AN: Thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter. The killer's speeding up, and so is the posting. Here's the next installment. Watch for more tomorrow.
Chapter 19
Abby tapped into the list of names McGee had compiled and started combing social media, looking for information about the men and any sign they might be this kind of hinky. She listened to Ducky talking to himself, or to their psycho killer, and let his gentle voice soften the edges she could feel on herself. Their team was the best and they had to find this guy, before he attacked anybody else.
She looked out to the main lab, but Jimmy and Dorney were sitting there alone. Abby wondered where Ziva and Gibbs had gone, but figured they must have headed to the bullpen. Abby forced herself to focus. The list of ex-boyfriends McGee and Tony had was down to just a handful of possibles, and Abby wasn't finding anything hinky about them. She frowned, trying to think of something they might have missed. As she did, her phone buzzed with a Facebook notification that she'd been invited to her 20th high school reunion. Yeah, because she wanted to go back there and have them stare at her. Facebook had made it way too easy to stay connected to people you only sort of knew.
Oh! Abby started tapping on her keyboard, looking for groups that Boone's victims would have been part of — high school classes, college classes, alumni groups. That was one way to find people who had been connected with them.
As she did, she started looking at the membership lists. The first one, for Boone's mother, had a retired Army colonel on the list, a name they hadn't seen before.
"That's it!"
"Abigail?" Ducky looked over. "Does this mean you've discovered something?"
"Maybe, Duckman. I think I found a way to find people who knew our victims and are serving in the Navy or Marines." She turned back to her computer and started hunting, making notes on anybody she found that was in the military, regardless of the branch. Once she had that list, she could start running them against the databases to find current postings and base access.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
Vance listened as they explained about Stan Burley.
"Good work," he said. "I'll go warn Burley myself." He checked his watch. "You people have been going almost 36 hours straight with just a few naps. Either get some caffeine for the team, or stand down for a while to sleep."
Tony stood. "Coffee run it is. Come on, McSleepy." He laughed as McGee sputtered, and headed for the elevator.
As they headed down, Tony looked over at McGee. "I hate to say Vance is right, but-"
"But we can't keep running on caffeine and fear? Yeah, I know, Tony." McGee rubbed at his eyes. "But how do we stop? This guy's speeding up, which means a nap could be the difference between catching him before he kills again and after."
Tony tried — and failed — to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn. "I know. I'm getting ready to steal one of Abby's Caf-Pows, though."
"Then you'll be the next one dead, and Abby will make sure she doesn't leave any evidence." McGee yawned. "I'm getting a Caf-Pow. Coffee's not going to cut it."
So when they got to the coffee shop, only the baristas were surprised by the order for six Caf-Pows, a latte and two black coffees.
"You're getting Vance a Caf-Pow?" Tony asked as McGee reeled off the order.
"Two for Abby." He headed for the pick-up counter and Tony had no choice but to follow. "If we need one, you know she needs two, just like Gibbs and his coffee. Vance has his own coffeepot, like Ducky has his teakettle."
"Point," Tony said. "So the latte's for Dorney?"
"He's got one more day of sleep than the rest of us, and he's nervous enough around Gibbs," McGee said. "Him having a heart attack isn't going to help us."
Before Tony could reply, one of the regular baristas set the trays of drinks on the counter.
"Did you guys just decide to set Abby up with an IV of this stuff?" Chris asked.
Tony laughed as McGee shuddered at the idea. "Do not even suggest that to her," the younger agent said. "Abby doesn't need any ideas about how to get more caffeinated."
"McSleepy's right, Chris. No, the Caf-Pows are for us. Gibbs is on the warpath, so sleep is something I only wish we could dream about." Tony took the tray and the extra drink. "Come on, McGee, let's get these back before everybody goes more insane than we are already."
They were only halfway back when Tony's phone started ringing on his belt.
"Damn, that's Brad. McGee, here." He pressed the single cup into McGee's hands and then grabbed the phone before it went to voicemail. "Yeah, Brad?"
As he listened, Tony started walking faster. "Just now?" He tried to remember all the details Brad reeled off. "We'll be right there." He hung up.
"Right where?" McGee asked.
"Bethesda. Dead corpsman. Worked in the morgue."
"That's somebody for Jimmy, then," McGee said. "Only Ducky and Abby left."
"That we know of," Tony said. "Come on, let's just head for the garage." He punched in Gibbs' number and briefed the team leader.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
When Gibbs couldn't find McGee and Tony in the bullpen, he headed upstairs, Ziva at his heels. Vance's secretary pointed them toward MTAC. Gibbs walked in to see Burley on the big screen; he almost head-slapped himself. Why hadn't he thought of Burley?
"Good to see you, Gibbs," Burley said as they walked in.
"Stan." Gibbs turned to Vance. "Director."
"Agent Burley is aware of the situation, and he's monitoring flight manifests from DC to Italy to cross-reference with the various lists McGee and Scuito have compiled," Vance said.
"Doesn't seem likely he'd come after me, Boss," Burley said. "I'm too far away — chasing me would be too easy to track and would take too long."
"Agreed, Agent Burley." Vance didn't give Gibbs a chance to respond. "This is just a precaution, until we catch this son of a bitch." He motioned to the tech operators to end the feed.
"Should'a thought of Burley," Gibbs said.
"Thank DiNozzo. McGee suggested they warn Dr. Pitt, which reminded DiNozzo about Burley." Vance headed out of MTAC.
"They at Bethesda?"
"Coffee," Vance replied. "Gibbs, a few more hours and your team's going to have to stand down for a few to sleep."
"Can't afford to," Gibbs said.
"Your team needs sleep at some point, even if it's in shifts," Vance said. "I'll bring in Balboa's team to help, run down leads while you all rest. Last thing we need is somebody getting hurt because you're all walking zombies."
Gibbs didn't say anything, but he didn't argue either. Leon was right. Then his phone rang.
"Yeah, Gibbs." He listened, then disconnected. "Dead corpsman at Bethesda." He counted in his head. "That's nine bodies."
"Ten actually," Vance said. "Maybe eleven."
"You been holding out on me, Leon?"
"A gunny was shot — long-range rifle — at Little Creek earlier today. Norfolk's handling the scene and the body should be halfway here by now. And I found a suspicious death of a sniper who served in Kuwait with you an hour or so ago." Vance led them to his office and handed Gibbs the folder. "Henna tattoo. I figure either our sniper had a boyfriend he couldn't talk about or this is our serial killer's work."
"Killer," Gibbs said, handing back the folder. "Couple guys in the unit probably weren't straight. We covered when a major tried to root them out, before DADT. Vince wasn't one of them."
"Eleven, then." Vance nodded. "Be careful out there, Gibbs."
Gibbs just left, Ziva following behind him. Once they were headed for the garage, she broke her uncharacteristic quiet.
"We are running out of time, yes?"
"Been out of time," he replied. "Bastard's six years ahead of us."
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
Number 15 is in my sights. I have been most careful with this one to track and to figure out the best way to pick him off. After this, just eight remain. After this, they will not wonder if I am coming for them because they will know. They will have seen one that they know die, and they will begin to wonder who will be next. And still, they do not suspect. They do not have any idea how I have hidden among them for so long. When he finally discovers me, it will be too late. They will all be gone, and he will be shattered at my hand. It will feel wonderful