Chapter 18
Gibbs momentarily stopped in the doorway. Caught off guard by Ballack's abrupt mention of his name, he paused and looked towards the detainee sitting at the table. His strategy which had worked so effectively in the past largely rendered ineffective, he watched as a look ranging between satisfaction and coolness spread over the Canadian's face.
"Your voice is very definite." Asher answered Gibbs' unasked question of how the rogue JTF2 operative had known who it was before seeing the team leader. "Even from behind a solid wall, it is distinguishable. Well, at least to me. But then again, not every person has augmented senses to detect such things, do they?"
"Not every person slaughters innocent people just because they can either." Gibbs strode to the empty side of the table and sat down, his eyes bearing into Asher's own. "But I suppose you never were one for following rules of war. Besides, that's beside the point. You're a federal agent killer; you're lucky to be sensing anything right now. If I were you, I'd stop with the dry remarks and start giving me some definitive answers."
"Such as?"
"When NCIS swept the warehouse at the shipyard, it was bare. There was no sign of any traces of Hellstorm or anything else that could be modified to create a weapon of mass destruction. We didn't recover anything from your little hideaway."
Asher replied gravelly, "Of course not."
"Where is it?" Gibbs asked pointedly. "We know the warehouse was being used a storage area for a large amount of material; it didn't just disappear on its own. Where have you moved it to?"
"Me?" Asher's voice was one of mock innocence. "I didn't move anything. How could I? I'm just a single individual." He narrowed his eyes. "Where did you let it get to? Hmm? Isn't that your job? To find out where these materials are getting to in this city and stop them from getting into the wrong hands? Or are you starting to feel the strain of the power you hold and command? Are you starting to feel the isolation closing in- that sense of authority you've held for so long slip away?"
"This isn't about me Ballack." Gibbs cut in. "This is about you and Natalya Russikov's planned acts of violence against innocent people. You may not be able to move all that weapons-grade material by yourself, but someone like her would have the resources for it. Where is she?"
"You know, I have to say I'm impressed." Asher responded as though Gibbs hadn't spoken at all. "Not many people would be willing to take a shot such as you did back in the warehouse, with your two top agents' lives in the balance. You puzzle me Gibbs. You carry around all this stress on top of you like a brick wall from all the pain of you past life and yet you try to act as though it doesn't affect you. That's the strange part; where's that rage hiding itself inside of you? You don't have to let it burn you from the inside out you know- you could have much more glorious, easier life."
"How?" Gibbs asked testily. "By being like you? You really must be as delusional as Ziva said you were. Not to mention the fact that you're a sociopath who sold out his country and his moral responsibility for your own twisted ideals."
Asher raised a finger. "See that's your problem. You let Ziva influence you as to what she thinks she sees in me. But she's completely wrong. At the heart of it, she and I are exactly the same; we want the same thing."
"Oh?" Gibbs didn't even bother to hide the unbelieving intonations in his voice.
"Oh yeah." Asher gave a small smile. "Order, stability, peace. A world without fear of violence, without war, without having to worry about the guy sitting next to you on the bus blowing himself up and taking you with it." He grinned slightly. "Think about how happy that would make Ziva's beloved countrymen and women. Well," he paused, "those that remain afterwards. See," he cut Gibbs off when the ex-sniper began to speak, "contrary to what you might think, I'm not a mindless sociopath who slaughters any old person who gets in my way. I'm basically doing the same job that you did in the Marines, that Ziva did in Mossad, and that I did back in JTF2; tracking down and taking out individuals who pose a threat to international peace. I just…" he looked to the right as if searching for the right words, "…use a more draconian way of doing it. A more necessary way."
"And I'm sure killing innocent civilians falls under the category of 'necessary' in your world."
"Those 'innocent civilians', as you refer to them, are just making the problem larger by the day, Agent Gibbs. Only a handful of people in this world truly matter. You should know that better than anybody."
"And how do you figure that?"
"You see, the position you've always been in- trying to balance killing with feeling," he shook his head, "it doesn't work. Being a hard-as-nails marine sniper or a team leader that investigates the powerful U.S. Navy requires sacrifice of one's person; otherwise you become an ineffective liability." He gestured with his hands, accentuating his points. "You have feelings, you became less effective, and, uh…" he shrugged and cocked his head, "look where that landed you. Losing your own family to a drug lord, your Secret Service agent to a turncoat and your director to an assassin." He raised his eyebrows, "Did any of those people truly matter to the world?"
Gibbs grabbed hold of Ballack by the collar and pulled him towards his face. His head pounding from the pressure that was boiling inside of him, he said, "They mattered to me!"
Asher merely stared at him with bemused indifference. Gibbs was just considering whether he should show the Canadian just how hard his stint as a marine had made him when Asher said flatly, "As much as I admire your passion and loyalty Agent Gibbs, I think you'll find your rough tactics just spend your energy and cause you to lose your focus. Pain and intimidation?" He shook his head. "They don't mean a goddamn thing to me; I lost my ability to feel threatened a long time ago. That's the result of being Hellstorm's perfect subject. That's the consequence of doing what is necessary."
Gibbs glared at Asher for a second further before roughly releasing him. Settling back in his chair, the team leader stared pointedly at the detainee. "What do you mean- 'lost your ability'?"
"Hellstorm can't be administered to just anyone." Ballack replied tersely. "In order for it to be effective, you have to be able to withstand just about anything. The reason?" He paused for a moment. "Effectively, the procedure kills you. Destroys what humanity you have in you, until all that's left is a cold indifference to anything that may have aroused emotion in you prior to administration. Once that happens, you may as well no longer be a human being. But you do have the means to choose what you want to be. CSIS wanted me to be their tool- their indestructible killer that they could command to do things they didn't have the guts to do themselves." He nodded his head slowly. "I saw what they really were; corrupt, paranoid, and internally weak. That's all they were. That's all any powerful organization is. You strip away the layers of hypocrisy and what you discover is that virtually the entire world thrives on corruption and exploitation. That is why I do what is necessary, regardless of the cost."
"And you think that because you had virtually no humanity to begin with," Gibbs said through his teeth, "that gives you the right to determine who deserves to live and who doesn't?"
"The world requires someone capable of making these decisions Gibbs." Asher's response was just as cold. He leaned forward in his chair and stared the team leader in the eye. "And I'll explain to you why. Selection of the strongest and fastest is a natural cycle on this earth. I am capable of making that judgment for humanity, and I will. You want to know why? Because I was selected for it." His tone was dead serious as he said his next words.
"Hellstorm selected me…"
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please review!!! Interesting flashback scene coming up in next chapter- may upload sooner if I get enough reviews so hit the green button!