Chapter 21: Invasion

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Ducky stood in the house foyer, gazing down at the body. Misery permeated his face. To Gibbs, he looked like he'd aged five years in just minutes. Not too surprising; I feel like I've aged ten.

"No need to do the usual onsite work," Ducky said in a barely-controlled voice. "Mr. Palmer—never mind, I think I'll do this myself." There were so few things Ducky could do for the dead, usually just establishing the cause of their demise. But attending to them with highest respect was one thing he could do. With only the slightest help in lifting from Jimmy, Ducky placed the body in a bag. He zipped the bag up, and stopped when the zipper reached Tim's neck. Zipping it the rest of the way would mean that it really had happened; that Tim was indeed dead. It was such a final action. It could not be undone.

But then he did zip it up the rest of the way, because it had to be done. He heard Gibbs' breath catch; heard Tony and Ziva's soft cries as they stood, arms around each other. Agents die, Ducky thought. I know that. But it's so hard when they're young, and when I know them so well.

Gibbs stepped away when his phone rang. "Yeah, Jen," he said softly. "Have you told Abby yet?"

"I was hoping to leave that to you, Jethro, if you don't mind. You're closer to her than I am."

Telling Abby about Tim is a job for a saint; not me. It's going to kill her. "I'd do it, Jen, except I think we're going to be here for hours yet. Ekerot and some of his women escaped and are holed up in the house, and they're armed. It's going to take awhile to flush them out, find the weapon, and so on."

"All right, Jethro. Be careful."

He shut his phone, his eyes misty.

"Jethro, we're ready to go," Ducky said heavily as Jimmy wheeled the gurney out the door. "See you back at NCIS."

Gibbs nodded, and turned to Ziva and Tony. "We've got work to do," he said, his voice a little gruffer than he would have liked. "I know it's hard, but it's got to be done."

Right now, the agents controlled the foyer. They had no idea where Ekerot and the women were in the house. Klara's team reported that no one had left the house by the back door. Gibbs called Joe and Balere to join the invasion team, leaving Mickey again in the back yard alone.

Jenny had relayed to him the little information Klara had given her before wearing out and falling asleep. Attic and third floor—sleeping rooms. Second floor—lab, some offices. First floor—dining area, kitchen, more offices. Basement—furnace and such, and the apartment in which she'd found Tim. She didn't know where Ekerot/Johansson's sleeping quarters were.

Klara had not been able to say how many people were in the house before dropping off, although she'd had mentioned that each and every one of them went by the name 'Nell'. Gibbs' estimate was that about 30 women—30 Nells—had come to the house's defense. There was no telling if there were more behind the scenes. They'd have to assume so.

He looked at his group. Glad now that he'd insisted HQ send up more agents to take away the five female prisoners they'd managed to keep, a three-floor-plus-attic-plus-basement house was still a formidable task for the ten agents and himself. He quickly paired his people off, hesitating only a second before making Tony and Ziva a pair. They seemed to be in sufficient control to do their work. Barely, but it would do. Nonetheless, he made himself the third member of their group.

Assignments were made swiftly, without regard to talents. Although he didn't admit it out loud, Gibbs selected the second floor for his team. He could see that Tony and Ziva were pleased with the decision. "I don't claim to have McGee's brains," said Tony, "but sometimes I can think like him, if I concentrate. Weird, huh? I might be able to sniff out where that weapon is."

Ziva shook her head. "Even McGee did not know where the weapon was. He implied he never saw it."

"I still think we have enough to go on, from what he said about it, so that we'll know it when we see it."

Gibbs stopped. He never expected true revelations from Tony, but of course the agent was bright. His mind had just been misapplied in his formative years. Every once in a while Tony showed brilliant insights. "Go on," Gibbs said.

"Well, boss, consider what McGee told us, and what he said back to Ekerot. It's a weapon needing a human operator. It has to be smuggled into somewhere, so it can't be too big or too heavy to be carried by one person. It's small enough to fit in a carry-on bag so as to go through X-ray machines at security checkpoints. It wouldn't need a stand or a cart in and of itself; that might raise suspicion. I don't want to think of how it connects to the human operator—yeuch!"

"Yeah. Good work, DiNozzo. Let's go see what's on floor 2." Gibbs didn't need to tell them his certainty that they'd find the lab guarded.

A team of two agents, assigned to the first floor, had sprinted ahead. Gibbs heard shouts, and an agent swiftly phoned him. "Got three of the ladies; they were hiding in a bedroom. Unarmed."

"Secure them and leave them," Gibbs directed. "You still have the rest of the floor to search. Don't get over-confident."

He and his team were climbing the stairs to the second floor, having let the other teams go to the upper floors ahead of them. Ekerot and his people had to know that NCIS was still in the house. Was Ekerot really hoping to overwhelm NCIS by their numbers? Or would NCIS be facing booby traps? Neither thought was pleasant. I've already lost one agent today…

That was the third time Gibbs had started that mental sentence, only to leave it dangling. As before, he diverted his mind, still finding the truth too painful to be faced just yet. All because Alvarez asked for McGee to come fix his computer, and Jenny said yes to his request. If she'd said 'no' and let him do his job as a special agent, he'd still be alive.

Damn Jenny. He had an inkling that his blame was a little unfair, but until Ekerot was in custody, he was only a boogeyman. And who could catch something they couldn't see?

Where else could Ekerot be but in his lab, guarding his precious weapon? If we rush the lab, will he use it on us?

Ziva seemed to read his thoughts. "McGee seemed to say that it required a certain human to activate the device," she whispered. "One who had that strange circuitry infection. So unless there is someone else in the house who we don't know about who is also infected, he cannot set it off."

"Too many variables," Gibbs said, shaking his head. "There may well be other infected people here. Or maybe McGee was wrong about it needing that…that type of human."

"Ekerot seemed determined to have McGee back," she answered.

"Yeah, he did, at that."

Rather than split up his team to cover the second floor, Gibbs kept them together. Most of the rooms on this end of the floor seemed dull and uninteresting; offices, likely. The lab was probably at the other end: no matter; they'd get to it in minutes. They could comb the place for details later. Right now, though, all they were after were Ekerot, the Nells, and the device.

At the very end of the hall was a locked door. Ziva quickly picked it open, and the light switch was where one would expect it to be. They weren't ready for what the room held. Tony swore, and tore his face away before he could be sick. Gibbs and Ziva both turned green as well, but continued to stare.

Along the back of this…different sort of a lab, ten or more bodies hung on hooks. Women, every one of them. All ages, all sizes, all hair colors. "That bastard!" Ziva cried, and reached out to touch one. Despite her shock and revulsion, she noticed no trace of injury on the body (which, like the others, was fully-clothed). It was as if the woman had simply…stopped existing. The body was well-preserved, the skin cool to the touch but still soft and giving, unlikely though that seemed.

Tony forced himself back to the scene, and stared at the gruesome sight, considering it. How in the world does a mass murder tie in with a terrorist device??

Gibbs' phone rang. "Yeah. Duck. Go," he said quietly.

"Fantastic news, Jethro!" Ducky crowed. "And I mean that in more than one sense. Abby was right! Was she ever right!!"

"What are you talking about??"

"Why, Timothy, of course! Abby had insisted that you couldn't have Timothy with you, and she was right! You didn't! This body is not his!"

"Duck, it's got to be him. I know him. And we were there when he died."

"No, you were there when someone acting as Timothy McGee died. Jethro, what I have on my autopsy table has pushed the boundaries of modern science that I know of into the realm of science fiction. Perhaps this is one of these military things that go on that the public doesn't know about."

"What is, Duck?"

"This body—it was evident from the first incisions young Palmer and I made minutes ago. It's not a human body, Jethro. It was never alive, in the sense that we know it."

"A robot?"

"I believe the science fiction term for it is android."

"That's incredible, Duck! I don't think science has advanced that far."

"Well, our initial tests show that what would be tissue in a human is only a polymer. You have your guesses, Jethro, but I have scientific analysis on my side. I'll—"

A loud scream was heard. "I've got to go, Jethro," Ducky said in a rush. "That's Abby. I thought we had the Autopsy doors locked, but she's gotten in, and I imagine Jenny hadn't told her yet—"

"Put her on the phone. I'll talk to her."

"She's fainted. Jimmy is seeing to her. Jethro, this means the real Timothy is out there somewhere. Find him, Jethro. With that much blood loss, if he's still alive, he may not have much time left."