Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.

MISTAKEN IDENTITY

Chapter 26

"Boss? Is there a problem?" McGee asked as Gibbs closed his cell.

"Director wants us all upstairs," he replied, heading for the elevator.

"Even me?" Abby asked.

"Even you."

They stepped out of the elevator and Gibbs led them into the bullpen where Vance stood watching the large plasma.

"You wanted to see us, Director?"

"The evening news bulletin says Senator Tom Barnaby is expected to announce his intention to run for re-election at zero seven thirty tomorrow," Vance said. "According to an unnamed source from the Senator's office, he'll also be announcing his endorsement of Larry Caldwell for Congressman and a major breakthrough in the investigation into a weapons substitution racket that resulted in the deaths of three highly decorated Marines and three federal agents."

"How can he make such an announcement in an ongoing investigation?" Ziva asked.

"Far as he and Caldwell are concerned, DiNozzo's guilty – case closed," Gibbs growled.

"Looks like he plans to announce it to the world tomorrow," Vance said. "I've got our legal people looking at obtaining an injunction to prohibit Barnaby from naming DiNozzo or this agency. Trouble is, the man's got so much pull on the hill I don't know that we'll have too much luck. Speaking of luck, you get anything from the last lot of evidence?"

"Enough to prove that Lopez killed Torres but nothing to clear DiNozzo of shooting the FBI agents," Gibbs replied. "We'll work through the night, start from scratch, go over every report, statement, crime scene photo…"

"That's a hell of a lot of work to get done before zero eight hundred tomorrow."

"You got any other ideas, Director, I'm listening!" Gibbs said with a large dose of frustration in his tone.

The soft ding of the elevator sounded in the background and Vance looked over Gibbs' shoulder, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Matter of fact, I do," he said, pointing with his chin toward the elevator and the stairwell as Balboa, Mailley and Jackson led their teams into the operations room.

"What's going on, Leon?" Gibbs asked.

"If we're gonna clear DiNozzo before tomorrow, I figured you could use some fresh eyes and a little help," Vance said. "I asked for a few volunteers from the off duty teams and got the whole damn lot. Seems there's a whole lot of people watching DiNozzo's back."

"Tony's watched theirs often enough," Gibbs replied.

"Get out of here. Tell DiNozzo no-one's going home till we find something, then you and your team get some rest - we've got this covered."

Needing no time to consider the request, Gibbs, McGee and Ziva hurried to their desks, retrieving their weapons and their backpacks and exchanging their thanks with several of their colleagues. As the off duty teams separated to allow them access to the elevators, Gibbs caught sight of Abby. Standing perfectly still with her arms wrapped around her midsection in a self-hug, her eyes pooled with tears as she watched them prepare to leave.

"Abs?"

"Give Tony a hug for me, Gibbs," she said, her voice wobbling as she struggled to maintain her composure. "Tell him we won't stop working until we bring him home."

"Miss Scuito? You're not going to the hospital?" Vance asked.

"No, Sir. There's no-one else here qualified to review all my reports," she said, trying for a smile but failing in the attempt. "It's okay, Gibbs… really…just tell Tony I love him."

The elevator sounded again, this time depositing Fornell, FBI Forensic Specialist, Robert Hennessy and an unknown woman into the operations room.

"Looks like the cavalry has arrived, Miss Scuito," Vance said. "You'll be going with Gibbs after all."

"Norman!" Abby squealed, wrapping her FBI counterpart in a bone-crushing hug.

Hennessy looked at Fornell and asked. "She does know that's not my name, doesn't she?"

Fornell shrugged. "With Abby, sometimes it's hard to tell."

Hennessy introduced the woman to Abby with a hint of pride in his voice. "This is my fiancé, Professor Anna Reilly. Anna teaches a Masters course in Forensic Science at UPenn and acts as a consultant for the FBI. Director Timmins explained the situation and we're more than happy to help review your reports."

Professor Reilly extended her hand in greeting and received a bone-crushing hug of her own.

"I'll even introduce Anna to Mister Mass Spec and the kiddies," Hennessy said.

"That's Major Mass Spec and the babies," Abby corrected then turned to look at Vance, anxiously catching her lower lip between her teeth. "Director?"

"It's fine," Vance said. "They'll be reviewing forensic and ballistic reports, so there'll be no breach of the chain of evidence and they'll sign the confidentiality paperwork."

"I can go?"

"You can go?"

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! This is, like, totally awesome – thanks you guys! Gibbs, wait for me, okay? I'm coming with you! I have to get my coat and my bag and Bert…I have to get Bert," she said, running for the elevator in her precariously high stiletto boots. As the elevator doors began to close she placed her hand between them to halt their progress and called. "I told you Gibbs, I told you that under all that FBI-ness, Fornell kinda likes me."

"She's a little weird but she's lovable - what's not to like," Fornell told Gibbs as the elevator doors closed on a beaming Abby.

"Never took you for a lab-monkey, Tobias," Gibbs said.

"Wouldn't know a gas chronometer from an infrared micro spectroscopy unit," Fornell deadpanned.

"Appreciate you helping out," Vance told Fornell.

"Thank Timmins, this was his idea. Caldwell's gone over his head so many times he's left footprints on his scalp," Fornell quipped. "If we find something to prove DiNozzo's innocent and discredit Caldwell in the meantime, it'll be time well spent. Just don't tell DiNozzo, it'll ruin our relationship."

"Won't hear it from me," Gibbs replied.

"My lips are sealed," Vance added.

"There's something else," Fornell said. "Caldwell has submitted his resignation from the FBI effective as of 8:00am tomorrow."

"Just after Senator Barnaby endorses his candidacy," Vance stated.

"He plans to put DiNozzo on the prisoner transport vehicle live on television in the hope it wins him enough votes to secure the election."

"The hell he will," Gibbs growled.

"Then we'd better get to work," Vance said turning to Gibbs. "Get outta here, we'll call if we get anything."

Lead agent and director exchanged a perfunctory nod but as their eyes met, grateful thanks were offered and accepted.

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The closer Gibbs got to Bethesda, the more his gut twisted with self-recrimination. There was no getting around it, he would have to face Tony and tell him that, while he would not be transferred to USP Lee, unless his colleagues at NCIS had a major breakthrough tonight, the ex-detective would be sent to the Central Detention Facility in DC at zero eight hundred. The former Marine had read and re-read every report countless times – although he fervently hoped for a breakthrough, realistically, he knew it would not be forthcoming.

Ducky and Palmer were seated in the waiting area outside Tony's hospital room as Gibbs led his team and Abby to join them. As they approached, the elderly ME climbed wearily to his feet, a slew of emotions warring for control of his kindly features.

"Jethro, thank heavens you're here!" he said.

"Tony okay?"

"He is far from okay," the older man stated, not bothering to hide his frustration. "He is quite possibly the most obstinate, pig-headed, bloody-minded young man I have ever met – with the notable exception of you, of course."

"You just finding that out, Duck?" Gibbs replied, placing a calming hand on the doctor's tense shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Anthony is still refusing any pain relief. He is desperately trying to force himself to remember what happened when the FBI agents were shot."

"He's had no pain killers? It's been hours!"

"Nothing since before you saw him this morning."

"Dammit," Gibbs muttered softly.

"He is convinced that he will be sent to prison tomorrow. Of course, I assured him that you would never allow it."

The former Marine exhaled loudly, carding his fingers through his short silver hair.

"Oh my," Ducky said. "You don't mean that…."

"Zero eight hundred tomorrow," Gibbs said, hating the sound of resignation in his voice.

"Oh dear…perhaps you'd like me to be with you when you tell him?" Ducky asked.

"Give me a few minutes with him first," Gibbs replied, taking a deep breath and flexing his jaw to relax.

The team took their places with Palmer and Ducky as Gibbs opened the door to Tony's room. The lights were dimmed considerably to ease the light sensitivity the younger man was still suffering and, initially, Gibbs could barely make out the form of his agent, propped up in the bed.

Tony's breathing was ragged and noisy as he tried to gasp through the pain that caused fine tremors to run through his body. His skin and hair were damp with sweat and his eyes were closed and hollowed from pain and fatigue. His long fingers were still protectively clasping the morphine pump to prevent its use.

Hearing the click of the closing door, Tony's eyes opened and he spoke in a raspy voice.

"Boss?"

Despite his best efforts to maintain a dispassionate guise, his agent knew him too well - he saw through his façade in an instant and knew the news was bad.

Tony's eyes filled with anguish and the raw grief on his face was difficult for Gibbs to watch. The younger man forced himself to breathe and took a few slow wavering breaths before resolutely meeting the lead agent's gaze.

"Just say it, Boss…I shot those agents," he stated, his voice thick with barely contained emotion.

"What? Jesus, is that what you think? Listen to me…you did not shoot those agents!" Gibbs said emphatically.

"You can't prove it though, can you?"

"Don't have to…I know it."

"So…USP Lee tomorrow?" The rhythm of Tony's speech was completely lifeless.

"Central Detention Facility, Infirmary Wing."

His anxious green eyes filled with such desperate, hopelessness that the former Marine needed a minute to keep his own resolve in check.

"Tony, this…does not…end here!" Gibbs said, explaining that their colleagues were working around the clock to uncover proof of his innocence.

"They won't find it," he said in a voice that was barely audible. "Admit it, Boss, if you thought there was something to find, you'd be there, not here."

"I'm exactly where I should be."

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They sat in total silence, the need of support was not voiced nor was it verbally answered, and yet the feeling was exchanged and brought a modicum of comfort to them both. Gibbs watched helplessly as Tony was trapped in his own private purgatory, afraid the memories would never return; yet terrified that they would.

The door opened a crack and Ducky poked his head around the corner.

"May I join you, Anthony?" he asked gently.

Noting the lack of response from the younger man, Gibbs replied. "Come on in, Duck."

The ME entered the darkened room and positioned himself by Tony's bedside. He poured a glass of water from the nearby pitcher and brought a straw to Tony's parched lips allowing the younger man to slake his thirst.

He ran a trained eye over the younger man's sweaty face and the tremors running through his body and clicked his tongue loudly against his teeth in disapproval.

"Anthony, you cannot go on like this," Ducky said in a firm but gentle tone. "Pain is the body's way of communicating that it needs attention. You have relief at your fingertips…please, use the morphine pump."

"I have to remember," Tony replied with a toneless quality in a voice that rarely, if ever, lacked emotion. "One way or the other, I have to know if I shot those agents."

"Subjecting yourself to such pain is not going to bring those memories back!" Ducky told him. "Perhaps if you rest!"

"I'm going to jail for shooting two agents, Ducky," he hissed through tightly clenched teeth. "Tell me how I'm supposed to rest knowing that?"

The ME exchanged an exasperated look with the lead agent before trying a change of tack.

"There is a small group of very concerned people outside who would dearly love to see you."

"No!"

"Anthony?"

"I don't want to see them, Ducky, please!"

"They are your friends, my boy, they believe in your innocence."

"That's why I can't see them," Tony replied. "What if I'm guilty?"

"They know you, Anthony…they will never believe that you shot those agents and nor will I."

Tony huffed a contemptuous laugh.

"They would never believe I would leave McGee alone to be killed," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper,"…but I did."

"Anthony, please, you must…."

"No, Ducky!" Tony said loudly, increasing the agonising pain in his head and hissing through clenched teeth as the movement caused an excruciating spasm in his shoulder.

"Enough!" Gibbs said, unable to watch Tony struggle against the pain any longer. He walked to the side of the bed and held his hand palm up. "Give me the pump."

He saw the mutinous look in his agent's red-rimmed eyes and for a moment, he thought Tony was going to defy him. Too exhausted and in too much pain to continue the fight, he took a deep breath and let it out in a long, controlled exhale as he placed the morphine pump in Gibbs' hand. The older man immediately pressed the button, releasing a measured dose of long-overdue pain relief.

"Get some rest," he said, quietly cursing as the last glimmer of hope faded from Tony's eyes and he turned his cheek into the pillow.

"I can't face them, Boss," he whispered, already feeling the morphine overpower his weakened body. "Especially McGee."

Gibbs nodded his understanding as Tony closed his eyes and allowed the medication to lure him into a deep sleep.

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After receiving Vance's call to take a quick break and join them in the operations room, Fornell led Professor Reilly and her fiancé, FBI Forensic Specialist, Robert Hennessy into the bullpen. They gravitated to an empty desk where multiple trays of sandwiches and hot beverages had just been placed.

"How's it coming?" Vance asked, swiping half a sandwich and a cup of coffee.

"Nothing yet," Fornell said. "Ms Scuito may be a little…eccentric…but according to Hennessy and Professor Reilly, she's an exceptional forensic specialist - every 'T' is crossed and every 'I' dotted. What about you?"

"There's a long way to go yet but so far we've got a whole lot of circumstantial evidence showing means, cause and know how and nothing that tells us DiNozzo didn't do it."

"You really think we're gonna find anything?" Fornell asked.

Vance shook his head. " If there was something in these reports that would clear DiNozzo, Gibbs would have been all over it."

"Then why all this? Why bring in the extra teams?" Fornell said reaching for a sandwich.

"DiNozzo's one of ours. Besides, I gave him this assignment knowing he wasn't fully fit – he could have turned it down, left it for someone else, but he didn't. I owe it to him to leave no stone unturned. Have to admit, you being here surprises me - you and DiNozzo have quite a chequered past."

"Don't get me wrong, I think DiNozzo is a world class pain in the ass! But he wouldn't have lasted a week with Gibbs if he weren't a good agent and a better man. He sure as hell doesn't deserve this."

"Well, I better get back to it," Vance said. "Let me know if you need anything."

Fornell took a long draught from his coffee as he looked around at the frenetic activity in the operations room and shook his head.

DiNozzo may be a world class pain in the ass but along the way he'd earned the respect of every one of these agents and, in particular, one Leroy Jethro Gibbs… and that was good enough for him.

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In the waiting area outside Tony's room, Palmer sat with Abby, Ziva and McGee talking quietly and anxiously hoping to offer their support and encouragement to their injured senior field agent. Although the presence of his friends and the two Marines was comforting, Jimmy's gaze constantly darted across the room to the two FBI agents. He paled noticeably as they eyed him predatorily, cracking their knuckles and menacingly dragging their index fingers across their throats when the others weren't watching. He welcomed the distraction when his mentor exited Tony's room.

"Ducky?" Abby said tremulously as the ME returned to the waiting area. "Is Tony okay, can we see him now?"

"He's sleeping, my dear," Ducky replied, noting Abby's obvious disappointment. "He was so exhausted, I expect that one dose from the morphine pump should give him several hours relief."

"We won't wake him, Ducky. We just need to see him in case…" she took a deep breath and tried to force her words around the large lump in her throat. "Before he…"

Ziva moved in closer to her friend and put voice to the words that Abby could not. "Before they take Tony to the detention facility."

Ducky felt torn between Tony's explicit wish not to see his friends and the four pair of eyes all silently pleading to be allowed to see him. His resolve wavered and finally crumbled completely, unable to deny them.

"Just for a moment," he instructed. "And please do not wake him up…we had the dickens of a time getting him to agree to sleep!"

Gibbs rose from the chair that had been placed next to the bed and moved back against the wall to allow Abby and Ziva access.

Capturing her quivering lower lip between her teeth, Abby felt her control falter and tears spring to her eyes as she approached her sleeping friend. She gently traced his jaw line with her slightly trembling fingers and leaned forward to place a delicate kiss on his brow. She held her breath as Tony stirred slightly before settling back into sleep.

Standing on the other side of the bed, Ziva placed her hand on Tony's forearm.

"Anachno nachzir otcha habaita, Tony, al teAbed tikva," she whispered in Hebrew and then repeated in English. "We will bring you home, Tony, do not lose hope."

Palmer and McGee stood by the door, sending their own silent messages of support to their injured friend.

When Tony stirred restlessly again, Ducky gently herded his young colleagues from the room and back into the waiting area. He watched as McGee wrapped a comforting arm around Abby's shoulders.

"There's nothing more you can do for Anthony tonight," he said kindly. "Go home, all of you, get some rest."

"Come on, Abs, I'll drive you home," McGee said, guiding the subdued Goth toward the exit.

"We shall return in the morning," Ziva said. "Good night, Ducky."

"Wait!" Jimmy called, somewhat louder than he had intended.

"Mr Palmer, please keep your voice down, this is a hospital after all," Ducky chided.

"Ah…of course, sorry Doctor…I was…I was just going to offer you a lift home," Jimmy said, watching the FBI agents from the corner of his eye.

"That's very nice of you, Mr Palmer, but it's really unnecessary," Ducky replied, making his way toward the exit. "My Morgan awaits me in the staff parking lot. Good night!"

"Good night, Doctor," Jimmy muttered, gulping loudly as the FBI agents laughed loudly at a joke he suspected was at his expense.

"Good night, Jimmy." He started as Ziva's voice sounded from behind him as she returned from the restroom.

"Ziva! I thought you'd gone!"

"I was just washing my hands," she replied. "I am leaving now."

"No!" Jimmy replied, stopping the Israeli in her tracks. "Er…what I mean is…I would be happy to drive you home."

"Thank you, Jimmy, but I have my own car."

"Well…er…then I insist on walking you to your car," Jimmy said, still casting furtive looks at the FBI agents. "We can't have you walking alone at night. Anything could happen to me, you...I mean anything could happen to you!"

"I am quite certain I can take care of myself," Ziva smiled.

"Of course you can but I would never forgive myself if something terrible happened to me, you…if something happened to you! I don't know why I keep doing that!" Jimmy laughed nervously.

Ziva watched the young ME for a moment, noting that he seemed more jumpy than usual.

"That is very chivalrous of you, Jimmy, I accept," Ziva said extending her elbow toward him.

Hastily linking his arm with hers, Jimmy sighed in relief as they walked toward the exit. He was unable to resist a smug smile over his shoulder at the FBI agents, almost willing them to try something while he had his own personal assassin on his arm.

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In a manoeuvre long-since perfected, Gibbs dozed lightly in a chair leaning precariously on two legs against the wall. Years of stealing a precious hour of sleep on long stakeouts and arduous cases, plus too many hours spent sitting beside a hospital bed, had conditioned Gibbs to the sounds of his agent's breathing and his various levels of sleep.

Several times during the night and early morning he'd helplessly watched the restless movement of long legs beneath the light blankets and eyes that moved rapidly behind heavy lids. He'd listened as Tony's breathing became erratic and harsh and he knew that, even in sleep, the younger man was tortured by thoughts of what may have happened and the fear of what lay ahead. Moments later, as his breathing slowed into a slow and steady rhythm, Gibbs knew that fleeting fear and panic had been out-wrestled by the infamous DiNozzo tenacity and resolve.

The muscles along his jaw line contracted as the former Marine continued to bite down on his anger and frustration. Gibbs was a man of action. For all his faults and idiosyncrasies he was fiercely protective of those close to him and would lay down his life for any of them. DiNozzo was his second, his senior field agent. A man who could infuriate him with an ill-considered wise-crack and then astound him with a flash of case-breaking brilliance – but there was no-one Gibbs would rather have watching his six. It tore at his very being that in Tony's darkest hour all he could do, was stay by his side and offer his steadfast support.

Tony forced himself to take slow and even breaths, knowing that the former Marine would be alert to any signs of his distress or panic. He forced his mind to replay the last thing he remembered before waking up in the hospital. Again and again he relived the horror of seeing Ray Sanchez engulfed in a deadly explosion but he could remember no more than that.

He hated the murkiness in his brain, like all the answers were there, hiding in a shadow beyond his sight. Each time he tried to reach a little further but every time he tried to catch some memory lingering just out of reach, it disappeared. His gut clenched painfully as he realised that, this time, there would be no eleventh hour reprieve for him. He knew that if the smallest of clues or leads existed, his team leader would be moving heaven and earth to prove his innocence.

For the first time since he and Gibbs met, the former Marine's presence by his side brought a comforting support and a terrifying reality – and that reality told him he was going to jail.

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Vance slammed the handset of the phone back into its cradle and fought to maintain a professional detachment in front of his men.

"Bad news?" Fornell asked as he hustled into the bullpen.

"Our application for an injunction to stop Barnaby and Caldwell from naming DiNozzo and NCIS has been denied. They can say whatever they damn well please and there's not a thing we can do to stop them. You got something?"

Fornell shook his head. "Thought it might be time to visit the sick. How do you feel about a ride to the hospital, Director?"

"Lead on," the director replied, following Fornell to the elevator.

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Two breakfast trays remained untouched on the rollaway table, the agents unable to force themselves to eat. Barely a word had been spoken, there didn't seem to be a need for words, only an understanding silence.

Doctor Fenner had been by to examine Tony and ensure he was physically able to make the thirty-five minute road trip to the Central Detention Facility. He had wanted to give Tony a mild sedative – just enough to relieve the anxiety and counteract any painful jostling he was likely to encounter in the prisoner transfer vehicle. Tony had refused. If he was going to jail, he was walking on his own two feet and with his faculties intact. Despite the circumstances, Gibbs couldn't help the swelling of pride in his chest.

The ex-detective managed a quick shower and then sat vacantly staring into space as a nurse changed the dressings on his shoulder and readied the figure eight shoulder brace. Getting into the brace required considerable movement of his arm, drawing several harsh grunts of pain and leaving him gasping for breath when it was finally in position.

Gibbs was mildly surprised when his agent reluctantly acquiesced and allowed him to assist with the small buttons on his shirt. Embarrassment coloured the younger man's face and he refused to make eye contact as Gibbs adjusted the sling then clipped him affectionately under the chin.

The lead agent checked his watch and found they were early. Desperate to break the oppressive silence, he picked up the remote and switched on the television, hoping to distract Tony with the sports report. They exchanged an amused look as Diane Fontaine's image appeared on the screen.

They had first met the TV journalist seven years ago when the body of a Navy Commander was washed up on a beach and he was wrongly accused of drug running. The irony was not lost on either of them.

"Diane's doing okay…on scene reporter to anchorwoman," Gibbs remarked

"You know, Boss," Tony said quietly. "You took her cell number from me and you never did give it back."

Gibbs smiled at his agent's attempt to lighten the mood. "Did you a favour, she wasn't your type."

"She's a smoking hot woman too busy with a career to want commitment. Back then that was my only type!"

The conversation was interrupted as the WXEK News anchorwoman spoke.

"We're going to cross live to the Bethesda Naval Hospital where Senator Tom Barnaby is about to announce his bid for re-election."

The image changed to the entrance of the hospital and they watched as Senator Barnaby strode confidently to stand on a small temporary dais.

"Good morning, I'd like make a brief statement after which I will take a few questions," the Senator said, obviously comfortable with the throng of print and television journalists jockeying for the optimum position with their cameras and microphones.

"It is with an overwhelming sense of honour and pride that I announce my intention to stand for re-election of my Senate position. The official launch of my campaign will take place this evening in my state capital. In addition, it is my great pleasure to announce my wholehearted endorsement of Mr Larry Caldwell in his bid to represent our state in the US Congress."

"As a senior agent in the FBI, Larry Caldwell's impeccable record is a shining example to all law enforcement agencies. He has fought against organised crime and injustice and is looking to continue that fight and any other issue that threatens the freedom, safety and welfare of our state's citizens. Larry Caldwell is a strong leader with vision, intellect and the commitment to improve the quality of life for all of his constituents. His ethics, convictions and strong voice are needed in our Nation's capital. I am certain that our partnership will serve us well in these challenging times. That is why I am proud to stand with Larry Caldwell and support his election to the U.S. Congress."

Not bothering to hide the depth of his anger and frustration, Gibbs snatched up the remote, ready to switch off the TV.

"No!" Tony said. "Leave it on. May as well hear what he's got to say."

As the small crowd politely clapped, Caldwell mounted the dais, shaking the Senator's hand.

"I am thrilled to have received the endorsement of Senator Tom Barnaby and I look forward to forging a partnership that will serve our constituents well. I will be travelling with the Senator to my home state this evening for the first of the official engagements."

"I'm sure you must be wondering why we have chosen to make these announcements at a Naval hospital. Recently, three highly decorated US Marines were tragically killed when faulty weapons, smuggled illegally into this country, malfunctioned and exploded."

In my capacity as Senior FBI Agent, I headed a task force charged with locating and apprehending the people running this weapons smuggling organization who were responsible for these deaths. The FBI conducted a relentless and exhaustive investigation that culminated in the seizure of millions of dollars of weapons and explosives and the neutralization of the gun-running operation. During the course of our investigation, three federal agents were shot, two lost their lives and one is still in a critical condition."

"The man responsible for shooting two FBI agents in the back, is himself, a federal agent and is currently receiving treatment in this facility. In my last official act as an FBI agent, I will be taking this man into custody and escorting him to the Central Detention Facility where he will await trial."

The murmurs from the small crowd grew into a cacophony of shouted questions as the journalists competed for Caldwell's attention.

"Agent Caldwell, can you tell us the name of the man you have arrested for these shootings?" a female journalist asked.

"Yes, I can. The man we believe responsible for these shootings is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

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A/N:- To receive your very kind PM's and reviews and to know that people are enjoying my stories is extremely gratifying and something that I never take for granted. Recently I was very pleased to learn that two of my stories were nominated in the Case File section of the LJ NCIS Awards 2010.

I was thrilled and completely overwhelmed to learn that, in a dead heat, BOTH of my stories won the Best Case File award. Many, many thanks to all who nominated and voted for Means to an End and Withdrawal. I am absolutely delighted in the result and the wonderful compliment.

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and that you'll join me for the final chapter of Mistaken Identity, L