Disclaimer: The below work of fanfiction is not being written for profit. NCIS is the intellectual property of Donald P Bellisario and Don McGill. Any other copyrighted material that may be mentioned here belongs to its owners. There, that takes care of all the legal mumbo-jumbo.
Authors Note: I know I said that I was done talking about Mike Franks' death. However, a new reader of my stories, Mapgirl, pointed out that one of my OC's was not at Mike's funeral. Sure enough, she was right. So this story is going to fix that faux pas. Actually two of my OC's missed the funeral, so they're both here. Without further ado, enjoy 'The Ride'.
Spoilers: Well duh, Pyramid, and maybe some stuff from earlier seasons, you know stuff!
Also there is reference to my story "Murder Most Foul."
Nuestra Senora del Perpetuo Cementeria de los Delores, three days after Mike Franks' funeral 1310hrs
NCIS Special Agent Brett Place wheeled his rented car through the entrance to the cemetery. Four days ago he'd been in the Malaysian jungle. The terrorist group Jemaah Islamiyah was planning a strike against some US Navy ships at Port Klang. The SAC of the NCIS Field Office in Singapore sent Brett to work with the Malaysian Army's Grup Gerak Khas (Special Service Group). If the SSG found the JI's camp Brett hopefully could find some intel on the strike. The trail led to the Thai border. After two weeks of searching with no result, Brett's unit came out of the jungle. That's when he got 'the word' of Mike Franks' death and funeral. Getting from Malaysia to Baja Mexico is not an easy process.
At least I'm finally here.
Brett could almost hear the whiskey and cigarette tinged growl.
Better late than never Junior.
As Brett neared the chapel, he spotted a worker. His Spanish was a little rusty but should serve. As he rolled up on the man Place lowered his window.
"Excuse me sir, but could you tell me where the grave of Michael Franks is located?"
The man nodded and smiled.
"Ah, 'El Viejo'. Yes, go down about seventy five meters and park. Walk to your right. The grave is at the top of the rise."
"Thank you."
The man nodded and Brett drove forward. He parked his rental and got out. His body protested by making various cracking and popping noises. He also felt like he could sleep for a week.
Not as young as I used to be.
As he walked towards Mike's grave, Brett started to sweat.
Wearing a black suit was not one of my better ideas.
Brett reached the gravesite and stopped. On the left was the stone of Mike's son, Liam. On the right at the foot of a new grave was a green temporary marker.
"I made it Mike. Sorry I'm late."
Brett stared down at the freshly turned earth and memories of Mike came flooding back. Meeting Mike and John Bailey when he first transferred in from the Bremerton Field Office. Hearing the aforementioned giggling as Brett tried to open the Super Glued main drawer of his desk the next day. During the protection detail that threw them together, having Mike wake him by hitting him in the head with a shotgun shell. Working the Gibbs-Bailey homicides.
Well, Mike worked it, I observed.
Mike was the one that got Brett the shot at Agent Afloat. It was the break that made his career.
Now here I am and I couldn't even make the burial.
During his transit time Brett used his secure laptop to go over the 'Port to Port Killer' case. It's how he found out about Mike's cancer. Mike confronted Cobb outside Gibbs' house and was that "second and a half slow".
At least he went out on his feet.
Brett wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there when he heard the slight noise to his rear. Later he would chalk his reaction up to tiredness and the fact he was only four days removed from a terrorist hunt in the jungle. The noise came again and Place pivoted to the left. His right hand swept the coattail away from the DeSantis Speed Scabbard. Two loose rounds in the outside pocket kept the coat away from the draw. The .45 Kimber Custom came out smoothly and was pointed center mass with the slack coming out of the trigger before Brett recognized the woman standing behind him. Her eyes were as big as fifty cent pieces. Brett lowered the .45.
"Jesus Christ! Damn Bailey, don't you know better than to walk up behind a guy like that?"
Former NIS forensic scientist Bailey Coopersmith gave Place a sickly looking smile.
"Sorry Brett. I was in the chapel and as I was coming out I saw you walking up here. Didn't want to disturb you."
Brett holstered the .45, his hand shaking slightly.
I really gotta take some time off sometime soon.
"Okay Coop, but damn, be more careful. Were you at the funeral?"
"No, I got here just after. I was in Warsaw at a conference and my office didn't forward the message from Gibbs in time for me to get back on time."
"Did you get to talk to Gibbs?"
"Yeah, I did. He looked okay, but I could tell he was hurting."
Bailey reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope handing it to Place.
"The Boss left one for me and one for you. I've read mine already."
Brett took the envelope; his name was on the outside in Mike's scrawl. Bailey gave Place a grin.
"In light of the last few minutes, I'll wait by your car."
She moved away leaving Place turning the envelope over in his hands. Taking a balisong knife from his pocket he slit open the envelope.
Brett:
If you're reading this, it means I've played my last hand. I'm sure by now you know what the case is all about. Gibbs was up against it and as always, I answered the bell. I'm also sure that by now you know I've got cancer in both my lungs. The prognosis is not good. I know I should have told both you and Bailey when I found out, but you know how I am. Other than Amaya and Hope, you, Bailey and Gibbs are the only family I've got. Sorry I kept it from you but I can't stand that whole 'keep your chin up, we're with you' shit. I went out on my own terms on my feet.
I need you to do a couple of things for me. Next time you're in DC, look Gibbs up and make sure he's doin' okay. You guys have a lot in common and I'll feel better knowin' that you've connected. Hell, the way you're goin' he's probably going to wind up working for you! Keep an eye on Bailey too. She'll say she's fine but be freakin' out on the inside. Again, I'll feel better knowing you're checkin' on her.
That's pretty much all I've got Junior, except I want you to know that between you and Gibbs a man couldn't ask for two finer men to be surrogate 'sons'. It's been a helluva ride and I have no regrets. I know we'll see each other again someday. In the meantime, don't be scared, just enjoy your ride.
Adios,
Mike
Brett felt tears stinging the backs of his eyes as he folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He looked down at the grave of his friend and mentor.
"See ya soon Mike."
Place walked to his car, where Bailey was leaning on the front fender.
"You okay Brett?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I could use a beer though. How 'bout you?"
Bailey smiled.
"A beer sounds very appropriate. Lead on."
Carlos' Cantina, twenty minutes later
Once at the bar, Brett got the beers while Bailey grabbed a table towards the back. As he walked to the table Brett regarded his former colleague.
Bailey was wearing Nikes, tan cargo pants and a pale blue polo shirt. The last time Brett saw her, Bailey's blond hair was shoulder length. Now it was past there and getting longer. Her hazel eyes were still warm, but slightly guarded. She still had the surfer girl tan and a very fine figure.
Bailey Coopersmith watched Brett walk towards her. The last time she'd seen him he'd been clean shaven. Now he had a mustache, his hair was shorter and swept back. Bailey blinked.
Damn, if you looked quick, wearing that black suit, he looks like the Boss did when we were working together.
Brett reached the table and placed a beer in front of Bailey. He cocked an eyebrow.
"What?"
Bailey smiled.
"Nothing. Just woolgathering."
Brett shook his head, taking a seat facing the door.
Women
They talked and laughed telling stories of Camp Pendleton days. After about an hour and several beers, Bailey saw Brett stiffen. Following his gaze, she saw a short stocky Mexican in a grey suit standing near the door scanning the room. The man finally saw them and started in their direction. Bailey raised an eyebrow.
"Friend of yours?"
Brett gave her a tight smile.
"Not exactly. His name's Quinto Rios. Used to be Stefano Reynosa's bodyguard and right hand man."
"Reynosa? As in…"
"Yup, the Reynosa Cartel."
Rios reached their table and stopped.
"Hello Agent Place. It's been a long time."
"Not long enough Quinto."
If Rios was offended he didn't show it. He noted to himself that the NCIS agent had his beer in his left hand. His right was resting on his thigh. Rios gave Brett a tight smile.
"I'm unarmed."
Place gave a tight smile of his own.
"Sure. What can I do for you Quinto?"
"I'm trying to find out some information. I saw you come in here with la rubia. Well actually I saw her first and then you."
Rios smiled affably at Bailey. She shuddered a little.
Brett scowled at Rios.
"What could I possibly tell you?"
"I have heard that 'El Viejo' is dead. Is it true?"
"Yes, it's true. They buried him three days ago."
"That is too bad. Where is he? I'd like to pay my respects."
Brett tried to keep his face impassive, but Rios saw.
"You are surprised? He was a warrior. Even as an adversary I can appreciate that. He deserves my respect."
Mollified, Brett gave the man directions. Quinto nodded.
"Gracias. Buena suerte Agent Place." Rios inclined his head at Bailey. "Senorita."
Rios moved off and Bailey let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"That was interesting."
Brett smiled.
"Yeah, Quinto has that effect on people."
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The next day the two friends parted at Ensenada Airport, vowing to meet again next year.
Well I know someday further down the road I'll come to the edge of the great Unknown There'll stand a black horse riderless And I'll wonder if I'm ready for this So I'll saddle him up and he'll switch his tail And I'll tip my hat and bid farewell And lift my song into the air That I learned at that dusty fair
"Sit tall in the saddle, Hold your head up high Keep your eyes fixed where the trail meets the sky and live like you ain't afraid to die
And don't be scared, just enjoy your ride"- "The Ride", Chris LeDoux, 2005
A/N: Okay, now I put Mike's death to bed. Hope you enjoyed it.