"There is nothing lucky about waking up during your own autopsy, probie," Tony exclaims in the squad room after Ducky's 'guest' work up before he started the autopsy.
"Least you know you're not dead," McGee states.
"Ducky's the one who's lucky."
"The not dead victim is the lucky one… if I was down there, I would have shot him. I learnt from Ari. If they come back to life, shot them, their up to know good," I comment as Ziva walks into the squad room. Late.
"Why is Ducky lucky?" Ziva asks us, letting us know that's what she heard, and she heard the comment about Ari by the look she gave me but I shrug without a care. She is wearing Roy's orange hat over her hair.
"Well, well. Look who's finally here," Tony taunts Ziva.
"Oh, like you've never been late, left early or gone mysteriously missing."
"Oh no, that's my point exactly tardiness is my middle name. in fact, it's expected of me. You, on the other hand, have become the poster girl for punctuality," Tony informs her making Ziva laugh at her.
"Late night?" I ask her.
"Early morning. Run. New route. Took longer than I expected. Will run faster tomorrow. Now why is Ducky lucky?" Ziva demands of us as she places her stuff at her desk.
"We found a dead man walking," Tony half explains.
"I've had enough of dead men walking."
"Join the club. First walking dead person was Ari, when he came into autopsy in a body bag… left by shotting, Gerald, Jethro and me… then there was Jane Doe who dug herself out of her who grave," I remember.
"No, this one was really dead. Ducky was about to start the autopsy and he came back to life… like Lazarus," McGee informs us.
"No, like Liam. Liam O'Neill. Corporal," Tony corrects McGee as he places the corporal's photo on the plasma above my desk.
"Who was communication specialist attached to Marin supply division/combat support hospital in Baghdad," McGee continues to update Ziva.
"On a fifteen day leave for his unit in Iraq. Third tour," I inform Ziva.
"Hardcore Marine," Ziva comments.
"Due to fly back to Baghdad day after tomorrow," Tony informs her.
"How does a man who is not dead, end up on Ducky's autopsy table?"
"Ari did… and lived three more years, until he crossed the line. The last line anyway," I remind her.
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"It was the Metro police. They reported a dead man, not an unconscious one. You know, there's an old paramedic saying, 'they're not dead until they're warm and dead.' Can't really blame them. Face down in a snow drift, core temperature twenty degrees below normal. No discernible heartbeat. Could have been there for hours. It's not an unreasonable conclusion under the circumstances," Ducky informs Gibbs as I walk into autopsy.
"CPR?" Gibbs asks him as he accepts the coffee I am offering him, before I had Ducky the tea I brought him.
"By their estimation, he was long dead. CPR is for the recent dead. Never crossed their minds. You know, the physiology is very interesting. Faced with imminent death, the brain begins to switch off the lights to preserve the last flicker of life and hope."
"Prognosis?" I ask him.
"Well, children have been known to make a full recovery after being pulled from freezing rivers, ooh, two hours after they've apparently drowned. Adults are rarely so lucky. He'll be on a ventilator, and the hospital will constantly check his condition."
"Got nothing for us here, Duck," Gibbs asks him.
"Well, on the contrary. He had a lump on his left temporal area, and bruising on the back and side of his neck. He didn't fall into that snow drift. No, he was struck on the side of the head. His face was pushed into the snow, violently held by his neck and the back of the head. Probably until he stopped thrashing. How's that for starters?"
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"Not much to see," McGee comments as we search the van that brought the not body in.
"I wouldn't say that," Ziva comments as Tony talks on his phone to the latest girlfriend, still the doctor that Shepard ordered him to date.
"He sure calls her a lot."
"Oh, she calls him more often than he calls her."
"Meaning?"
"Commitment issues. She is. He's not."
"What time? Okay. Are you going to give me a clue about this mystery date? Jeanne, gym shoes is not a clue. Naked is a clue. You want me naked? All right, you don't want to see me naked. All right. I'll bring you gym shoes. 'bye," Tony rambles to the girl before hanging up on her.
"Glad you could join us," Ziva comments as he walks over to us.
"Well, there's not much to see," Tony comments.
"Appreciate it," Gibbs says into his phone before turning to us to informs us, "Corporal O'Neill was wearing a light shirt, and no jacket. What's that tell you, McGee?"
"Jacket was stolen?" Tony guess.
"Or he left close by," Ziva offers.
"OR someplace warm," I state.
"There's no houses nearby. Service road's close, though," McGee reminds us.
"Car!" Tony offers to McGee.
"Silver ninety-seven mustang. License plate delta Zulu on five lima three seven…"
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We search the parking lot near where the body was found until we find the victim's car with the engine still on.
"Bingo on the jacket. The motive wasn't robbery. Sequentially numbered bills. Freshly minted. Five hundred dollars," McGee exclaims as he pulls the money out of the car.
"Heater is set high, ignition is on. Must have sat her with the engine running," Ziva exclaims as she searches the car.
"Guess he left in a hurry," Tony comments.
"Well, he didn't leave fast enough," Gibbs states.
"Would have been fast in the car then on foot," I state.
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"Good afternoon, Gibbs, Alice," Abby greets us without looking at us as we walk into the lab.
"Well, good morning, Abs. how did you know it was us?" Gibbs asks her in confusion, she didn't have to look.
"Because I found something. And whenever I find something, you always know. Then you come see me," Abby informs us as we walk over in front of her.
"We do?" I ask her.
"Well, yeah. If I didn't then you wouldn't be here. Have you been listening?"
"You found what, Abs?" Gibbs asks her.
"This. In his left trouser pocket. It's organic," Abby explains as she holds up a green powder substance.
"Illegal?" I ask her.
"We could smoke it and find out."
"And people say I'm the bad influence," I exclaim when Abby says that as Gibbs give her his soft glare that is only for her and me… used to be Kate too.
"Kidding. I'm going to let the mass spec smoke that. But I also found this, a receipt from a restaurant in Baghdad."
"Corporal's on his third tour, Abs," Gibbs reminds her.
But he's been on leave for three weeks. So what was he doing Baghdad three days ago? See the date? I think he had a falafel…"
"That's a good catch, Abby," I exclaim in surprise. That is a great question.
"Do you think it's ESP? I mean, that you always know when I find something? And if it is ESP, are you reading my mind or am I sending you some sort of weird brain thoughts out of my head and into yours? Come back, Gibbs. Come back, Gibbs," Abby calls after us as we walk off.
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"Boss, I got it. I cross-checked it with ICE. O'Neill left the country eight days ago using his own passport. He was traveling as a private citizen. Arrived back in the country two days ago," McGee reports back in the squad room.
"Record of travel?" Gibbs asks him.
"Direct to Frankfurt, then on to Baghdad. Came back the same way."
"Wouldn't call Baghdad one of your top ten tourist destinations," Tony states.
"Especially if you've just come from there, and you're going back."
"And people shooting at you," Ziva reminds them.
"Or trying to blow you up," Tony adds.
"Airline?" I ask them because their off topic.
"He didn't fly commercial. Flew there and back with an air freight company called Fast Flight. Operates out of the warehouse near Dulles Airport," McGee informs us.
"Address. Ziva?" Gibbs demands of her.
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"You do that!" Taylor, a worker at the warehouse, says into he phone before turning to us and demanding, "Who are you?"
"Federal agents," Gibbs answers him, while we flash our badge.
"NTSB?" Taylor demands of us because he didn't read the letters on the badge.
"NCIS," I correct him.
"Right. You gotta love those acronyms. Maybe that's what this company needs. Huh? An acronym."
"Bad day, Mister Taylor?" Ziva asks him.
"I guess that depends on what you want. Excuse me."
"Liam O'Neill. You flew him to Baghdad and back this week," Gibbs states.
"All legal. Had a passport, cleared customs. Filed the paperwork."
"Why did he fly with you?" Ziva asks him.
"Fast flight. Oh, F.F. there's an acronym for you. Stands for free flights."
"You flew him free of charge?"
"Ex-Royal Air Force, a good deed for a serving Marine. Don't get a lot of people hitching a ride to Baghdad."
"Why was he going to Baghdad?"
"Ah, said he was on leave. He just found out his unit had been hit. One of his buddies was wounded. Wanted to see him. What's he done?"
"Someone tried to kill him."
"Is he going to be okay?" Taylor asks us after a moment of silence.
"Maybe."
"Something you want to add?" I ask him.
"Some guys met him outside Baghdad International Airport," Taylor informs us as Ziva's phone begins ringing.
"What guys?" Gibbs demands of him.
"Yes," Ziva answers her phone.
"B.A.G.s bad ass guys. With guns," Taylor explains to us as Ziva quietly speaks into her phone.
"Plenty of them in Baghdad. You ask him about it on the flight home?" I ask him.
"Wasn't very talkative. His buddy didn't make it."
"Someone's with Corporal O'Neill at the hospital," Ziva informs us know she is off the phone.
"Next of kin?" Gibbs ask she.
"He has no next of kin."
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"Hello, Probie," Franks greets Gibbs as we enter the hospital room to see him with our victim.
"Hello, Mike," Gibbs begins.
"Hey Mike. Jethro's not quitting again… or going back to Mexico… just saying," I inform Mike as I grip Gibbs' arm so he can't leave me again.
"You know this marine?"
"He's my son," Franks informs us.
"I thought you were married to Gibbs. How can you have a son?"
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"Here you go. Black. No sugar," Ziva says as she hands Franks a coffee.
"You never told me you had a son," Gibs states.
"Didn't find out 'till a couple of years ago. Got a phone call one day. It was him. He tracked me down. We met. Had a few beers. He was just about to deploy. Didn't hear from him again until a couple of days ago. Said he was in trouble."
"Why is that the only reason anyone calls you?" I ask Franks because that seems to be the truth. In trouble, call Franks…
"What kind of trouble?" Gibbs asks Franks while giving me a look for getting off topic.
"Didn't say. You wouldn't know it now, but he's got his mother's har. Used to blow across her face and get in her eyes. She'd get so pissed! And I'd laugh. She died a few years ago. We were only together the six months. Didn't even know she was pregnant when she left," Franks informs us.
"What do the doctor say? He getting better or going to pull a Jethro?" I ask Franks making him smile at me for that joke.
"What doctors always say. Not much that makes any sense. Doing tests/ brain waves and reflexes. All that neurological stuff. Do you know who did this, probie?"
"Not yet," Gibbs informs him old boss.
"Guess you would tell me if you did."
"No. you need a place to stay tonight, Mike?"
"Might just stay here with my boy."
"Hospital beds and chairs aren't comfortable to sleep in. I speak from experience, waiting for sleeping beauty to wake up. And I'm young, so your old body isn't going to be able to handle it," I warn him. Before I follow Gibbs out of the room to see the nurse.
"IS there any hope?" I ask the nurse.
"As I was just explaining to your colleague, the patient is unresponsive to external stimuli," Leisten, the nurse, informs me.
"His name's Corporal O'Neill," Gibbs informs her because no one deserves not to have a name.
"Corporal O'Neill. There's still more testing to do, which will determine if there's any cerebral circulation present. But at this point, it would be wrong to offer any hope."
"When will you know for certain?" I ask her.
"Tomorrow."
"Thank you," Ziva says to her.
"Sure," Leisten says before walking off.
"He knows?"
"He knows," Gibbs agrees with her.
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"Company is Owned by Jalil Shaloub. Known to his friends and enemies as 'Jimmy.' Small times investment advisor, big time loan shark. Also on homeland security's watch list. Iraqi father. Lebanese mother. Moved here after the first gulf war," McGee reports in the squad room about O'Neill's calls to Iraq before flying over there.
"Any active surveillance?" Ziva asks McGee.
"None that anyone is admitting to. Shaloub channels money into a Beirut investment bank, which ay or any not support Hezbollah."
"Hezbollah? He walks a dangerous path."
"What's the connection with Corporal O'Neill?" Tony asks them.
"Could be software, hardware, troop deployments, timetables. O'Neill could be a seller."
"OR a buyer," McGee adds.
"Wither way he keeps back company… and Mike's going to kill us," I state as I take a sip of my coffee.
"You think Franks knows?" McGee asks me.
"I think Mike knows more than we do… just not about this case. Jethro's life, hell yeah and I need to get him to talk about it," I answer them.
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"Know him, Mister Shaloub?" Ziva asks Jimmy Shaloub in his office.
"Marine Corporal Liam O'Neill. He came to see me," Jimmy Shaloub informs us.
"When?" Gibbs asks him.
"Two days ago."
"About?" I ask him next.
"What all of my clients come to see me about, Agent Todd. Money."
"You give him any?" Gibs asks him.
"NO, I decided he was too risky a proposition."
"What interest rate do you charge?" Ziva asks him.
"Why? Do you need a loan?"
"Fifty per cent? One hundred percent? Two hundred percent? I would say the risk si theirs. How much did Corporal O'Neill want?" Ziva asks him with a chuckle.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars."
"For?" I ask him.
"MY policy is not to ask."
"Maybe you didn't have to," Ziva states.
"We met, we drank coffee, we did not do business. He told me nothing about why he needed the money."
"How soon did he need it?" Gibbs asks him.
"Immediately."
"Cash?" I ask him.
"Of course, all my clients prefer cash."
"Even the ones in Beirut and Baghdad?" Gibbs asks him.
"I'm sorry I can't be more helpful. From all the questions you're asking, I can only assume that Corporal O'Neill is involved in some criminal activity, Agent Gibbs."
"You mean like you?" Ziva asks him.
"If you believe that, Officer David, we would be meeting in your office, not mine."
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"IS there someone you can call?" Gibbs asks Ziva as we return to the squad room where Jimmy Shaloub's photo is still up on the plasma screen.
"Might have a friend in Tel Aviv," Ziva informs Gibbs.
"Make it happen, Ziva."
"Shared intelligence."
"I'll settle for any. McGee? Turn over the rock on this guy: company records, IRS, back details."
"I'll check the homeland Security file. What am I looking for?" McGee asks us in confusion.
"You'll know it when you see it," I inform McGee as the elevator dings and opens to show Mike Franks standing in there.
"How is he?" Gibbs asks his boss.
"They're done testing. Liam mixed up with him?" Franks asks us he nodes to Jimmy Shaloub.
"McGee," Gibbs orders his agent, making McGee shut down the plasma screen.
"Who is he?"
"Can't say… can't pronouns his name," I inform him.
"Whatever he's done… good or bad… he's still my boy."
"Well then it's bad because he has your genes."
"Nothing else I can tell you," Gibbs reminds Franks while ignoring my comment about Mike Franks genes.
"It's not why I'm here," Franks informs us before leading us down to the back elevator.
"Are you alright Mike? Or do you need a drink?" I ask Franks in the elevator.
"I'm fine…"
"Don't lie, it'll make your wrinkles get bigger," I warn him making him laugh at me. We silent ride the elevator down in to the lab. We walk out to talk to Abby.
"That's everything… apart from his clothing, and his car. We're still checking that for prints," Abby informs Franks about his son's items.
"Said it belonged to his mother. Her religion… and mine. It's war and peace. Can you release these?" Franks asks us as he picks up a necklace with two charms on it. Abby nodes and signs it out of the to Franks. Franks than asks us, "I need one more thing, probie. A witness."
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I am standing at the nurses desk with Gibbs while Franks in the in the room with his son as the doctors remove the life support. I grab Gibbs hand as I hear the heart monitor flat line in O'Neill's room. I turn and hide my head in Gibbs chest because I don't like death, I might be surrounded by it every day but I really don't like it.
After a moment a moment, Gibbs pulls me from his chest, leaving his arm around my shoulder and walks me into the room to check on Mike Franks who just lost his family. But when we enter the room Franks is already gone like normal. That guy is a magical, disappearing and reappearing without a sign or sound… reminds me of someone else.
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"I waited for you, Gibbs," Abby exclaims as we walk into the lab.
"You got something," Gibbs asks her.
"I do. And you're not going to like it. The print on the left was lifted from inside Liam's car. The print on the right is a match from our data base. Franks was in the car, Gibbs," Abby informs us making me blink in surprise. I thought he was in Mexico before O'Neill was hospitalized.
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"How much did Franks know?" McGee asks in the squad room.
"Not enough to save his son," Ziva reminds us.
"Maybe not much at all. You ever tell your did what you were up to, Probie?" Tony asks the wrong person.
"Every day," McGee answers, proving me ring.
"Wrong person to ask."
"Liam Flew to Baghdad, met some bad guys. Flew back, and someone tried to kill him," Ziva states.
"Succeeded."
"Deal gone wrong, maybe?"
"Dealing what?" I ask them.
"He was communications specialist… equipment, software, secrets."
"Only had limited access. Didn't know any secrets," Tony reminds her as Gibbs phone begins ringing.
"Yeah. Gibbs… could be,. Mike. Come on in. I'll brief you… where?... I'll be right there," Gibbs talks to Franks before hanging up the phone.
"Need any backup, Boss?" Tony asks Gibbs as Gibbs grabs his gun and badge.
"Friend, not for, DiNozzo," Gibbs reminds him as I grab my gun and badge to follow him.
"Want me?" I ask him.
"DO I really have a choice?"
"Nope, I was just being polite," I inform him as we leave.
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"Found your prints in his car, Mike," Gibbs informs his boss in an industrial area.
"Figured you probably would," Franks comments as he takes a smoke out to smoke.
"You should have mentioned that you say him… would have made this investigation easier," I inform Franks.
"Didn't want you asking me to many questions."
"We have to ask them, to catch the bastard that hurt O'Neill," I remind him.
"About?" Gibbs asks Franks.
"What my son was involved in," Franks informs us.
"Are you going to tell us?" I ask him softly, this couldn't be easy. When Kate died I didn't have to answer any questions because I worked for NCIS and I could kill the guy, I didn't but I could.
"I saw him a couple of days ago. He needed money. Just about cleaned me out. But I got it for him. Twenty-five thousand. He took give hundred, asked me to hold the rest. Said it was safer that way. Said he would call me when he needed it. Never called."
"What's this about?" Gibbs asks him.
"Wouldn't tell me."
"He wouldn't tell you, or you won't tell us? Because we will work it out," I state.
"we're getting more alike, you and me, probie. Even feeling the same pain. I don't know how you didn't go crazy when you lost your little girl. Maybe you did for a while. Maybe you still are. I just know I got to do what's right for my boy. I own him that," Franks says to Gibbs while ignoring me. When he mentioned Kelly, I grabbed Gibbs hand, offering him what comfort I can.
"Let us handle it."
"You got to be somewhere?" Gibbs informs him.
"I want the body sent to my place in Mexico when Ducky's done with it. Can you arrange that for me?" Franks asks Gibbs.
"I don't want to have to come after you, Mike," Gibbs states.
"Then don't."
"You're still not stealing my boyfriend again," I remind Franks.
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"Ziva, talk to your friend yet?" I ask Ziva as we return to the squad room.
"Shaloub is a person of interest, but that is all. No known terrorist links. More concerned with money than ideology," Ziva reports back.
"It's Mike Franks; rental. Put a BOLO on it," Gibbs says as he hands the page out of his notebook to Ziva.
"Well, if he has been here, he's probably booked into a hotel or motel."
"Start checking. McGee," Gibbs orders him.
"I'm still trying to crack Liam's voice mail security code. It's a matter of time," McGee informs us.
"It's something we don't have. DiNozzo."
"Boss," Tony asks because he doesn't know what Gibbs wants for a change.
"You help Ziva," Gibbs orders him before leading me out of the squad room to go talk to Abby. I step into the elevator before Gibbs.
"Are you alright, Jethro?" I ask him as I stop the elevator.
"I'm fine," Gibbs lies to me.
"Jethro, don't lie."
"I wouldn't wish the death of a child on my worst enemy, let alone my friend."
"I know… I wish no one had to experience that," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his waist, holding my man. Gibbs holds me tightly, gripping the back of my clothing, and I feel where he buries my hair get wet. Letting me know he is crying. I rub his back in an attempt to calm him down.
"I miss Kelly so much," Gibbs cries making me hold him tightly.
"I know. But she is here with you every day, in your heart," I promise him, making him node without releasing me.
"I do hope so," Gibbs mumbles as he continues to hold me, crying into my hair.
"Jethro… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad," I whisper as I hold him.
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"Gibbs! You shouldn't be here. I don't have anything for you, and I didn't send out any 'calling Gibbs' vibes," Abby exclaims as we finally walk into the lab.
"I'm not psychic, Abs. just checking. Did Mike try to get information about the case?" Gibbs asks her.
"I barely saw him."
"Hasn't phoned?" I ask Abby.
"NO. you thought he might try to sneak a peek at the evidence?"
"He did work for NCIS once."
"I would," Gibbs overlaps at me.
"Well then why didn't he… seeing as you two are so much alike? Peas in a pod, Gibbs. Tweedled dee, tweedled Dum," Abby insults the two old men as her computer beeps with the results making her exclaim, "Whoa, Gibbs! You knew before I knew it knew! Before it knew it knew! This is getting really spooky. The green compound we found in Corporal O'Neill's pants pocket. That's what I was going to call you about. This is getting really spooky. Lawsonia inermis. More commonly know as Henna. It's used in body in art. Mostly in the middle east. It's beautiful, but it doesn't last. Not like a real tattoo."
"Other uses?" I ask her.
"A hair dye. But the tattoos are really cool. They have a lot of intricate patterns and shading. I should probably get one. What do you think? Don't answer out load. Just think it," Abby asks making me give Gibbs a look before we walk off without answering her because she is being extra Abby today. We take the elevator down to autopsy, silently this time.
"You're two hours early, Jethro. I'm only just beginning," Ducky informs us as we walk in to autopsy.
"I need tattoos, Ducky," Gibbs orders his old friend as we walk over to O'Neill.
"Ah, a direct inquiry demanding a direct response, which in this case, is a direct no. somewhat surprising for a young marine," Ducky informs us as his phone begins to ring. Ducky walks to his desk, and answers it, "Autopsy… yes, he is… Indeed." Ducky hangs up the phone and informs us, "Timothy says to tell you that he's cracked the code, whatever that may mean."
"Thanks, dad," I say to him before we leave autopsy and head back up to the squad room to find out what McGee found. We step into the elevator silently and I don't mind. I just stand next to Gibbs, waiting for the squad room.
"There's only one message in Liam's in-box," McGee informs us as we enter the room.
"Hey, buddy. Your package arrived at the end of the week. If you want to pick it up, the price just doubled," a voice says over the phone.
"Nick Taylor," Ziva recognize the voice being the fast flight pilot.
"The last call that Liam made as Fast Flight. Maybe it was to arrange a meeting," McGee offers.
"They meet. They argue. They fight," Tony comments.
"Logged int F.A.A, Gibbs. Fast flight… FF… seven-one-six freight service from Baghdad. We have a problem. It landed and hour and a half ago," Ziva informs us.
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We arrive at the warehouse and begin searching it, moving around the containers.
"Clear!" Ziva calls out.
"Clear!" Tony adds.
"Clear," McGee agrees.
"Somebody beat us to it," Ziva comments when we found the bodies on the ground.
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"Multiple victims. Multiple wounds," Ducky comments as he looks over the bodies in the warehouse.
"Pray and spray," Gibbs comments.
"Possible. Bit dead in a matter of fifteen or twenty minutes before you arrived. Jethro, do you think…"
"We're not speculating, dad. We need evidence," I inform him.
"Gibbs. Blankets, pillows, water bottles," Ziva calls out what she found.
"All the comforts of home," McGee informs us.
"Human cargo."
"Looks to be three of everything."
"Bit only two bodies, assuming Taylor was already here at the office."
"One got away," I state.
"The shooter?"
"Maybe," Gibbs answers her.
"Boss," McGee calls to us as we walk over to him to see a tiny book.
"Arabic," Gibbs says as he picks the book up.
"That's a Koran," Ziva informs us what the book is.
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"The FFA says all the paperwork was in order when the flight landed," Ziva reports back in the squad room.
"Customs?" Gibbs asks her.
"Only checked the cargo manifest. No x-ray, no physical search of air containers. It was unloaded and taken straight to the warehouse."
"Air crew?" I ask her next.
"Oblivious. Still at the airport overseeing an engine inspection."
"Got an I.D. on the other two victims here. Peter Tomas McLean, Private, United States Army. Reported missing three weeks ago from the U.A. Army base in Wuerzburg, near Frankfurt," McGee informs us.
"Missing?"
"Deserted unit was shipped to Iraq two days after he disappeared. Second victim is Franz Bernhard Schuler. He's a German National wanted by Interpol for murder. Killed a cop. Believed to be trying to flee Europe for the united states."
"Made it. Almost."
"Taylor was running a passenger service for bad guys. I wonder how much the tickets were?" Tony comments.
"Too much," McGee answers him.
"Which leads us to passenger number three, Muslim and missing," Ziva reminds us.
"Terrorist?"
"Might explain all the dead bodies. Left no one alive to identify him."
"Or maybe just a frightened witness who got away," Tony reminds them the other option.
"Anything?" Gibbs asks Tony about Franks.
"Pone company can't track him. Franks must have his call phone off."
"He knows we'd be trying to get a hold of him," McGee comments as his phone rings. He answers it, "McGee… Where?... got it. Thanks." McGee hangs up his phone before informing us, "Metro Police found Franks' car."
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"We could fall back and set up surveillance," Ziva offers as we walk towards Franks car on the street.
"Ah, it's too late," Gibbs informs her because Franks would have already seen us.
"Must be a dozen hotel within a mile of here, boss. Parked and walked?" Tony informs us.
"That's what I'd do," I state.
"I'll start checking them as soon as we get back," Tony informs us as we open the car and see a gun out in the open. Tony exclaims, "Oh, boy… recently fired."
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"DO you think he did it?" McGee asks everyone in the squad room, hoping Gibbs doesn't hear him.
"Mike Franks is a very capable man," Ziva half answers him.
"That extend to murder?"
"Revenge. Taylor killed his son," Tony reminds McGee.
"Still murder…"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs snaps as he walks into the squad room, cutting off this conversation which I am glade of because I like Franks and would hate to see the FBI Sacks again.
"Ah… seventeen hotels and motels within fifteen minutes' walk of where we found the car. I'm emailing the photo of Franks now."
"Glock?" I ask them.
"Ah, registered to Nick Taylor. He was licensed shooter," Ziva answers me.
"McGee, you found anything under that rock yet?" Gibbs asks him.
"I'm still working, boss," McGee reports.
"IRS?" I ask him.
"Clean bill of health. Shaloub pays his taxes. Files his returns. Pagoda's got a modest turnover. The more you look, the less you see."
"He's got to hide his money somewhere, probie," Tony states.
"No association with any charities?" Ziva asks McGee.
"I know where you're headed, but he's not making any big donations to suspect charities," McGee informs us.
"Travel?" Gibbs asks him.
"In and out of the country seven times over the last four months. Which is odd because this guy is meticulous with his tac returns. His lists all his deductions. All that travel and he didn't claim it as a business expense."
"Well someone must have been paying for him," Tony states.
"Or he wasn't paying at all," Ziva offers the other option.
"Check when and where he flew against FAA records," Gibbs orders us.
"All that's going to tell us is what airline he flew. Typing. Same airline every time. Fast flight," McGee informs us after getting a glare from Gibbs when he said all it would telling what airline he flies.
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"Sometimes I fly fast flight instead of scheduled commercial flights. I wasn't breaking the lay, Agent Gibbs. Or any FFA regulations," Jimmy Shaloub snaps at us in integration room.
"Fast Flight is only registered to carry freight, not passengers," Ziva informs him.
"I wasn't a paying passenger."
"Taylor was doing you a favour?"
"Let me tell you what you clearly don't know, Agent Gibbs. I helped finance Fast Flight. What you might call a silent partner. Not one of my wiser investment decisions."
"When?" I ask him.
"Twelve months ago."
"How much?" Ziva asks him.
"Initial outlay was half a million dollars. I have pumped in as much again in the last six months. Free flights to Europe were the only return I was seeing on my money. The company is failing. Taylor is incompetent."
"Was," Gibbs corrects him.
"Something's happened?" Jimmy Shaloub asks us after a moment of silence.
"You should know. You were there," Ziva informs him.
"Where?"
"The warehouse."
"Three men were shot dead, including Taylor," I inform him.
"I had nothing to do with this," Jimmy Shaloub exclaims.
"Why did you do it?" Gibbs asks him.
"I just told you I didn't!"
"Because Taylor was smuggling people into the country and didn't tell you?" Ziva asks him.
"NO!"
"OR you just found out and wanted a cut of the action," I state.
"No! I had nothing to do with that, Agent Gibbs. You've got the wrong man."
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"Bad," Abby tells McGee in the lab as Gibbs and I enter.
"How bad?" Gibbs asks her, announcing our presents in the room.
"The striations on the bullets match the Glock found in Mike Franks' car. It's the murder weapon," Abby informs us.
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"Thanks," Tony says into his phone before hanging up and informing us, "Found Franks, boss. Booked into a hotel fifteen minutes' walk from where we found the car. Fails name, paid cash. Manager I. him from the photo I emailed. Hotel's at one-one-two-seven Church Avenue. Franks is still there."
"Will we bring him in?" Zia asks Gibbs.
"It's glass, boss. Crystalline silica and calcium oxide… used in glass-making. It was all over the Glock. Even in the slide-action. Abby had to clean it before she could fire it. Anyway, there is a glass manufacturer right next to the fast flight warehouse," McGee reports to us. Gibbs storms of and I follow him to interrogation room where we are still holding Jimmy Shaloub.
"Agent Gibbs," Jimmy Shaloub exclaims as we storm in to the room.
"Take off your shoes," Gibbs orders him without any hesitation.
"What?"
"Need to look at your shoes," McGee informs him making Jimmy Shaloub take the shoes off and hand them to McGee.
"Wallet," Gibbs orders him making him hand the wallet over. Gibbs looks at the money inside, matching it to the money Franks gave O'Neill.
"Sequential serial numbers," I state.
"Where's the rest?" Gibbs demands of him.
"You think you can intimidate me, Agent Gibbs?" Jimmy Shaloub snaps at my boyfriend.
"McGee?" Gibbs turns to the agent looking at the shoes.
"Looks like traces of calcium oxide and crystalline silica in the treads," McGee reports.
"It's used in glass manufacturing… if you want to know what that means," I inform Jimmy Shaloub.
"Hollander Glass Company is right next door to Fast flight. Did you ever notice all that write stuff on the ground behind the back of their building? That is crystalline silica and calcium oxide," McGee explains.
"You got it on your shoes when you dumped this into the dumpster behind their building. You should have left it at the scene," Gibbs explains as he holds the gun up.
"IT wasn't me!" Jimmy Shaloub denies it.
"We've got a witness!" I inform him calmly.
"I had nothing to do with the murder of that Marine. Taylor was out of control. Trying to cash-flow his business by people-smuggling. He wouldn't let them leave because he wanted more money. Then he pulls that gun on me. I took it off him! I was defending myself!"
"What about the other two?" Gibbs asks him, making Jimmy Shaloub blink in surprise when he release we have him on murder and he can't explain any other murders away.
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Hey! We got him," Gibbs informs Franks on the street where he is getting ready to get into a car on the street.
"I knew you'd figure it out eventually, probie," Franks informs him.
"Unfinished business. That why you went there?" Gibbs asks while nodding to the girl in the back of Franks car.
"I owed him that."
"Paid the rest of the cash, picked up the package," I state what he did.
"Came back to the hotel."
"But you went back again, didn't you, Mike?" Gibbs asks him.
"Shaloub was already there. I heard the shots. I saw him come out of the building in a panic. I saw him wipe the weapon, and toss it over into the dumpster."
"You were going to plant it in his car, then give me a call?"
"That was the idea. But you found my rental, and I didn't get a chance."
"Well, you were a witness. You didn't need to do that, unless you had something to hide, Mike," I state.
"She's from Mexico," Franks lie to us as he nodes to the girl. Gibbs hands over the Koran we found making Franks continue, "We left in a bit of a hurry. They were going to be married. Her family in Baghdad said that she shamed them. She's been in hiding for six months. He was desperate to get her out. I don't think any of this is relevant to your case, probie."
"I guess not, Mike," Gibbs comments.
"Goodbye… you can take her, I'll keep this one," I say to Franks making him smile at me with a node before I walk away with Gibbs. We don't get even ten steps away when we hear a baby crying and turn around to see the girl soothing a baby with blonde hair in the back of the car. I say, "Well, look at that…"
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"I can't believe Mike's son had a kid… no actually I can't believe Mike had a kid," I say in the basement of Gibbs house because that is so surprising. I am leaning against the workbench, with my hair out of it holder because Gibbs like when I let it down. We are both still wearing our work clothing.
"Me neither," Gibbs agrees with me.
"I wonder how many kids Tony has."
"Let's not go there."
"Yeah… I can't count that high anyway," I exclaim as I take a sip of my bourbon.
"I'm sure you can't… so what was this last weekend you were saying, that I'm old?"
"You are old… do you even have parents or were you hatched in a lab, from an egg, by dinosaurs?" I ask Gibbs as he pins me against the workbench I am leading against.
"I have parents… I'm not that old," Gibbs defends himself while stealing my glass of bourbon because he has already finished his own.
"You were old when I met you on that beach, and you are older now," I tease him.
"Whatever," Gibbs dismisses it as he places a kiss on my lips.
()
"Old man what to play?" I continue to tease him making him fake glare at me.
"I'll show you just how old I am," Gibbs promise me as he leans in, kissing me properly. He pins me against the bench. I run my hand up his back and run it through his hair, kissing him back. Gibbs breaks the kiss and I kiss down his neck. I find the spot behind his right ear, and begin to suck on it, leaving a mark. Gibbs runs his hand down my body until it reaches my ass where he squeezes it making me moan. He used his grip on my ass to lift me onto the work bench. Once I am seated on the bench, Gibbs steps up between my open legs, pushing his growing bulge between them.
"Jethro," I gasp out as he smirks down at me.
"Alice," Gibbs whispers in my ear before placing a kiss on my head about the ear, before moving back to my lips for a kiss.
Gibbs continues to kiss my lips while running his hands up my body until he reaches my breast that he palms them making me moan into his mouth. He continues to palm my right breast while he moves his other hand down my body and grabs the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head. To get it off of my body Gibbs has to break the kiss, once the shirt it out of his way he drops the shirt onto the dirty floor and drops his head to kiss the top of my breast making me moan in pleasure. Gibbs gently pulls my bra down so that my left break falls out into the cold basement air, which he quickly engulfs into his warm mouth, which is a stark comparison to the air. He sucks on it before releasing it from his mouth and blows on it making me gasp out in surprise because I didn't expect him to do that.
"Jethro," I moan making him chuckle as he undoes the bra completely and drops it on the ground as he engulfs me other breast into his mouth. I grip his hair as run my other hand down his back. Gibbs gently bits that nipple making me moan again.
I run my hand up under his shirt over his back. I move the shirt up his body until it is just below his arms because he is running his hand over my body. I pull on the shirt until he finally stops kissing my breast long enough to remove the shirt before returning his attention back to my breasts while I drop the shirt onto the ground.
Gibbs continues to suck on my breast as he pulls and twist the other with his hand, making me moan again. I grip Gibbs hair with one hand and his back with the other. I pull on Gibbs hair as he lightly scraps his teeth along the nipple, before blowing on it again and then engulfing it in his mouth, teasing me. Gibbs begins to grind his bulge into me, giving us the friction we both need.
"Gibbs," a voice says from the stairs, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground…
