A/N: written for challenge 133 - "move" at ncis_drabble.
When the DCI approaches Trent, he doesn't say no. The way he phrases it sounds more like a request, but Kort's been around long enough to know you don't get where you want to be by sitting idle behind your desk.
At some point, you have to stand up and demand your piece of the pie. No one's going to hand it over willingly without a fight, but Trent's ready. He knows where he stands on the chessboard and in three moves, it's checkmate. He wants more. The CIA took his soul, now he's taking it back.
Gibbs doesn't know what the deal is. He knows Trent's been eyeing some new position at the Agency, that it'll open up doors for him, but when Kort comes home on the first day with bruises down his back and death in his eyes, it's clear something has changed.
Trent's perpetual grumpy face prompts a phone call to the Assistant Director of Operations at NCIS. She hasn't seen Trent in a month, and there's no operation that would require him to be bruised like that, nor is he the underground fight club type.
It's not until a year and a half and multiple deaths later that Jethro finally realises what was staring him in the face. It tears him apart to know he could've prevented this nightmare with a few words of concern.
Trent walks away two months later. The guilt tears him up inside, and as ever he hides it all. Gibbs says nothing, he just watches as Kort repacks his go bag and leaves.
Four hour later, he gets a text. It's Hayes, the ADO, and she's got a drunk Englishman on her couch. He's slurring his words and batting those soft eyelashes. Too bad his tricks won't work.
What happened?
Gibbs doesn't answer the text immediately. He needs time to process. It hasn't quite sunk in yet about who's responsible for the death of Mike Franks.
He flew too close to the sun.