NCIS
Ducky yawned as he walked down the stairs to the morgue. He hadn't forced himself to be too awake since he knew there was no backlog of paperwork from their empty on-call weekend, and he enjoyed having an easy and fresh start to his Monday. As the doors slid open to the unlit morgue, he immediately noticed a body wrapped in a translucent tarp laying on one of the examination tables. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Gibbs sitting silently in the opposite corner with his pistol resting in his hand and camouflage paint on his face, his eyes watching over the body with a grave stare now illuminated by the stairway lights. Ducky's mouth hung in worried surprise as he flipped the lights and began taking off his coat and hat.
"Jethro, what happened?" Ducky asked in a low but urgent tone.
Gibbs squinted as he tried to adjust to the light, then stood up stiffly and holstered his gun. "An OMNI assassin just tried to kill Abby."
Ducky's heart dropped. "Is she alright? Where is she?"
"She's fine," Gibbs grunted. "She's already in her lab running blood and DNA on this guy. We need to know who he is, where he's been, everything, and completely under the radar."
Ducky frowned. "Under… I don't understand. Isn't there an investigation?"
Gibbs huffed and turned to the sink, then began splashing water on his face and scrubbing off the paint.
Ducky protested, "Jethro, there's a thin line between discreet and illegal. I'll help Abby, of course, but I need to know which side of that line I'm about to be on."
Gibbs slapped the knob to shut off the water and rose to glare intensely at him. "Shepard knew Abby was being hunted and didn't tell me. She told her that she was safe while the assassin's gun was pointed at her. You tell me which side of the line that is, and I'll tell you which side of the ground Shepard will be tonight."
NCIS
McGee tapped distractedly at his keyboard, absentmindedly filling out requisition forms for computer equipment that he didn't really need but could get away with getting for the team. He decided to tell Supply that his and Abby's computers both needed RAM upgrades to handle the workload of being synced together. While it wasn't entirely untrue, McGee mainly wanted to do the upgrade to not think about why Riley hadn't called or answered his phone. McGee called late that Sunday to leave a message, and once again earlier that morning. The second call went directly to voicemail instead of ringing, which McGee took to mean that Riley's phone was off for some kind of work. He convinced himself not to be worried yet, but he was concerned that Riley had changed his mind.
Gibbs was already there when McGee arrived that morning, but he had been completely silent. McGee noticed that he looked exhausted and that there was something slightly off about the color of his face, but more importantly that he looked like he was waiting for something. Ziva and Tony appeared with their usual Monday attempts to seem alert, and merely nodded as they each entered the bullpen.
McGee stood up to take his form down to Supply but was distracted by two men in black suits approaching the bullpen. The taller of the two men looked familiar, though McGee couldn't put a name to the face. He was bald with a rounded jaw and full moustache, and carried a folder marked with an agency stamp that McGee couldn't quite make out from the distance. The other agent was thin and lanky with brown hair and pale blue eyes. The taller man approached Gibbs' desk and pulled out his badge.
"Special Agent Gibbs?" he asked in a deep, gravel-like voice.
Gibbs stood and stared at the other man, also vaguely recognizing him. "Yeah."
"Special Agent King and my partner, Special Agent Walker, FBI," he continued with a slight Brooklyn accent. "We need to speak with Special Agent Timothy McGee."
Gibbs raised an eyebrow and briefly glanced over to McGee before looking back at Agent King. McGee knew instantly to return to his side. Seeing the FBI stamp on the folder, McGee recognized the man as Riley's boss at the FBI, who they encountered while tracking an OMNI agent.
"About?" Gibbs asked.
King tried to match Gibbs' stare but faltered momentarily. "It's a sensitive case, and we would rather be sure the information is contained." He turned to McGee. "Agent McGee, please accompany us back to FBI headquarters. We just have a few questions for you."
McGee's mind tripped over itself trying to figure out what was happening, but Gibbs interrupted.
"If you have questions to ask, you can ask them here," he suggested sternly.
"This will be on record," King replied. "May we use your Interrogation Room?"
Gibbs warily gestured for them towards the hallway to Interrogation, then looked up towards MTAC. Director Shepard observed from the railing upstairs with a concerned look on her face. Gibbs studied her face, then watched her quickly go down the stairs. Though instead of coming towards them to intervene, she turned the other way towards the back stairs. Gibbs narrowed his eyes, and his face betrayed a small snarl before he turned to join the others.
Agent Walker relieved the recording technician, and while Ziva, Tony, and Gibbs also filed into Observation, McGee and King slowly took their places on the other side of the glass in Interrogation. McGee felt uncomfortable being on the other side of the table again so soon after Fornell's interrogation last week, but he was more concerned about why the FBI wanted to question him and why Riley wasn't there with them.
King laid down the folder and studied McGee for a moment before asking, "Do you know Special Agent Riley Mathis?"
McGee's heart twisted with his worst fears. "Um… yes. I know him."
"How well?"
"I… Fairly well, I guess. I've only known him for a few months, though." McGee's lower lip quivered with nerves.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"Saturday afternoon."
King stared calculatingly at him. "Are you familiar with his work at the FBI?"
McGee thought back to their conversations. "Vaguely. I know he was hunting a cyber terrorist group known as OMNI for a while, but I thought he moved onto other assignments."
"And he told you of the progress he had made?"
"Not exactly, though we did collaborate on a raid on an OMNI warehouse in which you were also involved." McGee wasn't sure if he should say anything about Riley telling him about the OMNI agents in FBI custody ending up dead, but he kept the fact ready if necessary.
King opened a folder and pulled out a sheet with several numbers on it. "Mathis called you Sunday evening. What did you talk about?"
McGee's heart was racing down to the floor. "We didn't talk, I was here at the time. He left a message on my machine at home. What is all of this about?"
"What did he say?" King continued coldly, his rough voice only making McGee more uneasy.
McGee froze. He didn't really know who this man was other than that he worked at the FBI and was Riley's boss. McGee couldn't face the blackness of his worst fear to consider what else could be happing with Riley. Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony each looked with anticipation through the glass.
"Agent McGee?" King repeated the question, "What did Agent Mathis tell you in his message?"
"It was a personal message, unrelated to either of our jobs. He was proofreading a book I'm publishing, and he was calling to tell me what he thought. What is this about?" McGee demanded.
King studied him for a moment, then shuffled around a few papers in his folder. "Special Agent Mathis was found dead late Sunday evening."
McGee's heart sank below the pit of his stomach. His eyes shot open, his mouth hung open and trembled, and his stomach felt like it would twist him into illness. His lungs refused to breath. He felt the lump build in his throat and the burn begin in his eyes, but he couldn't even begin to know how to fight it. The color drained from his face and his chest lurched forward. Behind the glass, Ziva held her hand over her mouth, Tony stood entirely stunned, and Gibbs' fists were clenched so tight they were white.
"D-d-dead?" McGee stammered. "No. No."
"I'm afraid so," King replied without a hint of expression, still observing McGee's reaction. He looked at the camera, snapped his fingers, and gestured a cutting motion with his hand.
Behind the glass, Walker cut the camera and audio feed from recording.
King looked to see that the camera's red light had turned off, then turned back to McGee with a lowered voice. "I was Agent Mathis' supervisor in the FBI, and I have an idea of his… preferences. If you had a personal relationship with him, the details would not go on record, but we do need to know if he left any sign or hint that he was under duress in your message. That call was the last he placed before he died."
He snapped his fingers, and Walker began recording audio and video again.
A tear spilled over McGee's cheek as his whole body trembled. He tried to coherently speak, but his lungs rebelled. "I… We… W-we had a fight and hadn't spoken for a few days, but… I wrote something for him. H-he called me to tell me that h-he… that he loves me…" he crossed his arms in front of him and held himself tightly as if his chest would collapse outward if he didn't, "… and that we were going to make things work again."
Ziva tried to steel herself emotionally while seeing McGee in pain. Tony's face was scrunched into a frown as he also tried to contain himself. Gibbs continued to stare coldly through the glass, not even looking at McGee or the FBI agent.
King nodded. "Is that all?"
McGee took a couple of deep breaths, swiped away the fallen tear and tried to quickly dry his eyes with his sleeve, then tried to keep himself steady by gripping the seat of the chair. His nose was starting to fill but he sniffed through it. "He- um- he had asked me to call him back and leave a message, and that we'd spend tonight together. I've called him but I haven't heard back."
"And was anything unusual about the message? The way he spoke, a phrase he rarely uses?"
McGee thought back to the message, every word ringing loudly in his ears. He slowly shook his head negatively.
King continued, "Did Mathis ever mention to you that he might be in any danger because of his work?"
McGee tried to regain his composure before answering on record. "In a way, yes. A couple of weeks ago when I saw him, he was keeping a personal sidearm close because his work was getting more dangerous. But he didn't tell me that anyone threatened him specifically. How… how did it happen?" McGee regretted asking the question but needed to know. His grip on the seat of the chair tightened further as he braced himself.
"It appears to have been a car accident, possibly a hit-and-run," King replied. He narrowed his eyes as he glanced down at the papers in front of them. "Ranger patrols spotted damage to a bridge in the Virginia Mountains, and they found his body and motorcycle on the ground below during their inspection. Because of the threatening nature of his work we are investigating it as a possible murder. Do you know why he would've been that far out from DC?"
McGee knew he couldn't lie, but Riley did go to lengths to keep the cabin off-record. He wasn't quite sure what to do, so he admitted what he knew he could. "He likes to ride up the mountain trails. I had gone with him once. He likes watching the sunset from up there." He closed his eyes to try to hold back more tears when he realized he was speaking like Riley was still alive. He also realized he knew the exact bridge where the accident took place because of the ride he took with Riley, and he pictured everything happening there. Another punch landed in his gut. "When… When can I see him?"
King closed the folder and stood up. "His body is still evidence, but once the case is resolved it will be released. Per his personnel profile's request, he wanted to be cremated. His ashes will be given to the next of kin, however I will be sure to contact you if we are unable to locate any other legal family to claim the body."
He nodded again. "Thank you." It slowly dawned on him that Riley had no other family, and that he would probably end up holding Riley's ashes. He played back the events in his mind while King stood up to leave. Riley had gone to the mountains to get away from work and him. Riley was in the mountains because of McGee, and he was on the motorcycle without him because McGee left to go back to work. Riley died and died alone because of him. The guilt wound its way up around his heart like a vine and gripped harder than anything McGee ever felt before.
He stood up and walked out of the room as Ziva burst out of Observation. She tried to reach for him, but he didn't even notice her as he walked down the hall back to the main floor. Tony appeared behind her, stunned and concerned. Looking back into the room, Gibbs was still staring angrily at the glass.
"Boss, what do we do?" Tony asked helplessly.
"Make sure he gets home," he ordered, then turned towards them and stormed out of the room.
As the three of them reached the bullpen, McGee was already on his way out with his bag and his coat. He didn't look at them or even acknowledge them, and Gibbs made no attempt to stop him. Tony and Ziva followed Gibbs' lead in not saying anything but quickly grabbed their gear bags and made to follow McGee.
Before leaving, Tony looked up at Gibbs. "What about you?"
"Rule Three: 'Don't believe what you're told. Double check.'" Gibbs checked his gun to make sure there was a round in the chamber, then stormed to the back stairs.
Ziva leaned towards Tony and whispered, "I thought Rule Three was 'Never be unreachable?'"
Tony's eyes were wide from seeing Gibbs cock his gun, but he quietly whispered back, "His rules, his numbers, and I don't want to be in his way right now. Let's go."
NCIS
Abby's constricted throat let out a strangled sob, which was muffled by her gloved hand over her mouth. Tears flooded down her face and blurred her vision as she looked at the FBI's internal communications on her screen. She had already been emotionally fragile knowing someone from OMNI had just tried to kill her, and she monitored the cameras in the bullpen so she wouldn't have to leave her sealed lab. When the FBI team had arrived, she decided to dig into why they were there, and her first look into the communications blindsided her with a message about Riley's death. She was wearing spare clothes she kept at the lab and had already made up her face, but the mascara was now running down her face with her tears.
Her insides churned and spasmed as she slowly dropped to her knees in terror, still squeaking out agonized cries. She curled into a ball as her brain processed what she had read. She knew it was too well-timed for Riley to have been randomly killed in a motorcycle accident, and what that could possibly mean about the previous night's events. She had flashes of sniper bullets whizzing through her lab windows just like they had when the sniper, Ari Haswari, was targeting the team.
There was a knock at her door which snapped her back to the lab. She sobbed as her fears made her imagine the worst possibilities of who was behind the door. She kicked at the floor and grappled up to her keyboard to check the camera outside the lab.
Director Shepard's voice was hushed as it passed through the thick lab door. "Abby, it's me."
Abby's head whipped around to the door even though she also heard and saw Shepard clearly through the screen. Her feet wouldn't move as she panted through her panic, staring through the walls at Shepard. Her brain cycled between fear and anger towards Shepard, but as she looked at the satellite phone laying on her workstation, she decided to follow her own investigative instincts.
"Abby?" Shepard repeated. "Open the door, we need to talk."
Abby silently shook her head and wiped her tears, then started tapping at her keyboard.
Shepard waited patiently while looking from the door to the camera, knowing it was right on her. The longer she waited, the more her gut told her that Abby already knew about her friend and was mourning. She'd seen Agent Mathis' profile on the screen in MTAC and knew they worked together along with Gibbs. She figured Gibbs would be alright, but Abby was very different when it came to friends dying. She continued waiting, though was surprised as rushed footsteps thundered down the stairs.
She had barely turned around when a hand grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall. She yelped in surprise and brief pain, then she looked up and was shocked by the sight of Gibbs' ice-cold stare behind the sights of the gun pressed to her chest.
"Jethro!" she hissed. "What the he-"
"You know I could kill you just for what you did to Abby," Gibbs growled menacingly. "Your body would look nice next to the one I put in the morgue. It almost was her, even though you told her she was safe from OMNI."
His thumb flicked the safety off and pressed harder against her. Shepard had never seen Gibbs looking as wild and dangerous as he did then. It wasn't hard to guess that despite her orders, Abby had spilled her secret mission to Gibbs and asked for protection. Shepard had almost counted on it, but Gibbs' anger was much greater than she expected.
"She is!" Shepard wheezed. "Now put the gun down before I scream for security!"
"You'll be dead long before they get here unless you tell me everything, now."
The lab door hissed as it opened inward, revealing Abby standing with anger and tears in her eyes.
"Gibbs, in here," she suggested in a voice broken from crying.
Gibbs quickly eyed Shepard for any weapons, then shoved her through the door. Abby quickly closed it behind her, then walked back to her workstation with her arms tightly folded. Shepard stood a few feet from Gibbs, though his gun was still trained squarely on her. Shepard took the opportunity to ask a question of her own.
"Have you lost your fucking mind, Gibbs? Didn't you listen to the FBI? Abby wasn't the target. OMNI chose someone else," she repeated.
"Did they?" Gibbs snarled. "Then why was an assassin about to kill her before I shot him? Why would you tell her she was safe if she was about to be killed?"
"I don't know why someone was after her, only that we'll never know if you decide to SHOOT ME, JETHRO!" Shepard countered, raising her voice and glaring threateningly at Gibbs despite not being armed.
Abby's breath hitched as she worked up the courage to ask, "Was it Riley?"
Shepard glanced at her with surprise, then nodded. "Yes, Special Agent Riley Mathis."
Gibbs emitted a guttural, painful cry unlike anything Shepard had ever heard from him, like he had just been stabbed. He clenched his eyes shut and staggered backward. His gun wavered and lowered slightly, and he seemed to look back through her rather than at her. Abby's fists clenched as more tears gushed from her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Shepard continued while looking at Abby, "I saw from his profile that you used to work together. That's why I came to tell you. I wanted you to know the truth."
"W-w-was it because they couldn't find me?" Abby stammered.
Shepard shook her head. "No, they chose him at random. That's why I texted you that you were safe. You're saying someone still came after you?"
Abby squeaked as she connected the last of the pieces and put her face in her hands. "Which means someone in OMNI still wanted me dead. That means they know who and what I am."
Gibbs' grip tightened around his gun as he raised it back up to the Director, the wildfire renewed in his eyes. "And you let them kill him."
Shepard could understand Gibbs being angry over a fallen former agent, but he was being more emotional than ever. "Put the gun down, Gibbs. I had no idea who they would pick, but I knew Abby would come to you for help. That's why I picked her. There's no way I could've known who else OMNI had on their list before they chose. You're not going to murder me over the death of a former NCIS agent in the line of duty."
"He was never just an agent," Gibbs spat, "Not to me."
"Then point your gun at the FBI, Gibbs, because they're the ones who let OMNI kill him," Shepard retorted, focusing more on disarming Gibbs than understanding what he meant. "Each agency had to put someone in the line of fire."
Gibbs studied her for a moment to determine if she was telling the truth, then decided to lower but not put away his gun. "How did OMNI get to you? What are they offering that's worth sacrificing either of them?"
Shepard breathed easier without the gun pointed at her, but she knew Gibbs could still kill her in a flash. She regretted not bringing her own gun, thinking her visit to Abby's lab would be going quite differently than it was. "After Abby told me she was an Original, I started digging around into OMNI. A few days later, I found a cell phone sitting on my desk – in my house. When they called, they told me every move I had made the entire day. Then they told me that they have a virus that can track anyone, anywhere. It's worth more than a few lives, Jethro. It could destabilize governments and start wars that will kill hundreds of thousands. It's our job to get it off the market and use it to find them."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "And you believed them enough to let this happen?"
"She's telling the truth," Abby mumbled and looked up at them. "I checked her cell records, and over the last month, her phone has started transmitting more data daily than usual. Mine has too, and so did Riley's up until last night. It's consistent with GPS pings, like when we track a suspect."
"So you're being tracked," Gibbs replied. "What about the rest of us?"
Abby shook her head. "McGee's phone was, but it stopped sometime last week. I think when Riley wiped it, the tracking program went with it. It started up again this weekend but dropped as of last night when the demonstration was over. Everyone else's has been normal."
Gibbs turned back to Shepard. "So what happens now? How do we call OMNI off of Abby?"
Shepard contemplated for a moment, then replied, "I'll contact them to find out why they attempted to kill her. I'll warn them that if anything happens to her, I'll use my pull to throw every agency I can into a full attack on OMNI. They'll know I can do it."
Gibbs looked over and pointed to Abby to get her attention while finally holstering his weapon. "You don't go anywhere alone. Until this is over, one of us will be with you at all times when you're out of the lab. Only our team gets in, no one else. You won't go home, and we'll randomly rotate where you stay each night. Understood?"
Abby breathed bravely and confidently, though not without a sign of fear, then stood up straight and gave Gibbs a salute. "Yes, sir."
"And you," he turned to Shepard with a threatening glint in his eye, "We're not done. Not even close."
NCIS
The drive back tortured Tim as the memory of the sound of Riley's motorcycle engine grew deafeningly loud in his already pounding head. He struggled to open his apartment door because his hands were shaking so much. He couldn't hear Jay bark for being ignored when he stumbled inside and into the kitchen, and he couldn't hear that his front door didn't close all the way. The one thing he could hear was the one thing he needed to hear - Riley's message on his answering machine. He needed to hear that this was a mistake and Riley wasn't actually gone. He needed to hear Riley's voice, and he pushed away all other sounds as he prepared himself to hear that voice once more. He pressed the button on the machine.
"Hey, Tim. I know you're probably working right now so I figured it'd be best to leave the message here."
The vine of guilt ripped into Tim's heart as he was reminded why he wasn't there for Riley. He bent down to the counter with his head in his hands as the message resumed. His eyes and lungs burned as the message continued.
Ziva and Tony silently and hesitantly slipped through the open door. Jay growled for a moment until he recognized Ziva's scent, then went up to her for attention. Ziva pet him for a moment before turning to see Tim bent over the counter with the answering machine still playing. Tony stood behind her as he listened to the message.
"Whatever you decide to do with the book, publishing it with us in it or rewriting it to work with your publisher, I'll be there. I'll be back tomorrow night and I'd really like to spend it with you. I'm gonna ride around the mountain for a while and catch the sunset. I'll call you in the morning and we can talk then. Goodnight, Tim… I love you."
Tim's rapid, shallow breathing was the only thing breaking the silence after the message ended. He hadn't heard anything that convinced him that something was wrong. He pressed the button one more time on the machine as he sunk to the floor. Tony and Ziva slowly entered the kitchen and dropped down to the floor with him while Riley's voice echoed through the apartment again.
"Hey, Tim. I know you're probably working right now so I figured it'd be best to leave the message here."
Tony sat on the floor in the corner against the cabinets and pulled Tim to him. Tim's heart finally shattered, and he broke down into heavy sobs as he clutched at Tony's jacket. Ziva put her arms around Tim and leaned on his shoulder. As the message continued to play, Tony and Ziva exchanged worried and defeated looks.
"I'll call you in the morning and we can talk then. Goodnight, Tim… I love you."
Ziva held Tim tighter as her own tears flowed. She remembered what it felt like to fall in love with someone quickly and to lose them shortly after. Tony put his other arm around Tim, and after a moment he slid his hand down Tim's arm to meet Ziva's hand. Tim shook in their arms, still hyperventilating. Tony fought the lump in his own throat, feeling both the loss of an old friend and the pain radiating from Tim.
Tony quietly whispered, "I'm so sorry, Tim."
Tim brokenly croaked between his sobs, "It's-s-s… my fault."
"It was an accident, it's not your fault," Tony tried to reassure him.
"He was alone… I wasn't there… I wasn't there…" Tim repeated the words over and over again, more to himself than to the other two agents.
Tony cursed silently to himself. He wasn't sure how to help Tim, but he figured getting off the floor and away from the answering machine would be a start. He stroked his thumb over Ziva's hand, and she looked up teary-eyed at him.
He whispered, "We should get him into bed."
She nodded and squeezed Tim gently. "Come on, let's go."
Tim shook his head. "I don't want to go to sleep."
"Then don't sleep," Tony offered. "But you need to rest, and this floor won't help."
Tim sighed and aloofly conceded between sobs, his head becoming too clouded to protest. They slowly rose up from the floor and shuffled together to the bedroom. Ziva helped Tim out of his sports jacket and unbuttoned his shirt while Tony removed his gun and shoes. Tim curled up on the bed without slipping under the covers, but he pulled one of the pillows to his chest and held it tight. Tony left the door cracked slightly open when he and Ziva went back into the living room. Jay whined at them and held his leash in his mouth while his tail wagged.
Ziva tried to smile. "I'll take him out. Tony can you find his food?"
"Sure, and I'll make some coffee and call Gibbs."
Ziva put Jay into his harness and they went outside while Tony poked around the kitchen for the dog food and coffee. After filling Jay's bowl and getting the coffee started, he looked around the apartment. It had been a while since the last time he had seen Tim's apartment, but the only noticeable change was Jay's dog bed by the writing desk. Remembering his questions about Riley, he pulled out his phone and called Gibbs.
"Did he make it?" Gibbs gruffly asked.
"Yeah, we just got him into bed," Tony kept his voice low. "He's blaming himself for it all. What did you find?"
"It wasn't an accident, it was murder."
"Gut?"
"Among other things. One of you stay with McGee, the other get back here. I'll explain later."
Tony's own gut suddenly sank. "Do you think McGee is in danger, too?"
Gibbs considered it for a moment before replying, "Doubtful. If someone was going to use him as leverage, they would've done it before killing Mathis. Stay with him for a few hours and look out for any FBI tails, just in case."
"On it. Are you ok, boss?"
Gibbs was silent, then responded by ending the call.
Tony nodded his head understandingly and poured the coffee as Ziva and Jay returned. He stared at the answering machine and contemplated the message that they heard when they came in. Ziva took one of the mugs of coffee and quietly thought of the situation.
Tony finally muttered, "They were happy again. Only makes this whole thing worse."
She rubbed his arm with her hand. "Are you ok?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. Riley and I hadn't exactly reconnected since he had left, but it still hurts. Honestly though, I think it hurts more because of Tim."
"I didn't know Riley really at all now that I think about it, but I know what Tim is going through."
"How did you get over it?"
Ziva looked up at him. "I haven't yet, at least not fully. After some time, you get to where you can get moving again, but if you truly love someone then you always carry a part of them with you."
Tony looked back at the answering machine. "Do you think he'll keep listening to the message?"
"He might."
"We should probably delete it."
"No, Tony, no," Ziva put her hand on his chest and clutched his jacket. "That's the only way he can hear his voice again. Don't take that away."
"Ziva, he'll drive himself crazy if he keeps playing it over and over again."
"Or maybe it's the only thing that'll get him through this," she reasoned. "If anything, we should make a copy of the message in case he deletes it in anger or guilt and regrets it later."
Tony considered it for a moment, then nodded. He took out his cell phone and started the recorder. He picked up one of the cordless phones, put the earpiece next to the cell's microphone, and started the message through the phone instead of the machine so Tim wouldn't have to relive the message again just yet. When it was over, he played the recording quietly from his cell phone to be sure that it was recorded well. As he listened to Riley's voice again on his own, he slowly felt the lump in his throat return and brought Ziva close for a supportive hug.
NCIS
Special Agent Evelyn Hall tensely packed together the paperwork from a case she just finished. Monday had been a usual workday where she had to pretend that the FBI was her priority to not let on that she was making 10 times her salary through OMNI. She could work OMNI full-time, but she liked having additional value as an FBI agent and didn't see herself needing an exit just yet. The tedium of this Monday, however, was amplified by the absence of communication from her operative in Washington, DC.
Hall tried to be inconspicuous about the fact that she had a second phone in her purse. An advantage to the personality she put on at work was that even if someone saw her using it, they'd just assume she was having an affair or trying to keep her professional and personal life separate. It wasn't untrue as the FBI felt more like her boring professional life and OMNI more like her exciting private life. Today she had been inordinately consumed by the goings on of this private life as she checked and rechecked her cell phone every hour for a message.
'This is wrong,' she thought to herself. 'Sciuto couldn't have defended herself against 0413, he's too good. But if he was still alive, he would've reported in.'
She pondered what would've happened if perhaps he was captured instead of killed, in which case he would've killed himself, which would've left his phone with his captors. It was that possibility that stopped her from sending him a message. By the evening when she was finishing casework, she was anxious to get to her private office and find out what happened. She hurried outside across the parking garage towards her Mercedes, and as she was halfway there her OMNI phone finally rang. She fumbled inside her purse to retrieve the phone and saw the number was that of her operative.
"Finally!" she barked with her southern drawl in full swing. "Where in hell have you been?"
The scrambled yet chilling voice of a woman crackled softly through the phone. "Waiting for you to get out of the office. It took you long enough."
Hall froze in her tracks. She knew something had gone wrong, and now someone else on her operative's phone meant trouble. She looked around to the various security cameras around the lot which she had memorized, wondering which one of them was trained on her. "Who is this?"
"You know something?" the scrambled voice continued nonchalantly. "The thing I hate more than being kept waiting is having someone intrude on my territory."
"Fuck," Hall swore silently to herself. "DC, I presume." She eyed her car wondering what might happen if she got in.
"You can get in your car, Dallas. If I wanted you to blow up, I'd have a lot more fun with it than using a car bomb. Plus, if Zero wanted me to kill you, I'm pretty sure you'd already be dead."
Hall agreed with her logic, but still gingerly used the remote to unlock the car. She held her breath as she turned the key in the ignition, and with no explosion following the starting of the engine she released the breath and connected her phone to the car. DC's scrambled voice pulsed from the speakers.
"This job really makes us all paranoid, doesn't it?"
Hall rolled her eyes and groaned. "If this is your idea of 'playing with your food,' just get it over with, okay? If you want an apology, you're not getting one especially if you killed my asset and the target."
"Well you might change your tune if I tell Zero that your little incursion nearly cost us the bid from three US Agencies. NCIS was kind enough to send me your assassin's body. They saved me the trouble of killing him while protecting their Original."
"How did-" she paused and thought for a moment about how DC found out Sciuto was an Original. She put the car in gear and played naïve while asking, "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on, Dallas, it's just us girls here. You don't risk Zero's wrath if the target isn't an Original. I'm not going to bother threatening you, but you are going to get on the next flight up here and meet me tomorrow at noon at the Dupont Circle. We have a lot to discuss, and I think you'll like the deal I'm going to propose."
Hall huffed. "Why not just tell me?"
"It wouldn't be as much fun." The call clicked to an end.
She looked dubiously at her car radio, then nodded at the parking gate attendant as she left the FBI garage. With DC now knowing where she worked, if not who she was, leaving the FBI started looking much more attractive than it did at the beginning of the day.