NCIS
Marquez checked his Glock one last time as his black SUV approached the deal site. He sat in the back while his two bodyguards used the front seats. After the warehouse raid, he decided to start having two bodyguards instead of just one. He wasn't the paranoid type, but he also wasn't normally the type to lose two long-standing OMNI operatives or their data shipments, or to lose an entire warehouse full of goods and people. He wasn't taking any chances with OMNI's next shipment of orders, nor the stockpile of weapons that accompanied it in the crate in the back of the SUV. He didn't like having to go too deep into Ridgeback territory, but they assured him it would be the safest place and much earlier in the morning than police patrols wanted to be there.
The Ridgeback Motorcycle Club was a regular distributor for Marquez's chief exports: drugs and guns. They claimed a few blocks of dilapidated buildings in the DC sprawl and rebuilt their interiors so that they were safe for use but still appeared outwardly grungy. With income from the nightclubs and other businesses wishing to remain discreet, they managed to expand even further. They mostly managed to avoid conflicts with police outside of drunken bar fights, and police did what they could establish a loose presence without triggering an unnecessary armed conflict. In the past, the Ridgebacks' drug shipments from Marquez occasionally included a USB drive hidden inside that only the Club President, a bald, pale, and lanky man who went by the name Cross, and his OMNI operative would find before the drugs were separated for distribution. After losing two drives in shipments to other agents, Marquez wanted to personally ensure that this drive exchanged hands.
Marquez exited the SUV and looked around in the darkness. Cross and two of his guards stood in the rear loading dock of a building in the middle of the block. Marquez knew the man had the brawn for the orders he was being given, but orders were not Cross' favorite thing to receive. The dock held a couple of dumpsters as well as an overhead streetlight casting light down on Cross and his guards. As Marquez looked around, he also spotted a guard on the roof of the building and another across the street by the corner of a parking garage. The guards from both sides were all equipped with either an assault rifle or sub-machine gun.
Marquez approached the dock with his two guards but stopped with plenty of room between the two parties. "Numbers," he ordered.
The guard to Cross' left lowered his weapon and walked to the halfway point between them with Cross. Marquez and the guard to his right did the same. They each brought out their right wrist where their OMNI tattoos were revealed by an ultraviolet flashlight Marquez produced from his pocket. After verifying the designations, even though they already knew each other's faces, they each took steps back to gain comfortable distance.
Marquez continued, "Our friends have lost another shipment of product and data. They want you to make an example of a few people they call Originals." He pulled out a metal-encased flash drive from his pocket. "Your orders, details, suspected locations for the Originals," he gestured behind him to the SUV, "and untraceable weapons and ammunition that won't lead back to you, us, or OMNI."
Cross folded his arms. "I don't think I like this, man. We ain't no hit squad and we don't want that rep'."
"Then you'd better make sure no one's left to spread the word," Marquez snapped. "OMNI's DC Director is getting pissed with the Originals getting in the way, and that's coming down on me. I'll make sure you are pai-"
He was cut off by a resounding shot fired from the guard on the roof. The five remaining guards, as well as Marquez and Cross, raised their weapons and turned to look up at the roof. The sound of the guard's body hitting the roof and hanging over the edge was joined by two small thuds and a snuffed-out cry from the guard across the street as two suppressed shots burst through his abdomen from behind.
"SNIPER!" one of the guards called out.
Marquez turned to look across the street and saw four muzzle flashes out of the darkness from an upper level of the parking garage. The four shots tore through the two guards now on his left before they could fire. The two guards on the right each fired a few shots before the sniper's muzzle quickly flashed again. The two shots met their targets' heads with deadly precision, leaving a red mist in their wake as they exited. Marquez dove for the SUV for protection, but a shot slammed into the left side of his chest next to his heart. The force of the impact knocked him off his feet and onto his back. The pain blinded every sense such that he didn't hear the crunch of two bullets finding Cross' chest and forehead.
Marquez felt his body failing as he struggled to breathe. After what felt like a pained lifetime, Marquez saw the attacker approach. He wore a black motorcycle helmet, black tactical pants, black gloves, and a black leather jacket with blue stripes across the shoulders. He had a rifle strapped to his back, but Marquez could only see the stock and the tip of the rifle's suppressor as the man approached. Marquez tried to lift his arm to aim his sidearm at the man but couldn't muster the strength with the breach high in his chest.
Wordlessly, the assailant pried the pistol from Marquez's hand, then felt around his victim's pockets and fished out the flash drive and a cell phone. He then dragged Marquez by his arm towards the center of the dock. Marquez groaned in pain as he heard the sound of three more bodies being dragged close to his, as well as a shuffling of footsteps, the sound of an approaching car, and the opening of the SUV's doors. His attacker returned to him, tapped a few buttons on Marquez's cellphone, then let it fall onto the ground next to his head.
Marquez heard a voice on the phone, "9-1-1, what is your emergency?" and looked up to see the barrel of his own pistol just before the shot fired.
NCIS
"I don't know what else to tell you, McGee! I've run every test I could!" Abby called exasperatedly from the back of her lab as she started her morning music.
McGee groaned in frustration. It had been two days since he'd dropped off the mysterious package left for him by "Amber," the supposed OMNI agent that enlisted his help. After doing X-rays and various scans of the coffee bag to determine if there were any explosives, they found only a small vial contained in the coffee grounds.
After fishing it out, Abby took one look at the light-yellow-tinted liquid in the vial and disappointedly asked, "Pee? For real?"
For two days, she tested and re-tested the sample to find anything that could explain the level of discretion being employed.
McGee looked back at the screen. "Maybe we could run a comparative DNA test against… I don't know, maybe Manning, or the guy that almost… you know…?"
"Come on, Tim, you know we can't," she scolded. "Even a comparative test could send up a flag for certain results. And you heard what she said – it could get her killed! I won't do it."
"Abby, someone from OMNI almost killed you!" he pleaded. "Are we really going to believe what someone else in there says? This could be helping them."
Abby's face fell to a defensive look. "Don't do that. You know not everyone is there by choice. I mean, look at how you got roped into doing something for them and you aren't even a member. I won't risk it."
McGee instantly felt guilty and he took a step back. "I'm sorry. I guess it still hasn't sunk in – what you went through, I mean. I know you never asked to be mixed up in what OMNI is now."
She nodded and walked slowly towards him, then pulled him into a worried hug. He held her tightly and comfortingly, his mind still buzzing.
"I just don't know what to do," he continued. "I've tried looking into the FBI's files on Riley and his case just isn't in there yet, and so far the OMNI leads have been dead ends. Now that I have something to work with, I feel like we're betraying Riley by not doing more with it, like we're crossing a line and have nothing to show for it."
Abby nodded and stepped back to the computer screen. "I know. I mean, if this is even hers, why not just take a pregnancy test? Even to test your cooperation, she wouldn't need a Mass Spec machine to tell you she's pregnant. She could've given us a useful test, like a case file with half the details redacted and we would've needed to get the rest."
"I don't know. Maybe the sample's not even hers. It could be someone else's and she's covering for them," McGee offered.
"Or…" Abby began and narrowed her eyes pensively. "… Maybe she is isn't expecting the result to be pregnancy but thinks she was drugged. She knew that we worked the Manning case which had that tainted PCP."
McGee shrugged. "I don't know what she's waiting for. I drove by the same intersections twice at the same time of night for the last two days and she hasn't called. I even switched back to my iPhone last night so she would track me and know I was there."
"Back to your old Nokia again?" she asked with a smirk.
"Switched it back this morning. It doesn't have a GPS chip or have location functions like the iPhone, so even if it's being tracked it will only be down to the radius of the nearest cell tower. I got a laptop out of supply, too, so I can do my digging at home without a virus running loose on my network," he stated confidently, but then his mouth pursed with the taste of a painful memory. "I do miss some of the pictures, though."
"It's not the pictures," Abby noted observantly. "It's who was in them. I guess I don't have to ask how you're doing?"
McGee sighed frustratedly, leaned back against the workstation, and rubbed his face with his hands. "Ugh. I think Tony and Ziva have gotten the hint to stop asking me that. I'm not okay, and I'm not sure when I will be. I can't even start to get over Riley's death while I know I'm being watched by the people who killed him. I don't know how you've gone this long looking over your shoulder."
Abby slipped her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's easier looking over my shoulder knowing one of you is behind me. I'm glad the whole team knows what's going on. I think Gibbs knows we all need someone around us right now."
A smile tugged at McGee's lips and he felt a slight warmth inside. "Speaking of which, I think you're at my place tonight. I'll probably sleep on the chair."
She pinched at his side. "Oh, come on. It's not like we've never shared a bed before. Besides, I don't think either of us are in THAT kind of place. The only male I want in my life right now is my sweet baby puppy, Jay."
McGee shook his head and grinned as his phone rang. "Be careful what you wish for. When that 'sweet baby puppy' spreads out, he makes a king-sized bed feel like a baby crib. Mark my words, one of us is gonna wind up in the chair." He checked his phone's ID and flipped it open. "Yeah, Boss?"
"We got a call," Gibbs replied but with a tone more stern than usual.
Abby pressed her ear against the other side of McGee's phone to listen in.
"Go to the armory and get vests for the team, plus Ducky and Palmer. Tell Abby to prep extra evidence kits and bring them up. We leave in 15."
His eyebrows perked up with curiosity, and his glance was joined by a concerned look from Abby.
NCIS
It didn't take McGee more than a few minutes of being driven through the degraded section of the city by Gibbs to understand his alarmed tone. It wasn't the barred storefronts or the dingy look to the streets that set McGee on edge, it was the glares they received from rough-looking characters that appeared to be sizing up the agents as meals. It wasn't their first case in the sprawl, and undoubtedly wouldn't be their last, but as they to the taped-off street of their crime scene they could tell they weren't the only people armed. Tony and Ziva parked behind them in the NCIS Crime Scene Van, followed by Ducky and Palmer in the coroner's van.
The street and the attached buildings were blocked off with police tape and multiple police cars. It took a moment of shuffling around the police cars to let both of their vehicles through; but based on the crime scene and the surrounding area, McGee was grateful for the extra security. Bodies littered the loading dock of the building in the middle of the block, as well as a body on the other side of the street. A black SUV was parked by the dock with its rear door open. Detective Morris from Metro Police was already at the scene waiting for them as they exited their vehicles. McGee remembered him from their case at One Club, the night he met Riley.
"Agent Gibbs," Morris called. "Guess I should get used to sharing cases with you?"
"Let's hope not," Gibbs replied, squinting as the morning sun came over the buildings. "What do we got?"
"Not the worst scene I've seen, but definitely not the easiest," Morris began and led them under the tape through the dock. "Looks like someone crashed a deal with the Ridgebacks Motorcycle Club. A call to 9-1-1 was made from this area, and the first thing the operator heard was a single gunshot. When the cops found the place, they were expecting only one body instead of eight. Everyone's where we found them, but we did check for IDs, which is how we found your guy. This way," he gestured for them to follow.
As they walked through the dock, McGee had an uneasy feeling that he was being watched. He looked around and saw several men who looked like they could be bikers watching angrily from behind the police barricades. They walked to the right side of the loading dock where four of the bodies were laying together in a circle near a dumpster. Each of the bodies had the right sleeve pulled up and their right arms laying by each other in the center of the circle. One of the bodies had a cell phone wrapped in an evidence bag and a .45 caliber shell casing with an evidence tag laying by the victim's head. Morris gestured down to the closer of the bodies, which had two entry wounds on his chest. Ducky began a basic examination while Morris continued.
"Your man, Corporal Jack Halstead. He was still wearing his tags and had his ID in his wallet. Based on clothing, position and lack of Ridgeback tattoos, this guy and the one on the far end look like they were guards for that guy," Morris pointed towards the body to Halsted's left with the close gunshot wound to the head. "We think his street name is-"
"Marquez," Gibbs completed, casting a look aside to McGee. "We've run into him before."
McGee shut his eyes in attempt to shut out the memory of dangling from a warehouse catwalk, then opened them to look back at the body. Blood covered the tattoos on the man's gaunt, shaved head. The bagged cell phone lay on the ground next to his head with its screen dark. McGee wondered if OMNI tracked Marquez and tracked him as punishment for the warehouse raid.
Gibbs glanced briefly at McGee, but then turned back to Morris. "We busted his warehouse a month ago, but I guess he's making a comeback. Think this was a coke deal?"
"Only thing we can think of," Morris shrugged. "The Ridgebacks only get violent about territory, but otherwise they run underground clubs for the grunge crowd. This one here," he pointed towards one of the bikers in a denim cutoff vest, "his name is Cross, the Ridgeback MC's President. We checked the SUV over there and there was nothing in it, so whoever killed these guys also made off with the drugs and whatever money the Ridgebacks had."
Ducky checked his liver probe then looked back up to Gibbs. "I'd put time of death at between 4 and 5 A.M."
Morris nodded and added, "Corresponds with the 9-1-1 call at 4:13."
"And note the position of the bodies, Jethro," Ducky continued. "I doubt the call was made by one of the victims."
Tony grimaced. "Someone wanted the bodies to be found." He sighed, all of them knowing it was going to be a very long day.
"It gets better," Morris quipped with obvious sarcasm and a complete lack of envy. "Killing a Club President and robbing them puts quite a price on your head. You probably noticed some of the guys watching. I'm sure they'll be looking into this themselves, too."
McGee's strained hard to not look over his shoulder at them.
Morris continued, "We canvassed while we were waiting for you, and witnesses nearby heard six or seven gunshots. We found the one shell by Marquez, one by the roof guard, and five shell casings around just those two over there," he pointed towards the two guards on the left side of the dock. "Six men in the dock, one watching the streets from the alley, and one watching over everything from the roof. If there were only six shots, not including Marquez's headshot, and all of them from two guards, then that means this all went down very fast."
"Which means suppressors, multiple shooters, probably pre-meditated," Gibbs completed.
"Which goes against wanting the police to find the scene," Morris added.
"Or they just needed time before the police got here," Tony noted. "Have you found the shooters' positions?"
Morris shook his head. "Not yet, there hasn't been time. So far we've gotten photos of the bodies and the brass. I wasn't even sure you'd want the case with this much work and only one marine."
Gibbs looked around and saw the empty parking garage across the street and the building next to it separated by an alley. "DiNozzo, David, check the garage and alley for possible shooter positions. McGee, photos and sketches of all positions of the scene." He turned to Morris, "Send us anything you have on Marquez."
"Not sure how up-to-date it will be if you've already seen him in the last month, but I'll make sure you get it," Morris replied.
The agents disbursed to perform their tasks. Ducky nodded to Palmer to get gurneys from the coroner's van. Tony and Ziva began walking through the alley around the garage while McGee started his photographs of the bodies around the loading dock. Gibbs stepped forward and kneeled next to Ducky.
Ducky squinted down at the four bodies in front of them. He lowered his voice so only Gibbs could hear him. "What else do you notice about these men?"
Gibbs scanned them and compared. "Right arms exposed, palms and wrists facing up." He looked down at Corporal Halsted's belt and saw a small flashlight clipped to it. He unclipped it and studied it for a moment.
"You don't think…" Ducky began to ask.
Gibbs pointed the flashlight at the ground and clicked it on. A violet light projected on the ground dimly against the sunlight. The looked at each other gravely. Ducky reached for one of the arms, but Gibbs cut him off.
"Not here. Check them in the van where it's private and darker. I want these four to be your priority." He put back the flashlight and stood to leave, but Ducky put a hand on his arm.
"I'm sure I don't have to ask, but you're not making a habit of finding people with a certain kind of tattoo, are you?"
Gibbs looked sternly at him as he grew to understand the real question. "Even if I could, I wouldn't do this. It's a massacre. It wouldn't do anything to help Abby."
Ducky raised an eyebrow. "If helping Abby was the point, I'd agree. But not revenge for someone you-"
"Don't," Gibbs growled. "It wasn't me. I need you to be focused on the case in front of us, not my motives."
Ducky watched worriedly as Gibbs stormed off to the NCIS van. He looked around the dock and back down at the four bodies, heaved a concerned sigh. "I hope I have enough room in Autopsy for eight…"
NCIS
Tony and Ziva walked slowly down the alley across the street from the dock. Tony scanned the outside of the garage while Ziva checked the building across from it. The garage was five levels including the roof, lined with half-walls so each level was partly exposed. The building next to it was a plain-looking L-shaped building that bent around the garage. The walls were coated chipped white paint and had a few boarded windows with bars over them.
"Got something," Tony called. He pointed at the brick half-wall of the garage's 3rd level near the back corner. "Bullet holes."
Ziva walked over and looked up with him. "Looks like about four of them, not very close together but from that distance it's no surprise." She walked around the corner to examine the high walls of the section of the building around the garage. "Found another," she called while taking a picture of the distant bullet hole.
"That makes five shots plus the roof guard's, wherever that went, then the seventh as the close-range headshot."
Tony turned around and started examining the ground. The asphalt was old and poorly maintained. Parts of it were cracked and crumbling as they walked by.
"No shell casings," Tony noted.
Ziva pursed her lips. "Experienced if not professional to be policing their brass."
They walked around the corner to face the dock again where Ziva paused.
"We may have a partial footprint," she noted curiously as she crouched down to the ground.
She focused her camera where the asphalt met the side of the garage. A section of asphalt had disintegrated into gravel and looked like an impression had been made by a boot. She took pictures and placed an evidence marker.
"Got nothing going out this way," Tony called, closely examining the ground. "Think that could be one of the shooters' positions?"
She looked at him but didn't seem convinced. "Maybe. It's fairly close to where that guard was, though," she pointed at the covered body in front of the alley.
They finished their search of the alley, then made their way up to the 3rd floor of the garage. The garage didn't appear to be monitored by any cameras or have any protective measures other than a half-threatening sign with the name of a towing company for unauthorized cars. Like the surrounding buildings, the garage seemed dilapidated. The numbers painted on the ground for the individual spots were half-faded, and a smell of stale urine lingered in the air. Tony tried holding his breath as they went up the stairs to the 3rd floor. He took pictures of the bullet holes in the brick and concrete while Ziva checked for other evidence. There weren't many parked cars in that garage, but she looked under just to be safe. Against the wall she found a single brass shell casing on the ground and picked it up with a pair of tweezers, but as she looked out from the position she frowned.
"Tony, looks like they missed one."
"Just one?"
"Yes," she held up the brass. "5.56mm, looks like it came from an assault rifle rather than a standard bolt-action sniper."
"That would explain why everyone was killed so fast," he noted, looking down at the bodies below.
"Still, could someone get that kind of accuracy from up here? Come here. Stand like this." She positioned him facing the crime scene. "What do you see?"
Tony down towards the scene. "I see the dock."
"Right, but look. Even over here," she leaned slightly over the half-wall, "I can't quite see the two bodies on the right because of that corner wall, and…" she tried to balance herself on the wall with an invisible sniper rifle in her arms.
Seeing her inching too close to the edge, Tony quickly grabbed one of her arms to stabilize her.
She nodded gratefully. "Thanks. But see what I mean? This is too awkward of an angle for a sniper to have gotten everyone from here."
"Right, there would've been multiple shooters."
"They would've had to be…" she looked around at the building around the garage and found a few possible locations. She then started looking down at the position of the bullet holes on the wall and her face scrunched as she calculated.
Tony cocked his head to the side. "What are you thinking, Ziva?"
She looked over the edge of the wall, then came back with the look of an idea. "What if we're looking in the wrong place? What if the shooter wasn't in the garage, but hanging outside it? That would get them around the columns and the walls and give them a much wider angle."
"'Shooter?' Like one shooter?" Tony asked incredulously. "No offense, Ziva, but I'm not even sure you could pull this one off solo."
She frowned as she looked up at the bullet holes. "Look at the grouping of the shots, Tony. The bikers down there were shooting at one spot up here and no one on the ground."
"Let's check upstairs for any gear or marks," he suggested. "That'll tell us more."
"Speaking of gear," Ziva began as they walked. "Did Abby leave anything at your place last night?"
Tony chuckled. "Two CD's and a pair of boots. How'd you know?"
Ziva smiled. "Just guessing. She left a pair of pajama pants and a pillow at my apartment when she stayed. The way she left them, I'm sure it was on purpose. I think she wants something familiar to go back to."
Tony grunted. "I can't believe Shepard did that. Abby was almost killed, and we have no idea when this will be over. How long do you think Abby will be okay bouncing around between houses? It's like she's in the middle of a four-way custody battle that I guarantee will last longer than the next two weeks."
"She's tougher than you think," Ziva smirked. "She camped out in the woods for two nights on the run with an OMNI assassin chasing her. I think she can handle a month or two of sleeping on couches."
When they reached the wall of the 4th level, they found an empty parking space at the far corner of the lot near where the shell casing was found below. As they examined the area closer, Ziva found a long white mark where the top of concrete half-wall had been rubbed by something in a straight line over to the outside.
"Tony, this is it," she called to him before taking a few pictures of the evidence. "One of the shooters must've used some kind of climbing rope tied it to a car or truck to hold their weight, then hung over the side of the garage to get the view of the whole scene." Ziva looked across to the building next to them and around the alley. "No lights that I can see, so they would've been nearly invisible. Only one set of rope tracks means one shooter outside."
Tony looked closer at the marks on the concrete and in the powder could just barely make out a footprint. He quickly snapped a few pictures with a one-to-one scale, then looked around the rest of the garage. His eyes rested on the corner wall closest to the dock. "One could've been up here taking out the left side while the other hanging over the wall got the rest. Plus, multiple hands would make picking up casings and robbing the meetup much easier. The one casing we found must've bounced off of something like the outside shooter's shoe or leg and dropped into the 3rd floor."
Ziva nodded as they started walking down the garage. "And if it was pre-meditated as Gibbs said, then it's more likely they had help. The muzzle flashes being close together may have given the appearance of one sniper. The only other thing would be the accuracy of the rifles. You would need to modify them to get that kind of range with precision, and have the right people using them."
Tony squinted at the ground as they approached the corner leading down to the 2nd floor. "And the right people driving, the kind that don't leave tracks," he added smartly as he zoomed in on a tire skid mark from a vehicle rounding the garage corner too fast. "Guess they didn't pre-meditate enough."
NCIS
Gibbs huffed tensely as he began cataloguing the SUV. Usually, vehicles that were part of crime scenes were examined at the Evidence Garage, but after Ducky all but accusing him of murder and with the other agents working the rest of the scene, the SUV was his best chance to be alone. He pondered over the last few days while he took fiber samples from the seats. He knew he crossed the line once before to kill his late wife's killer, and nearly crossed it again by putting a gun to the Director's chest. But Ducky should've known better than to think he'd kill eight people over Riley's death. As far as he thought Ducky knew, Riley was just a good agent to Gibbs. He wouldn't have been upset if Ducky suspected his true feelings for Riley. Ducky noticed everything. And if Abby knew, then it wasn't a far stretch for Ducky to know, too. The problem was having it used against him. He snapped himself out of his thoughts when he realized he had used 5 sets of adhesive tape to get fibers from the same spot over and over again.
He moved to the rear of the SUV and the open rear door. He first noticed a burlap cover bunched up to the left and two parallel lines of paint scraped off the top of the bumper, likely by something big being loaded in or out of the back. He first took swaps to check for blood, but when nothing appeared he continued collecting samples.
Gibbs had seen the other day that Ducky seemed shaken by the sudden appearance of a body. He wondered if his tired or angered state that morning might've scared Ducky, or if going from the idea of arresting Shepard to suddenly working with her might've confused the man. Part of him wondered if Shepard asked Ducky to keep an eye on him after he put a gun to her chest, though Ducky wouldn't try to upset Gibbs at a crime scene. He decided to try to push it from his mind so he could focus. He and Ducky could make up later as they usually did, but the crime scene at hand needed his attention.
In the carpeting he noticed a small splinter of wood, likely from a wooden crate. He took a close-up photo and then collected it with tweezers. When he pulled at the burlap cover to bundle it into an evidence bag, he found a small instant film photograph hidden underneath. He raised an eyebrow as he took a picture of it and took a closer look. The photograph showed an open wooden crate filled with various weapons in the back of the same SUV with the burlap cover tossed to the side. With the number of guns and explosives he saw just on the top layer of the crate, he was sure that it was a weapons deal and not drugs as Morris believed.
He looked closer at the photo to see if he could find anyone or any signs of when the photo was taken, but the flash had blackened out the windows and the digital clock on the radio was too far away and out of focus. He turned the photo over and his eyes widened when he saw OMNI's standby symbol drawn in black marker on the back. Thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at it and out to the rest of the scene. He didn't even register McGee walking up to him.
"Boss," McGee called to him even though Gibbs wasn't listening, "I've examined all the bullet wounds and tracked the final positions of the bullet holes. Whoever the shooters are, they didn't miss a single shot. I've got all the bullets that were through-and-throughs, but Ducky will need to get the rest out in Autopsy. Tony and Ziva are casting molds of the shoe prints they found now." He waited for a response. "Boss?"
Gibbs broke out of his trance and looked at McGee, then back down to the symbol on the back of the photo. "Did Riley ever tell you about OMNI leaving anything behind? Any kind of calling card or signature with their victims?"
McGee thought back across their few conversations about OMNI. "No, not with their victims. He only talked about software having a signature in it, but anything outside of that was just the UV tattoos. Otherwise, they keep hidden. Why?"
Gibbs showed McGee the back of the photo and handed it to him before turning to examine the rest of the cargo area. McGee's heart raced when he saw the OMNI symbol coupled with a large stockpile of weapons. He quickly looked up and around to make sure none of the observers on the other side of the police tape had seen the photograph in his hands.
"Gibbs, this… none of this makes sense. If this weapons deal had OMNI agents on both sides, why would OMNI attack them?"
Gibbs looked back at him with an unsure frown. "I don't think they did."
McGee's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. In a whisper he asked, "The Originals? They're fighting back?"
Gibbs shrugged and nodded to the photo. "Don't know, but whoever it is certainly isn't on OMNI's side. Take all the evidence we've gotten so far and escort Ducky and Palmer back. Get Abby processing the photo and DNA first."
"On it, Boss!" McGee called, breaking into a sprint and biting his lip to avoid grinning.
NCIS
Gibbs paused on the last step before rounding the corner to the morgue. He wasn't sure if Ducky had enough time to process all eight bodies yet, and while interrupting was never an issue, after their earlier exchange he didn't want to speak to Ducky unless he had to. After spending hours collecting evidence from the shootout, the rest of the team was occupied researching Halsted and Marquez while Abby was up to her neck in evidence processing. Knowing he needed to see Ducky at some point, Gibbs decided to make it sooner rather than later. He stepped forward and let the morgue doors slide open.
"Your stitchwork is getting better, Mr. Palmer," Ducky complimented as they stood over a body.
"Thanks, Ducky," Palmer grinned before looking up. "Hi Gibbs, we're just finishing up number seven."
Ducky reluctantly turned around. "Ah, yes, we have some analyses for you, Jethro. Jimmy, would you mind getting me some tea?"
Palmer removed his gloves and wiped his brow with a satisfied sigh. "Sure thing. I could use a break."
Gibbs waited until Palmer had left before asking, "What do you got?"
"An apology," Ducky admitted. "I'm sorry I accused you. I should never have suspected that you'd do this. This was murder, not defense."
Gibbs half-smiled and nodded it away. "I didn't exactly make it easy. I came close to crossing that line, but it's not what either of them would've wanted." Gibbs wanted to smile at how easy it was to communicate a lot to Ducky with only a few vague terms.
Ducky nodded understandingly and patted Gibbs' shoulder supportively before gesturing to one of the three bodies on the Autopsy tables. "I wanted you to see something."
He switched on the overhead light illuminating the body, showing a completed Y-incision that had been sown up. The victim's deathly pallor undermined the muscular build, squared jaw, and tousled brown hair of the victim that all had been made to tout his appearance. Gibbs squinted at first to adjust to the reflection of the light.
"Our marine, Corporal Halsted, was one of four of our victims to have the same pattern in their wounds," Ducky began and pointed to the wound on the chest and forehead. "Both shots were lethal, through the heart and through the brain. Yet across four bodies are barely under an inch in variance across each of the four victims – Halsted, the motorcycle club leader Cross, the man to his left, and the man on the roof. However," he turned to the middle table to the body who was on its side, "the young man guarding the alley had two shots through his chest and abdomen, the same distance apart as the others. Based on the position of his body, I think he lunged forward as the two shots were fired, otherwise he would've been struck through the head and heart like the others. The two that had fired their weapons had only shots through their foreheads as well, but," he turned back to Halsted's body and pointed to the head wound an inch above and to the right of the forehead's center, "through the same spot. Jethro, this type of consistency is astounding."
Gibbs nodded. "Our shooters have military sniper training, then."
"And were likely trained together in order to have the same pattern," Ducky added. "The only deviant from this pattern is our old friend, Mr. Marquez." He waved Gibbs over to the third table where the thin, gaunt man they'd hunted once before now lay dead with shots in his chest and head. "I pulled the same type of bullet from his chest as the others, a 5.56. Though unlike the others, this one hit three inches to the right of his heart. If treated soon enough, it wouldn't have been fatal. The fatal shot to the head was then made with a .45 caliber pistol and only after he had been dragged into position with the other bodies. Now the question is – why the discrepancy?"
"Information," Gibbs answered. "The OMNI agents we've run across usually carried a flash drive. If Marquez was dealing weapons to the Ridgebacks, he was probably giving them instructions for who to use them on. We didn't find one on his body, so the shooters must've taken it before killing him. Then they executed him as part of the message to OMNI."
Ducky nodded in agreement and walked over to the desk table where four dark photos showed glowing UV tattoos, each with different numbers. "I keep thinking of the old proverb, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' I stand by what I said: this was murder, not defense. Even if these Originals who killed these men are our friends, it'll be very difficult to defend what they've done here."
Gibbs raised his eyebrows undecidedly. "We don't know everything yet, but it won't be my job to defend OMNI or the Originals. The only ones I'm defending are my team. That includes you."
Ducky smiled warmly as Gibbs turned and walked back upstairs.