The Spider and the Fly XII
Viv Blackadder watched as Gibbs entered the common work area at NCIS. To an untrained eye, Gibbs gave the appearance of calm nonchalance. But Viv knew better despite her relatively short association with the man. He was upset about something.
She asked. "How was your trip to Langley?"
He dismissed the comment without a word. Instead he motioned to Dinozzo and herself. "Bring up everything you have on Harmon Rabb."
Agent Dinozzo narrowed one eye. "What, everything since the last time we did this which was oh," checking the date on his watch, "about four or five weeks ago?"
"Yes," said Gibbs. Viv grinned to herself. He tended to be very monosyllabic at times. What was going on?
Dinozzo was already on it. Studying the report on his screen, he frowned and looked back up at Gibbs. "There is only one additional entry in his service record since the trial. It says that he has resigned his commission about ten days ago."
Gibbs looked at him. "I know that already. What I don't know is why did he resign his commission and what brought him to Paraguay."
Blackadder said amazed. "Don't tell me. Rabb is the CIA operative who had the little run in with Saddiq Faud and destroyed the stinger missiles?"
"One of three or four operatives, yes. He flew the crop duster that ultimately destroyed them."
Dinozzo looked to Viv, "What did I tell you? Told you it didn't sound like a 'company op'. They don't drop dynamite out of open cockpit planes. That sounds a little too 'uncontrolled' for their tastes."
"Well, it was a company op. Rabb is working for them. And now I am working with Rabb as this case goes forward," said Gibbs. He folded his arms as they both stared at him in disbelief.
#
Mac raised her right hand and rapped on the metal door that led into Harm's apartment. She was hoping he was there. It was disconcerting how little contact she had with him over the last few days.
At JAG, office staff made it their job to know the whereabouts of all senior staff. In the past, Harm and herself would go weeks without so much as a word between them. But there was always someone in the office that knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. She could glance through the blinds and watch him rush to interview a witness. It was reassuring.
But now there was nothing but silence. She had tried to call him but his JAG cell always rang to an answering service. Among other things, she needed to get his new number.
Hearing his steps on the other side of the door, she smiled with relief and anticipation. She worried that he had already left the country without a word to her.
"Hey," he said as he opened the door. In one hand he had the guitar. Guitar again, she mused to herself. She had gone years without seeing him so much as touch the acoustic guitar in the corner of his apartment. Now recently, she had caught him twice playing it. Was there something to be read into that?
"It's late but I wanted to see how you were. Bud and I just returned from Baltimore," she said.
He turned his face away from hers. "How's Webb?"
"Better and better. He is wondering why you haven't dropped by yet."
"Uuhh," said Harm. Damn, busted. "I just haven't had a chance. But I intend to." He answered truthfully. He did intend to see Webb. No matter what happened, he counted Clay as one of his closest friends.
Mac wandered over to the counter. She spied a couple of maritime charts spread over the surface. She peered closer. They were charts of the Chesapeake Bay.
"Taking a sailing trip?" she said.
"Something like that," he lied and gathered up the charts.
She looked at him puzzled. He was hiding something. Perfect lead into the topic that was bothering her most. "So, have you started the little obligation with the CIA yet?"
"Today," he said.
"Are you traveling anywhere?"
He looked at her a moment and smiled. "Nope. This little op will take place right around here. I should be sleeping in my own bed every night."
She smiled back. "That is a relief."
"Am I giving you nightmares again?" he asked.
"Among other things. Last couple of weeks reinforced the idea that there is a dangerous world out there," she said.
He nodded. "Boy, I can agree with that." He paused, and then started again. "Do you remember Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS?"
"Yes."
"I'm working with him on this. A joint operation between NCIS and the CIA."
"Really. Wow. What do you think about that?"
"I'm not sure really. The guy did tried to pin a murder on me after all."
"Yeah, he did. But didn't his testimony turn the tide in the trial?"
"Yeah," Harm narrowed his eyes. "But...."
"Something about the NCIS guys that drives you nuts, right? It is the fact they are civilians. It puts them on a different plane. I mean our investigations are never compromised because we are military, right? I find the concept somewhat insulting," said Mac.
"Gibbs is actually a marine. In the reserve. Gunnery Sergeant. But out of the chain of command as far as NCIS is concerned. Actually, the whole command influence thing is a non-starter. I'm a civilian too. Remember?"
"How could I forget? So, are you two civilians going to be able to get along?"
Harm grinned. "I get along with everyone. Right?"
Mac changed the subject to JAG. She wanted to keep Harm up on what was happening. He was going to return to it, right?
#
Gibbs was sitting on a bar stool next to the counter in the kitchen of Harmon Rabb's apartment. No, make that Harmon Rabb, Jr. Gibbs smiled. No matter what you did with the name, it didn't sound as impressive as Commander Harmon Rabb.
It was 7:15 a.m. and he was waiting as Rabb finished dressing. He wasn't sure what came over him. His prearranged pickup time for Rabb this morning was 7.30. Something had spurred him to be early. Maybe it was the investigator in him that was driven to find out every detail of the people he was involved with.
When he knocked on Rabb's door, he found the ex-commander dressed only in a dark terry robe and a slightly annoyed look. He gestured to the coffee pot and told Gibbs to make himself comfortable.
He grabbed a coffee mug from the counter, his eyes taking in every detail. The loft was immaculately clean and rigorously organized. Even the desk in the corner was squared away. But this didn't surprise Gibbs. He had investigated his share of military personnel over the years. Their training often spilled over into their personal lives.
The lines of the room were sleek and modern. As his gaze wandered, he couldn't help but wonder if Rabb had renovated the space himself. The layout and location of the loft was atypical. This was usually a dead giveaway for a home handy man job. But quality of the workmanship was high and Gibbs gave his grudging approval.
Ahhh. There it was thought Gibbs. He spied a shelving unit adorned with pictures, models and other memorabilia from Rabb's personal life.
He walked slowly over and studied the various artifacts. He could see a much younger Harmon Rabb in a graduation picture from the Naval Academy. No surprise there. The model of an F-14 looked like it had been put there recently as an afterthought. He realized it must have been the one from his office. NCIS had torn his JAG office apart during the investigation.
There was fighter pilot's helmet on the floor with the call sign "Hammer" on it. He spied a black and white picture of another pilot with a little boy and a call sign "Hammer." This must be the MIA father, thought Gibbs.
He looked and saw another framed picture. There were two people in camouflage gear, smiling. A man and a woman. Upon closer inspection, he could see it was Rabb and someone who looked vaguely familiar. Where had he seen that face before? He thought back to the investigation. It was Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. What did they call her again? Mac, he remembered.
He thought again. She had also been in Paraguay on this latest op. In fact, she had been co-opted by the CIA to play Clayton Webb's pregnant wife.
Bingo, he thought. There was the reason Rabb had resigned his commission.
Viv Blackadder watched as Gibbs entered the common work area at NCIS. To an untrained eye, Gibbs gave the appearance of calm nonchalance. But Viv knew better despite her relatively short association with the man. He was upset about something.
She asked. "How was your trip to Langley?"
He dismissed the comment without a word. Instead he motioned to Dinozzo and herself. "Bring up everything you have on Harmon Rabb."
Agent Dinozzo narrowed one eye. "What, everything since the last time we did this which was oh," checking the date on his watch, "about four or five weeks ago?"
"Yes," said Gibbs. Viv grinned to herself. He tended to be very monosyllabic at times. What was going on?
Dinozzo was already on it. Studying the report on his screen, he frowned and looked back up at Gibbs. "There is only one additional entry in his service record since the trial. It says that he has resigned his commission about ten days ago."
Gibbs looked at him. "I know that already. What I don't know is why did he resign his commission and what brought him to Paraguay."
Blackadder said amazed. "Don't tell me. Rabb is the CIA operative who had the little run in with Saddiq Faud and destroyed the stinger missiles?"
"One of three or four operatives, yes. He flew the crop duster that ultimately destroyed them."
Dinozzo looked to Viv, "What did I tell you? Told you it didn't sound like a 'company op'. They don't drop dynamite out of open cockpit planes. That sounds a little too 'uncontrolled' for their tastes."
"Well, it was a company op. Rabb is working for them. And now I am working with Rabb as this case goes forward," said Gibbs. He folded his arms as they both stared at him in disbelief.
#
Mac raised her right hand and rapped on the metal door that led into Harm's apartment. She was hoping he was there. It was disconcerting how little contact she had with him over the last few days.
At JAG, office staff made it their job to know the whereabouts of all senior staff. In the past, Harm and herself would go weeks without so much as a word between them. But there was always someone in the office that knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. She could glance through the blinds and watch him rush to interview a witness. It was reassuring.
But now there was nothing but silence. She had tried to call him but his JAG cell always rang to an answering service. Among other things, she needed to get his new number.
Hearing his steps on the other side of the door, she smiled with relief and anticipation. She worried that he had already left the country without a word to her.
"Hey," he said as he opened the door. In one hand he had the guitar. Guitar again, she mused to herself. She had gone years without seeing him so much as touch the acoustic guitar in the corner of his apartment. Now recently, she had caught him twice playing it. Was there something to be read into that?
"It's late but I wanted to see how you were. Bud and I just returned from Baltimore," she said.
He turned his face away from hers. "How's Webb?"
"Better and better. He is wondering why you haven't dropped by yet."
"Uuhh," said Harm. Damn, busted. "I just haven't had a chance. But I intend to." He answered truthfully. He did intend to see Webb. No matter what happened, he counted Clay as one of his closest friends.
Mac wandered over to the counter. She spied a couple of maritime charts spread over the surface. She peered closer. They were charts of the Chesapeake Bay.
"Taking a sailing trip?" she said.
"Something like that," he lied and gathered up the charts.
She looked at him puzzled. He was hiding something. Perfect lead into the topic that was bothering her most. "So, have you started the little obligation with the CIA yet?"
"Today," he said.
"Are you traveling anywhere?"
He looked at her a moment and smiled. "Nope. This little op will take place right around here. I should be sleeping in my own bed every night."
She smiled back. "That is a relief."
"Am I giving you nightmares again?" he asked.
"Among other things. Last couple of weeks reinforced the idea that there is a dangerous world out there," she said.
He nodded. "Boy, I can agree with that." He paused, and then started again. "Do you remember Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS?"
"Yes."
"I'm working with him on this. A joint operation between NCIS and the CIA."
"Really. Wow. What do you think about that?"
"I'm not sure really. The guy did tried to pin a murder on me after all."
"Yeah, he did. But didn't his testimony turn the tide in the trial?"
"Yeah," Harm narrowed his eyes. "But...."
"Something about the NCIS guys that drives you nuts, right? It is the fact they are civilians. It puts them on a different plane. I mean our investigations are never compromised because we are military, right? I find the concept somewhat insulting," said Mac.
"Gibbs is actually a marine. In the reserve. Gunnery Sergeant. But out of the chain of command as far as NCIS is concerned. Actually, the whole command influence thing is a non-starter. I'm a civilian too. Remember?"
"How could I forget? So, are you two civilians going to be able to get along?"
Harm grinned. "I get along with everyone. Right?"
Mac changed the subject to JAG. She wanted to keep Harm up on what was happening. He was going to return to it, right?
#
Gibbs was sitting on a bar stool next to the counter in the kitchen of Harmon Rabb's apartment. No, make that Harmon Rabb, Jr. Gibbs smiled. No matter what you did with the name, it didn't sound as impressive as Commander Harmon Rabb.
It was 7:15 a.m. and he was waiting as Rabb finished dressing. He wasn't sure what came over him. His prearranged pickup time for Rabb this morning was 7.30. Something had spurred him to be early. Maybe it was the investigator in him that was driven to find out every detail of the people he was involved with.
When he knocked on Rabb's door, he found the ex-commander dressed only in a dark terry robe and a slightly annoyed look. He gestured to the coffee pot and told Gibbs to make himself comfortable.
He grabbed a coffee mug from the counter, his eyes taking in every detail. The loft was immaculately clean and rigorously organized. Even the desk in the corner was squared away. But this didn't surprise Gibbs. He had investigated his share of military personnel over the years. Their training often spilled over into their personal lives.
The lines of the room were sleek and modern. As his gaze wandered, he couldn't help but wonder if Rabb had renovated the space himself. The layout and location of the loft was atypical. This was usually a dead giveaway for a home handy man job. But quality of the workmanship was high and Gibbs gave his grudging approval.
Ahhh. There it was thought Gibbs. He spied a shelving unit adorned with pictures, models and other memorabilia from Rabb's personal life.
He walked slowly over and studied the various artifacts. He could see a much younger Harmon Rabb in a graduation picture from the Naval Academy. No surprise there. The model of an F-14 looked like it had been put there recently as an afterthought. He realized it must have been the one from his office. NCIS had torn his JAG office apart during the investigation.
There was fighter pilot's helmet on the floor with the call sign "Hammer" on it. He spied a black and white picture of another pilot with a little boy and a call sign "Hammer." This must be the MIA father, thought Gibbs.
He looked and saw another framed picture. There were two people in camouflage gear, smiling. A man and a woman. Upon closer inspection, he could see it was Rabb and someone who looked vaguely familiar. Where had he seen that face before? He thought back to the investigation. It was Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. What did they call her again? Mac, he remembered.
He thought again. She had also been in Paraguay on this latest op. In fact, she had been co-opted by the CIA to play Clayton Webb's pregnant wife.
Bingo, he thought. There was the reason Rabb had resigned his commission.
