Title: Classified
Chapter 5
*****
"Dinozzo. Stop touching everything."
"Sorry, Boss."
Thomas Rothwell turned out to be Admiral Thomas Rothwell, a highly-decorated Naval officer who is attached to the Pentagon. Gibbs and I are standing in his office, waiting to meet the man himself.
"Hey, Gibbs," I say. "Is it true that the Navy makes the coffee here?"
Gibbs glares at me.
Just then, an impressive-looking man walks into the room. "Hello, gentlemen," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Admiral Rothwell."
"Hello, Admiral." Gibbs says. "I'm Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, and this is Special Agent Tony Dinozzo. We're with NCIS."
Admiral Rothwell plasters a smile on his face. "I usually don't get visits from NCIS, Agent Gibbs. What can I do for you?"
"We're investigating the murder of a Marine. Major Allen Pickett."
"Well, I don't know the man. What can I do to help?"
I glance at Gibbs, wondering how up front we're going to be with this guy.
Gibbs licks his lips. "Well, Admiral, we found your number on a notepad at his house."
Pretty up front, apparently.
Rothwell doesn't flinch. "Who'd he work for, Agent Gibbs? Was he somebody's assistant?"
Gibbs smiles slightly. "We're still piecing all that together," he says.
"I have communications with all sorts of officers, Agent Gibbs. Although the name doesn't ring a bell. Perhaps he was trying to set up an appointment between me and his boss." Rothwell smiles pleasantly. "Whoever his boss might be."
"Actually, Admiral," I say. "We found your home number at Major Pickett's house."
"Do people usually call you at home to set up appointments?" Gibbs asks.
Rothwell exhales. "I can't tell you that I know the man, Agent. I'm sorry."
"Do you know why he'd have your home phone number?" I ask.
"No I don't, Agent Dinozzo." He walks toward door. "I do have several appointments, gentlemen. I'm sorry, but I have to end this."
Gibbs nods. "Well, we'll be in touch."
"What do you think, Boss?" I ask as soon as we hit the parking lot.
"I think Rothwell knew exactly who Major Allen Pickett was," he says.
*****
That evening, I pace in front of Gibbs' desk. "Are you about done, Boss?"
Gibbs scowls at me. He points at a chair. "Dinozzo, sit down before I knock you down."
Frowning, I fall into the seat. Our shift was up two hours ago. Kate offered me a ride, but I'm still mad at her about earlier, so I turned it down. Consequently, I'm stuck waiting for Mr. Anal Retentive to get finished with his paperwork. Everyone else in the known universe is at home by now.
After a few minutes, Gibbs places his pen in the pen-holder, and says, "All right. We're done." Standing up, he heads briskly toward the door. Then he turns to me and says, "Well, come on, Dinozzo. I don't want to be here all night."
As we walk through the deserted parking lot to Gibbs' car, I wonder fleetingly if Gibbs would want to grab a bite to eat. I'm starving, because I skipped lunch. I've been surviving all day on the two pieces of toast I had for breakfast and a candy bar I had after we left Admiral Rothwell.
But at that moment, Gibbs pulls his gun. I follow suit, even though I don't see anything.
"All right," he growls. "Get out here where I can see you."
"Or what?" says a familiar voice.
Clayton Webb walks out of the shadows, still wearing the same cocky look on his face that he had when I met him. But somehow, he looks a little more worn than he did earlier. As a matter of fact, he looks downright exhausted.
"Webb," Gibbs says. "Get your ass out here. What the hell are you doing sneaking up on us?"
"He thinks in the middle of a mystery novel, Boss," I say.
"Shut up, Dinozzo," Gibbs says. "Well?"
Webb sighs. "I understand you paid a very damaging visit to Thomas Rothwell today."
"We did," Gibbs says. "Want to tell us what the hell is going on?"
"You shouldn't have gone to see him."
"You weren't telling us anything."
Webb lets out a breath, then he glances behind him, and I think I see him motion toward the shadows. Suddenly, another person emerges, as if from thin air. He's a little younger than Webb and he looks like he's of Mexican descent. He's tall and good looking, if you like that sort of thing.
"Agents Gibbs and Dinozzo," Webb says. "This is Gunnery Sergeant Galindez. He works with me."
"A Marine?" Gibbs asks.
"Semper Fi, Sir," Galindez says, handing Webb a file.
Gibbs almost smiles. "So, does this mean you're ready to trust us, Webb?"
"It's not about trust, Agent." Webb glances furtively behind him, then at Galindez. Finally, he takes a step forward. "I recruited Allen a couple of years ago in Afghanistan. About that time, a friend of a friend approached that friend, and their friend approached me."
It's taking all of my self control not to make a snarky comment.
Webb continues, "They had suspicions that there was a leak in the Agency."
"I'm listening," Gibbs says.
"Well, I had similar suspicions. When I started comparing notes with this mutual friend, I started to see a pattern."
"Okay."
"Well," Webb glances over his shoulder again. "That agent is dead now."
"The friend of a friend of a friend?" I ask.
Gibbs shoots me a look. Then he turns to Webb. "So, how long ago did this agent die?"
"When I was . . . traveling in South America last year." Webb runs his fingers through his hair. "In any case, before she died, she found some . . . interesting information. I had Allen checking into that information."
"Where does Rothwell fit in?" Gibbs asks.
Webb lets out a breath. "I can't be sure. But the other deceased agent? She went to an event at Rothwell's house the evening she was killed."
"What connection does Rothwell have with the Agency?" I ask.
"None specifically."
"You said you suspect a leak in the Agency itself."
"Yes, Agent." He glances at Galindez, then back to me. This guy is so paranoid that if a car backfired, he'd probably have a stroke.
"Webb," Gibbs says. "Do you have a suspect in the Agency?"
"I'm not willing to say right now. But I'd appreciate you not stirring the hornet's nest. No more visits to Rothwell."
"I'm not backing off on my investigation." Gibbs says.
Webb takes a step forward and shoves the file into Gibbs' hands. "I didn't think you would," he grins. "I'm asking you, Agent Gibbs. Proceed with caution." Then, he and Galindez turn to leave.