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SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 6, 2020 9:40 P.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse
Bling sat on the couch, eyes cast down. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. Ringed by the other three at varying distances, he listened to question after question from Tony and Max, quietly answering each in turn.
"Did he say anything else, any reasons?" Tony was standing again, arms folded across his chest, considering the man at the center of the room's attention–but, unnoticed by the others, his eyes flickered up and back toward his cousin before Bling responded.
"No," Bling's voice yet again was measured...patient. "No other explanation, other than what I've already said. He said it was our 'turn...'"
The therapist's breathing was even as he sat, unmoving; his hands were relaxed and still. But his eyes... they remained cast down toward the floor, vaguely focused toward some invisible scene a few feet before him. Bling had made occasional, brief eye contact with him, Tony noted, and with Max...but not with Logan. And while Logan had become silent almost immediately after the first couple questions, his eyes had remained locked on his friend, the look intense, as if he was willing Bling's thoughts to open to him... Logan believed there was more, Tony could see–but he wasn't going to push things, not in front of the group.
Max spoke again. "It wasn't Denny..." A statement offered yet again, as an opening...
"It wasn't Denny."
"But it sounded like him."
Bling nodded, his eyes giving away just how much. "Yes...just like him. I can see why Cal thought it was Denny, even if it was just his voice–let alone what he might have said, if it was anything like what he told me."
"But despite how he sounded, and what he said...you're still sure?" Max pressed. It was old ground, but it was all they had, Max reasoned. Maybe looking at this again...
"It wasn't Denny." Bling repeated, the calm never changing.
"Based only on what you saw, when he died?"
Bling looked back up toward Max. Reminded of the paradox, thoughts clearly engaging again now after having shut down during earlier questioning, he hesitated this time, considering his answer. "That... and..." Bling wavered, and even Tony could see he was weighing his words, "his word choice, the way he spoke...even how he said things..." Bling continued his gaze toward Max, "All subjective, nothing more tangible than that. But..." He broke off, lost in thought for a few moments, then shook his head slightly, as if to himself. "It wasn't Denny."
"Then who?" Tony asked, for what might have been the twentieth time that night. "And why?"
Bling met his gaze, and said yet again, "I'm sorry, Tony–I don't know. I've never known anyone who only sounded like him–and never knew anyone who could have known Denny who could do impressions. And even if I did–I don't know of anyone who would have any reason to...pretend to be him...or to kill the rest of the team."
He did look tired, Tony finally acknowledged–the man had been living with the deaths of his friends for a while now, and with the possible threat on his own life for nearly a week. Now, this call, announcing he was next...The questions they all faced clearly plagued Bling. Tony adjusted his assessment from "too unconcerned" to "well-disciplined," and, remembering what he'd learned from BL Ingrum's profile, reflected that the several years Bling spent in Eastern monasteries probably had even a larger part in that than did the SEAL training. He finally nodded, accepting the man's words. It just left them all squarely where they'd all been, hours ago...
"Look, you guys are all pretty tired–Tony, it's nearly 2:00, your time...and you two" Max turned from Tony to Bling and Logan, "have been at it since early this morning. Nothing else will happen tonight, and maybe we need to let it rest a bit." She heard no objection, so continued, adding for Tony's sake, "I got to sleep in late this morning, and can keep an ear open, just in case–so you guys go get some sleep. If I hear anything at all, I'll wake you..." Max smiled demurely toward Tony. "I have some things to do on the 'net and I don't have a computer at my place yet. I can borrow Logan's now and not worry about running him off while he's working."
Bling and Logan murmured their assent, quietly. They recognized Max's efforts to avoid any further suspicion from Tony and appreciated them. Locked into their own thoughts and anxious for quiet moments to chew over what little information they had, each was keenly aware of what the other was thinking, and were relieved to let Max handle Tony's concerns.
But Tony wasn't ready to let go so soon. He sensed that these three knew a lot more than he did, and wasn't happy about it. He had been a team leader a good while now and did not like his leadership role–as in, being able to demand all the facts at hand–being usurped by civilians, family ties or no. He frowned, pursing his lips in thought, and with a sudden whim, smiled to Max, amiably, "How would you feel about some company, at least for a little while? I want to write up my report and send it in before bed, but some of the places, the local stuff...if you're staying up anyway, maybe I could ask, while I write?"
Max's hesitation was barely a flicker, but was noticed by both the cop who watched her keenly for any such response, and by the man who often studied her every moment, whenever she was near. "Sure," she smiled to Tony, rising gracefully. She tried to keep her look toward Logan hidden from DiNozzo as she offered her silent assurance, seeing his concern. Her look to Bling, however, as she turned to the therapist, was open and heartfelt. "We'll figure it out, Bling, I promise..." Her shrug apologized that they had not done so already.
"I know Max; thanks" Bling smiled up softly to her.
Max nodded and moved toward the computer room, but the men all remained, unmoving. Noting that, Max paused, and turned to see that her efforts to nudge things along had not been entirely successful. The silence around them became increasingly heavy. None of them wanted to make the first move...
Until Logan finally spoke, for the first time in nearly an hour. His eyes were dark and leveled at Bling's. "Bling," his voice was even...studied. "Would you mind, coming back with me, just a moment?"
Tony's head swivelled around to look at his cousin, eyes narrowing at the implication. His investigation was slipping out of his hands and into a civilian's–and no matter who it was, Tony wasn't having it. He'd known from the start Logan suspected that Bling was hiding something, and he wanted in on it as badly as Logan did. "Hey, look, we're all friends here," he tried keeping things light, but nothing was breaking in the case, and the phone call had only increased the tension already plaguing each of them. "Why not let us all in on it too?"
Logan looked up to see understanding in Tony's face as the investigator, disguised as his cousin, easily sniffed Logan's intent. Hating what he had to do, for more reasons than he wanted to consider, Logan played the best hand he had. With a deep breath, he managed to speak, a bitter intensity in his eyes piercing his cousin's as he stared at DiNozzo, unflinching. "Lots of things happen, Tony, when your spine is shot out, beyond just the new ride. " His terse voice was crisp and harsh in the quiet penthouse. "Including an interesting condition referred to as 'pressure sores.' Sitting in place, without moving, can make the skin break down, and the damn things can eat through your skin and muscle, even kill you, just as punishment for sitting on your ass all day." Despite his success in achieving precisely the effect intended, Logan felt his stomach tighten at the expressions now parading across Tony's face, ones growing familiar to him from others, but not yet from his cousin: awkwardness, discomfort...maybe even a bit of disgust. He reminded himself that it was precisely the reaction he sought, and went on, with deadly quiet, "I need Bling to look at one that doesn't seem to be healing as it should. He may need to approve me for some antibiotics..."
The penthouse was silent, Logan's words ringing in the air. Green eyes stared into green, and without speaking, Tony backed down, seeing the shame and anger in his cousin's face, impossible to feign. With a swallow, Tony took a step back, nodded quietly as he dropped his gaze from the one so painful to see...and drew a long breath as he heard, more than saw, Logan snap off the brakes of his wheelchair and move on down the hall toward his bedroom... glancing up, he saw the disappearing back, and watched the silent movement of the therapist as Bling rose to follow him. Turning to look at Max, Tony saw that she too dropped her eyes from his and turned, exuding sadness, to move into the computer room. Now standing alone in the living room, Tony took in the new frustrations with the former, and finally turned to stare out the large windows at the rain, spitting out the syllables of self-rebuke to himself... "Damn it..."
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 6, 2020 10:10 P.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Master Suite
Bling followed Logan into the bathroom, knowing the toll his employer's performance–and the part that was not mere acting–had exacted. "Logan..."
Logan turned toward Bling, with closed eyes and raised hand, cautionary in effect, as he shook his head and with that, foreclosed any discussion of what had come before. After a moment, Cale leaned over the sink to turn on the water, adding to the difficulty the others might have in eavesdropping, hoping it might encourage Bling to talk. With some effort, Logan began speaking, needing to get the first words started before he was able to raise his eyes again to look at his therapist. "What aren't you telling us?"
The green eyes were back now and direct, unavoidable. Bling dropped his gaze again, unable to withstand their scrutiny, knowing any untruth was pointless with this man. "If it was for public consumption, I would have mentioned it by now."
"Damn it, Bling, you know we're not going to let you do anything alone–Tony's got NCIS here for you, Max was trained to handle things like this...let us help." Logan knew suddenly that this was hopeless, that this man was as stubborn as he was himself–and knew if the situation were reversed and he thought he was protecting the others, he'd be just as mum as Bling was now. He reconsidered, and tried again. "No matter what it is he's expecting you to do–we can provide back-up–or I can call Matt for help..."
"It's not like that." Bling still couldn't look at him.
"The hell it's not!" Logan was angry, frustrated by the feeling of helplessness in not able to do something to help his friend–and frightened with the success the killer had already enjoyed with his other prey. "Don't do this, Bling. Don't let him sucker you into making this a one on one contest. You've got us as assets; use us."
Bling's dark eyes finally raised to Logan's, and there was a brief moment of consideration, as if he might be trying to work out a way to do so. But the moment passed, and Bling's look softened into mere gratitude, without more. "If there's a way, I'll let you know."
"Four heads working on it is better than one, to find a way." Logan's voice made it sound like a plea.
"Yeah, you think?" Bling's smile was soft now, having "admitted" his deception and having made his decision, now coming to terms with it. "Look, you don't really have a pressure sore, do you?" At Logan's quick head shake, carrying his frustration at Bling's silence, the therapist nodded sagely. "Get some rest, Logan. I promise you, nothing's going to happen tonight..."
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 6, 2020 10:14 P.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Computer Room
Max had watched as Logan finally turned his frustration on his cousin, then moved toward his room, Bling following silently. Concerned for both Bling and Logan, she went on toward the computer array and sat at the keyboard, thoughts turning on what it all meant. She couldn't help but wonder where this one would leave each of them: Bling, with vigilance and some luck on their parts, alive, the others surviving too; Tony, none the wiser for his intimate look into Logan's life...and into Eyes Only's lair...
...and Logan...? She glanced back at the now empty hall where he'd disappeared, knowing full well the performance was for Tony, to hold him off and throw him off, no pressure sores present... but also knowing the price it exacted, his reliance on such a personally painful admission, knowing it would get the response it did and accepting the humiliation because it was for Bling...
"...I'm sorry..."
Her thoughts were interrupted by Tony's voice close by, moving into the room and nearer to her, and she looked up to see the still-disconcertingly familiar eyes looking troubled...unveiled. She half-smiled and shook her head, waving it away...not speaking...
"I...guess I wasn't thinking; he sort of made me forget just how–involved–his injury could be..."
Max considered him, wondering if such a seasoned investigator would have succumbed so easily if the performance hadn't been from his own cousin, the one he really knew only as an open, innocent child... She decided that given the topic–and the intensity of truth in the shame Logan bore in telling it– he probably would have. She shrugged, and offered, "It's okay. It's hard for him, still, but not so bad, most of the time..." She smiled a little wider, and nudged, "Besides–you should tell him, not me."
Tony nodded, but mulled it over for a moment, making no effort to go. He finally asked, "Which is it? Is he doing okay, as he seemed most of the night...or more like what we just saw? Is he that angry?"
Max wanted to cover for Logan, but the look on Tony's face–probably, she'd realize later, because it looked so similar to Logan's–made her want to help him understand his complicated cousin. She considered what she could say, then said simply. "Yes to each, but ..." She realized that, even for someone trained as she was to be precise, Logan Cale was a complex mixture–maddening, compelling, self-righteous, selfish, selfless, stubborn...too hard on himself for his own good. "He's been through a lot..." She shrugged again, simple explanation impossible as the enormity of what he was...and what he meant to her...started to finally percolate in... "But Bling has been here for him, from the start..."
"...you have been, too..." It wasn't really a question.
An honest answer would have been complicated. She finally settled on "We've...tried to help each other out..." Not sure what she could say, she offered, "Talk with him, Tony–maybe after we find the killer, but talk with him. That will tell you a lot more than I could." Or than I'm able to say, for now...she admitted to herself. "More than anything, what you heard is his worry for Bling–and his frustration that we don't have any answers."
"We're going to find this guy, Max." Tony promised.
"Yeah, I know," she relaxed a little, knowing there was work ahead, but now trusting they could still be a team. "We've got moves..."
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 6, 2020 10:53 P.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Computer Room
Max had worked at the computer, alternately following a few random thoughts to try and get inspiration into the SEAL killer, and following a few random details last left with her by her elusive siblings, to add to her scanty stock of information about their current whereabouts. She wasn't too convinced that either search would pay off, but it gave her something to do while Tony was still up, so he'd think she might actually have work to be done, keeping her up.
He'd brought in his laptop to fill out his report and pulled in a chair to join her, declining to use Logan's computers because of the encryption software NCIS had provided on his laptop. Max wondered if it really afforded more protection than Logan's system boasted, but then, she couldn't exactly let Tony know about that. He'd worked quietly for the most part, asking occasional questions, the answers to half of which, she suspected, he already knew. They'd passed several minutes in silence until, completely unexpectedly, Max's pager went off. She jumped a bit at the sound and grabbed it, seeing Tony's eyebrows go up.
Logan.
She fought the urge to grin at his resourcefulness in getting her attention under Tony's nose, but did allow a chuckle as she invented, "It's Original Cindy–my roommate. She was on a first date tonight and well, you know...we have a code for first nighters, just to be sure the other gets home safely when we're not there–11 PM check in with our number on page means all is well, no problem til next check."
"Smart idea," Tony grinned and went back to his work.
Oh, are you so easy, really? Max wondered, aware that the safety thing would appeal to the former cop. She thought she might have skated on that one, but continued working patiently, knowing she needed to wait until Tony turned in. If Logan hadn't wanted Tony out of this particular loop, he'd just have come out to talk with them both. She doubted he'd be sleeping much, anyway...
It wasn't too long. After fifteen minutes Tony announced that his report was done and sent. He hung around another fifteen, just to poke a bit for information and generally to check out Max. She could feel it; and she knew that Logan's performance had worked on Tony sufficiently that he was still off his game a little. She suspected he'd be past it in the morning but would allow its advantage for the moment. It paid off: the fifteen minutes not too helpful, he excused himself and went on into the guest room. Five minutes later, the shower began...
Max got up and looked up the hall first, noting that the training room was dark now too, Bling stretched along the length of the floor mat they kept for some of Logan's therapy. She didn't believe for an instant he was sleeping, and paused a moment before continuing. With sudden inspiration, she retraced her steps and went on to the kitchen, pulling out a long metal utensil-or-other Logan used in his cooking. Moving silently to the chair where Bling's jacket was draped, she expertly balanced the item, hidden from view, to stay in place only as long as the coat did not move. That small alarm now in place, Max headed back to see Logan and see if he'd learned any more from Bling...
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 6, 2020 11:32 P.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Master Suite
Max knocked gently on the door without speaking, and heard Logan answer, knowing she'd hear even his soft response. Opening the door quietly, Max came in to find Logan sitting up against his headboard and stretched out in bed, his laptop balanced on his thighs. He blinked up at her, tiredly. He did not look as if he'd get to sleep soon.
"Hey–pretty clever, paging me."
He managed a wan smile. "You liked that?" The smile faded a little, the effects of the evening still flickering in his eyes, and he drew a breath, feeling awkward. "Look, Max, what I said, earlier, to get Bling back here...it was over the top, and just...well, I'm sorry you had to hear it..."
Apologizing to me because you had to tell Tony one of the facts of your life now? Logan, I'm sorry it still hurts you to admit you're not Superman... "Well, don't be, it worked...Tony pretty well backed off." Did he have a clue as to how rattled it left his cousin? Max felt herself hoping he didn't...
If he did, he decided not to pursue it with her, but asked, wanting to move away from the embarrassing memory, "Are Tony and Bling asleep?"
"Neither of them are asleep–Bling is faking it, and Tony's just getting out of the shower." She sat beside him on the bed, close, so they could keep their voices low–or so she told herself. Looking at the effects of the evening still flickering in his eyes, she tried, her voice soft and carrying her concern, "What about you? Can you get any sleep?"
His smile was humorless, rueful. "Probably not." He paused, and admitted, "Bling wouldn't tell me a thing."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. You wouldn't either, would you?"
He blinked a bit, surprised that they'd had the same thought. "You don't think I would?"
She rolled her eyes, wondering if she could cajole him into relaxing a little, even in the circumstances. "C'mon, are you kidding? You two are both too stubborn and bull headed to do things right, even when you know better. You think you're protecting everyone, and just go in..." She suddenly realized he might think she was talking about the very first mission they'd discussed, the one that went horribly awry...and she hesitated, trying to shift gears and feeling a wave of guilt, even for the inadvertent implication. Maybe she was affected by all this, too...
But he saw it, and actually relaxed a little, touched that it mattered to her, saying the "right" thing or not. "Well, what matters is Bling," he cast a sideways glance at her, his smile quirking pedantically, hoping she knew not to worry about her words. "And he will try to leave when we're not looking, you know that..."
"I know. I won't let him go, Logan..."
"I know." He smiled, actually letting his eyelids droop a bit, relaxing into his trust that Max would be there as Bling's guardian angel...
"Get some sleep, Logan" she gently lifted the laptop up and away from his form. "Bling even thinks about leaving, I'll set up an alarm so loud the whole building will be up..." She watched as he thought about arguing, but kept still. With a smile, she stood and lifted the heavy comforter back, knowing its weight made shifting a bit more difficult, and waited as he pressed down further under the remaining sheet and blanket, adjusting his legs to help the process. Once he'd scooted further down the bed, sitting closer to the middle now, still propped on arms stretched behind him, Max flipped the comforter up across his lap and in easy reach for when he lay back. "I'll be out there so if you want me–just page me." She leaned to turn off the bedside lamp now out of his reach, her smile still glowing in Logan's mind's eye as she turned to leave his room.
One of these days she'd be in his bedroom without mission or illness or some other excuse and then what would they do? Logan pulled off his glasses and lay back to drop them on the table, with a sigh... For now, Bling would come first for them both, he knew, but that would be resolved...and the dilemma that was Max would remain. Or at least he fervently hoped so...If he wanted her, he marvelled, recalling her last words to him...could she even imagine...?
His hopes were still on his mind as he quickly relaxed into sleep...
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 8:45 A.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Master Suite
When Logan managed to get himself moving and out into the front rooms of his place, he found that he was the last of the group to be up: Max, alone in the kitchen, reported a silent night and quiet morning, having managed coffee and juice for the houseguests awaiting the chef's breakfast. Tony, his biological clock still set earlier than theirs, was up at 5:00 and had gone for a run, had another shower, and was now strolling through the neighborhood, looking for anything that might take his mind off their lack of clues. Bling had been up for a couple hours, took an hour or so in private meditation and a gentle workout, and had just finished a shower himself. As Logan poured a cup of coffee, he appeared in the kitchen.
"You manage to get some sleep?" Bling looked as sanguine as ever, as if nothing was amiss in the world.
Logan nodded. "How about you?"
"Some" he smiled. "Look, I have a couple appointments at the hospital today, 10:30 is the first. Since you're up, let's get your reps in now–maybe before Tony gets back," he goaded.
Logan was immediately suspicious. "If you're going to go in to work–let Max come with you."
He'd expected complaint, and watched Bling's face darken in some consternation, but it passed fairly quickly. Bling shook his head, drew a sigh, and finally threw his hands up. "Sure, why not? You do your reps, and Max comes with me. Deal?"
Logan wasn't completely convinced, but felt a bit better knowing that Max would be bodyguard to the bodyguard–especially since she was so easy to discount as a threat. "Deal. I'll, uh...go change..." He cast a glance up to Max, whose eyes spoke reassurance, and went in to change.
"I'll try not to be a past" she smiled up at Bling, with a shrug. "Maybe just watch your back while you're trying to work..."
"'s okay, Max. If it will make Logan happy..." He trailed, then chuckled, "you know, you've picked up enough about Logan's rehab, we'll just say you're a PT student considering the hospital for an internship." He moved to the workout bench, pulling out the things he'd need for Logan's session. "We'll need to leave by 10:00, though, will you be ready?"
"I don't need all that long" she smirked. "Why, is Sandra one of those primping types?'
"I don't ask–all I know is that whatever she does, it works." He grinned. "Look, this will give me about an hour with Logan. We'll leave at 10:00."
"Okay." she nodded cheerfully, turning to go back toward the kitchen and some apples Logan somehow had managed to find. She saw Logan coming out of his room, dressed for his workout, so waited in the hall as he neared. "He's okay with me going along." Max shrugged, hoping the thought would cheer Logan some. "He'll be fine."
"It's too easy." Logan murmured. "He gave in too soon. Maybe nothing's happening til later." He sighed then looked up to her, realizing he'd been ignoring Max in all this. "How about you–you alright, without getting any sleep?"
"Good to go–I actually got a few hours the night before so I'm good for a while yet." She watched him react to that, with a small, affectionate smile for her. "Did you sleep?"
"Matter of fact, I managed." He actually grinned, thinking that he slept so well because she was close by, keeping an eye on things. The thought warmed him...
"Logan?" Bling's voice called from the other room, interrupting. "I thought we were gonna do this..."
The quirk of Logan's grin almost made him look like a cheeky kid. His eyes never left Max's as he called back, "Aw, mom..." He dropped his voice for her once more. "Max, thanks for being around for all this."
"We're gonna catch this guy, Logan, and Bling will be fine. I promise."
"I know. Thanks." He finally pushed toward the therapy room and Max, still smiling and confident in their chances, went on in search of her apple...
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 9:20 A.M.
Sector 9; Fogle Towers: Cale Penthouse, Workout Room
"Okay, how about some curls? You were saying you wanted to see about getting some more shoulder strength, for basketball. If you take these..."
They had been at the session for over fifteen minutes, some initial ROM of Logan's legs and hips done as a warm up for his upper body work out. Tony had returned and stuck his head in to say hello, but the sight of Bling working Logan's motionless limbs was still too new to Tony for either cousin to accept casually, and Tony moved on without too much delay to the guest room to do his own work.
Bling now waited until Logan sat, then lifted the handweights he held. "Do the curl like this..." He demonstrated, and watched Logan follow along. "See how it works the deltoids, here... Right. Now–do a set of 10 in front, like usual, then 10 of these new ones, then back to the front for 10. Right side, then left; back to the right for the entire set, then left again. Then, we'll see how you feel–see if you want to repeat with the same weight, or want to go up a few pounds."
"Okay" Logan nodded, actually glad to concentrate on the physical work, to forget about the murders for a little while. He watched the weight in his hand as he slowly and smoothly began the series, moving methodically as Bling had shown him, long ago.
"Looks good," Bling encouraged, turning to reach for a towel. The shelf bare, he grumbled. "Left the towels in the dryer again. Be right back."
"'kay." Logan moved the hand weight through the routine, enjoying the feeling it left in his arms and shoulders. He switched to the other side, trying to remember which Bling had said was better to improve strength, lots of reps with less weight, or fewer, with larger weights. Letting his mind go, feeling the growing power in his arms, he heard the shower in the master bath still running, Max enjoying the hot water available to her here. As he finished the sets as ordered, he mused that more with larger must be the key, and half chuckled as he let the weight rest back on the bench. "Okay, Bling," he called...
And it dawned on him...
"Bling?" It was pointless, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. "Bling!" His chair was moved out of the way as it was at times during their workouts, nothing unusual to warn him why it had been this time. "Damn it!" he yelled, grabbing the water bottle at his side and hurling it out of anger, wanting instead to throw the weights, all of them, not believing his gullibility. How could he have been so stupid?
...Bling was gone, and Logan had no way to know what he'd planned...
...TBC...