Chapter 7

3:56 p.m.

Washington

Navy Yard, Multiple Threat Assessment Centre

Carl Long quietly entered the large theater-like room that made up MTAC and found his way to the front row of the theater-style seats in the back of the room.

"How's the movie?", he quipped as he sat down next to his teammates, Special Agents Brooke Conners and Ned Dorneget.

"Show's getting started. Would've brought popcorn, but the muckety-mucks on the screen frown on that," replied Conners. Athletic and smart, Conners turned down several opportunities to leave the Washington team. She had a snarky sense of humor and used it on occasion to lighten the mood or throw off an opponent, and sometimes Long couldn't tell if she was serious or a smartaleck.

"The 'muckety-mucks' hate popcorn," said Dorneget. "I'm pretty sure they don't like anything."

"They like peace and quiet from the audience when they're performing," Long replied. "Either of you hear anything new about what's going on?"

"They're figuring it out as they go," Conners said. "Scuttlebutt is Luthor knew all along."

"How weird is it that a reformed supervillain turned President would be the only one who would know?", Dorneget asked.

"He is the President and the guy who helped get a lot of the super bad guys off the street," Long said. "Including the Joker."

"I don't care if he pulled the trigger himself," Conners replied. "We all should've known about this weeks ago. The level of planning I heard about…you can't do that on the fly. That takes weeks, months of advance notice to have a chance of getting things right."

Long was about to answer when he saw Maurice Drake, the Director of NCIS, turn around and put his forefinger to his lips, signaling the three agents to stop talking. Long nodded, while Conners gave the director a big thumbs-up with a smile.

Drake chuckled, then turned to face the large theater-sized screen in the large room that made up MTAC and was spacious enough to serve as a small movie theater in its own right. The 30-foot, 8K screen that dominated the front wall was large and clear enough for those sitting in the back theater-style seats – including the three agents on the front row – a superb view by most standards. It wasn't as fancy as the 16K, holographic screens installed in the White House, the Capital building and the Pentagon, but it met Drake's standards well enough. The side walls featured several computer terminal stations manned by technicians, and a dozen 55-inch 8K video screens above the terminals. Some screens showed civilian news coverage, others showed drone footage or a Mercator-style map showing the position of US Navy ships around the world.

The director stood by as a map of Washington appeared on the main screen, followed by four smaller screens in each corner showing, clockwise from the upper left, NCIS Assistant Deputy Director Michael Larkin from the NCIS office in Quantico, Virginia; Louis Ochoa, the Assistant Director for Atlantic Operations from the Office of Special Projects in Miami, Florida; Shay Mosley, the OSP Assistant Director for Pacific Operations from her new office in Los Angeles; and the Department of Extranormal Operations' director known only as Mr. Bones, who literally looked like a skeleton wearing a suit.

"Where's Hetty?", Conners whispered.

"I called L.A. after we got the news about Granger," Dorneget whispered back. "Nobody's talking."

"Callen's always run a tight ship, just like Torres," Long whispered. "I don't know Mosley or Ochoa. Larkin we know."

"We know Bones, too," Conners said. "God, what a creep."

"I didn't know a skull could smile," Dorneget replied. "Or that a skeleton could smoke."

"That makes the creepiness worse," Conners said. "I'm glad we don't have to deal with him."

"Chase likes him well enough," Dorneget said.

"Her and her team's job is dealing with weird shit," Conners said. "I'm glad we—"

She shut up when Drake turned and gave her a 'simmer down' look. "Show's starting," Long commented.

Drake turned to the screen. "I take it you've all read the notes?", he said. All four nodded or spoke their assent.

"This line is as secure as it gets, folks. Our intel confirms they are at the stadium."

They? Long thought. Who are they? He glanced at Conners and Dorneget, both of whom shrugged.

"My previous decision stands, regardless of what SecDef or SecNav say," Drake said. "Opinions?"

"You're taking a big risk, sir," Mosley said. "Crawford will not be happy, and I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't speak for the record and state that the director of a federal agency going against his superiors is highly irregular, to say the least."

"Your objection is noted," Drake said. "The fact is, our people are—"

"Are they your people, Director?" Mosley asked. "They're another director's people—"

"Call it intra-agency cooperation, then," Drake replied. "I'm sure Mr. McCallister – wherever he is – would appreciate the gesture and would do the same for us. Just like we did for Director Vance from Earth-Prime and Director McGee from Earth-2. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I might take a different approach, sir," Mosley replied. "That is why you assigned me to oversee Office of Special Projects West and run Pacific Operations. To bring a certain team in line."

"You are assigned to run the L.A. office and to make sure the agents there had the necessary resources to do their jobs, Ms. Mosley," Drake said. "Including any and all issues related to this event that Agent Callen's team may run into. Mr. Ochoa?"

"Without specific orders to stay out, sir, I'd have to agree with your tactics," Ochoa said. "I only wish I could bring my team up there to assist."

"They have their hands full getting Agents Torres and Tuturro out of Corto Maltese. Walker from the Agency will help. I've got that REACT team you asked for heading that way from Puerto Rico."

"I appreciate it," Ochoa said. His Office of Special Projects team was in the small island nation to eliminate a drug ring that used US Navy ships in the Caribbean to run Thanagarian stimulants into the United States. Two of the team's members – Special Agent in Charge Nick Torres and Special Agent Johnny Tuturro – were captured by the military officers running the ring. The rest of the team, led by Senior Field Agent Paul Briggs, were trying to get their teammates out alive. "Any chance of getting Charlie back?"

"No chance," Drake said of 'Charlie', a.k.a. NCIS Special Agent Tammy Gregorio, currently assigned to the New Orleans field office. "They're busy on an op."

"Worth asking," Ochoa said. "With your permission, I'll log off now and contact you the moment there's movement in Corto Maltese."

"Hopefully that won't be too much longer," Drake said as Ochoa's inset screen disappeared from the main screen. "Mr. Larkin, you have a REACT team ready for me if it comes to it?"

"If it comes to it, Director, though I'm confident your people can handle whatever they face there – if it's just FEMA security there," replied Larkin, a former New York City assistant police chief who was Assistant Director in charge of NCIS's REACT – Regional Enforcement Action and Capabilities Training – special forces teams. "If security is what I think it is, Director, I honestly don't think a REACT team would be enough."

"Speak up," Drake replied. He used that term whenever he wanted someone to get to the point.

"If POTUS is overseeing these camps, and wanted to keep anyone who came through in those camps, he has to have some form of heightened security in place. Security against supervillains, criminal gangs-"

"Wayward federal agencies?" Drake replied.

"I didn't say that, sir," Larkin replied, with a curt smile. "I'm thinking more to keep a stadium of people in – and that's going to take some heavy-duty, military-grade security. If that's the case – and you have to assume POTUS has something in place – you might need to call in more firepower."

"You're not talking about the Marines, either, are you Michael?", Mosley asked.

"I'm thinking of a certain man with a red cape who is, ah, more likely to believe Director Drake over the Commander in Chief," Larkin said.

"I know and assume the risks," Drake said. "Remember, no one – Luthor, Crawford, Sarah Porter – has told us not to undertake this operation."

"And what if they do?" Mosley said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Drake said. "I want to review the non-NCIS part of our joint operation while Mr. Bones is here with us. Bones, any word from your people in RFK over the last 30 minutes?"

"I think Mr. Larkin is onto something, Maurice. They're probably dressed in FEMA garb. And I concur with his assessment of the security forces on the ground. That's consistent with what my agent there has to say."

"You have someone there, Bones?", Drake said.

"So do you. He got 'drafted', just like your person there did."

Drake winced. He had wanted to keep Katie Yates' involvement within the agency. But if someone from the DEO's Major Case Response Team was at RFK, it made sense he or she would've tried to find friendlies.

"I know. Got the same advance notice you did. Just enough time to have a bug hidden on her person that bogeys and hostiles can't easily uncover. That's how I found out about them."

"That's one hell of a mission you're sending your team on," Bones said.

"They're trained for it," he replied, glancing back at the three agents who were trying to figure out who it was they'd be sent to recover. "It'd be great if your people would come along."

"I agree, but they're on a case I can't talk about for reasons of national security," Bones replied. Drake knew that could indeed be the case, or just as easily be the DEO director's way of saying what we're doing is none of your business. "As I said, though, I do have an agent there and he's at your service."

"Thank you for that, Director. You mind telling me who it is?"

"Can't divulge that, Director. You'll find out soon enough."

Drake sighed. He can be the most irritating bastard sometimes to work with. "I appreciate any help I can get, and I'll be in touch. Once again, thanks for the help."

"You're welcome, and I know when we need help you'll do the same." Bones disconnected, and the square showing his image switched to a shot of the NCIS seal.

"Mr. Larkin, Ms. Mosley, I appreciate your time today. Got some business here to take care of, but I'll be in touch soon." He turned to one of the technicians and gave the 'cut' sign with his hand, signaling the tech to cut Mosley and Larkin's feed.

Drake turned to the back as the large screen showed the Mercator map, and walked back to the three agents. "We need to meet and going to my office would waste time, so we're doing this here," Drake said. "Questions?"

"One," Conners said. "Who are 'they'?"

Drake explained who 'they' were and gave his agents a moment to digest the news. But only a moment.

"Marcus and Julie are on their way to the stadium. You three go meet them, and bring our people back here," Drake said, in the no-nonsense tone he used when he wanted something done.