Chapter 8

3:57 p.m. EDT

Washington

11th Street SE

Carl Long drove his Corvette north just a tad above the speed limit, with Conners riding shotgun and Dorneget, and was surprised at how light traffic was at this time of day.

They had no escort from DC Police nor from the military; Drake didn't want to draw any undue attention to his agents's mission. Long hadn't had time yet to check on local traffic conditions, so he could only guess at the reason there weren't quite as many vehicles on area roads and highways.

Long saw a phone call coming in on his car's audio system and noticed the caller was ID'd as Stewart. He hit the green button to take the secure call.

"Marcus, we're making really good time, better than I thought," Long said.

"I bet people went home early or are staying late," said Julie, whom Long realized would have been patched into the phone call by Marcus. "Any signs of roadblocks ahead?"

"I'm looking at the maps app on my phone and it's all clear headed to the stadium," Conners interjected. "We've seen a few cop cars but that's it."

"We're hearing the real gridlock's gonna come later," Stewart said. "They'll wait till people go home from work. Then the feds are going to shut down the streets to make room for the buses, to take those people to the camps."

"All the more reason for us to get there quick," Long replied.

"For now, keep it cool, keep the guns in the holster Brooke," Stewart said, "and just get eyes on our objective."

"You guys always think I'm going in with 'guns blazing', Julie," Conners said. "I can play nice."

"You do have a trigger finger, Brooke," Julie replied. "We know you can and usually do 'play nice'. We're just emphasizing how important this is."

"We understand loud and clear," Long interjected. "If we get there ahead of you, previous orders still stand?"

"Roger," Stewart said. "Wait for us. If anyone gives you trouble, call us and the Director right then and there. See you there."

"Copy that," Long said as the screen showed the call disconnecting. He pulled up to a red light and tapped a few buttons to get to its Music app. "Player, play Playlist #7."

"Playing Playlist #7," the female AI voice replied, and in moments the sounds of John Coltrane's Alabama piece filled the car. Long was a jazz aficionado who often referred to the legendary musician as 'the Master'.

"You're playing jazz, Carl?", Conners asked.

"What's wrong with jazz?" Long said. "It's Coltrane."

"Nothing. I like Coltrane. But Coltrane on the way to a case? Dwayne Pride doesn't even do that." The Washington team had worked a few cases with the New Orleans field office, led by Special Agent Dwayne Pride, who was a good musician outside of work and all business when on the job. She rode shotgun with him a couple of times and remembered him talking about the case or asking about her team – with the audio player off.

"Coltrane calms me down, helps me focus. It's something I started doing after I finished Agent Afloat duty and started working in Silverdale." Long's NCIS career trajectory took him from Jacksonville to Singapore; the USS Independence; Silverdale, Washington; and, nine years ago, to Washington. "You play music on the way to a case or a crime scene?"

Long had joined the team the same time as Conners, both replacing two agents who were murdered during a case in Miami just two weeks before former director Jenny Shepard's death. He knew her as well as anyone on the team and could almost name the rock artist that would be playing in her car.

"Not that."

"You still into Limp Bizkit?"

"Screw you," Conners cracked, and all three laughed. "Dorny. You got a request?"

"Now you're putting out requests. You're getting a little too comfortable over there," Long joked. "Dorney, you good with the Master?"

"Fine with me."

"What is on your playlist, Dorney?", Long said. "I don't think we've ever gotten the answer to that."

Dorneget ran the tip of his thumb and forefinger across his closed lips. "Silence," he said. "I'm so used to it riding in the truck on the way to a crime scene."

Conners gave Long a 'I told you so' look. "You should've known Dorney liked peace and quiet," she said. "I've known that."

"She blasts every rock act from Led Zeppelin to Disturbed to and from the crime scene," Dorneget added. "Loudly."

"Oh, I know," Long said. "Found that out from Day One. Car windows down, wind blowing fast food wrappers out the cab, 'Leadfoot' speeding faster than light. It's bad enough going to Rock Creek Park. Imagine going to West Virginia."

"I know what that's like, too," Dorneget added, with a smile.

"I think you both ought to be real nice to me," Conners said, dryly. "Or I'll play you Commander Coburn's playlist next time I drive."

"If you do that when you get behind the wheel", Long said, "then I have a request."

"Oh do you, now?" Conners replied.

"Yeah. Don't," Long said, adding a chuckle a moment later.

Traffic to the stadium was better than expected, and the three expected to arrive at RFK on time.

"You think we'll have to park far away?", Dorneget asked. He joined the team in 2011 and quickly overcame his 'nerdy first impression' (as Julie put it) and proved himself as the team's cyber and computer specialist. He also had proven to be a good hand in the field, and found a kindred spirit in Katie Yates (who, like Dorneget, is gay), Conners (who took him in like a younger brother) and Long (his complete opposite in many ways, and a buddy regardless).

"Nope," Conners said. "We're NCIS. We'll get in, one way or the other."

Conners was a free spirit, assigned to the MCRT in June 2008 after two team members were murdered in Miami on a joint operation with the Miami-Dade Police Department's Crime Scene Investigations unit. Conners had since proven to be a solid field agent and loyal to her new team – so loyal she turned down two offers to lead teams of her own. She was also outspoken, and her opinions had gotten her in hot water more than once with those way above her pay grade – like Clayton Jarvis, the former Secretary of the Navy.

The Corvette sped down Independence, past the old National Guard Armory. Long saw the first roadblocks well before he hit the brakes to avoid hitting the National Guard vehicles in the road.

"You NCIS?" the National Guard officer asked after Long rolled down his window. All three agents showed the woman their badges. "Nobody told us not to let you in so…park in the Blue Lot."

As Long drove into the Blue Lot and began looking for the closest spot to the stadium, he noticed eight security cameras and 21 security officers, uniformed or in plain clothes, around him. Conners and Dorneget noticed the same.

"I'm not taking back what I said about getting in," Conners said. "I do wonder if we'll be able to get there without being seen."

"If this level of security's any indication," Dorneget replied, "I don't think a cockroach could sneak in without being seen."

"Then there's no way in hell we sneak in there," Long said. "We go in bold."