The rest of the weekend went by much too quickly. Sunday, since it was quite nice out, he and Shannon spent most of their day in the backyard chatting and reading in the lounge chairs. Jethro had just begun reading the book `Into Thin Air' by Jon Krakauer.
He wasn't the only one to pick up a novel for a bit of light reading either. Shannon had just finished the book she'd been reading, starting on `Before We Were Yours,' by Lisa Wingate or something like that.
As for their daughter, Kelly had gone out with Maddie and a mutual friend of theirs for the day. Maddie and Kelly had become quite close again since reconnecting, which was only a good thing in Jethro's mind. It did amuse him, though, just how alike those two girls still were even all these years later. Those two always had been inseparable when they were younger.
After dinner that night, he and Shannon hung out in the basement for a while, chatting away while he did a bit of woodwork, her helping him with some of the sanding.
Monday morning, Jethro started awake, the sound of his cellphone ringing immediately catching his attention. Groggily, he leaned over and grabbed his cell off of the bedside table. Noting that it was only 0540, Jethro answered the cellphone. "Gibbs, we've got multiple fatalities. It's, unfortunately, looking like bioterror. SecNav and the DOD want a media blackout as well, so I can't say much more, but I need you in here now."
"I'll be there," he said, much more alert now. "Have you talked to anyone else?"
"Not yet," the director replied. "I'll leave that to you."
"Alright," he said, "I'll be at the office in a half-an-hour."
Ending the call, he glanced over at Shannon who was now awake and eyeing him with slight concern. She sat up. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes," Jethro quickly assured her, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. He hated having to lie to her, but he was not about to break security protocol and worry her even more if he really didn't need to. "I have to go into work a little early, but it's nothing, Shan."
His wife eyed him, clearly not fooled. "It's bad, isn't it?"
"I don't know yet," he said.
"Please don't lie to me," she said. "I've seen that expression before."
Jethro sighed. "It might be."
She nodded. "Just be careful, Jethro."
"You know I will," he replied, wanting to reassure her as much as possible.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you too," Jethro said earnestly, forcing himself to get out of bed and throw on some clothes so that he could go to work.
Although he wanted to, given how bad the situation he was going to be walking into sounded, Jethro opted to not wake Kelly and just let her sleep. Good intentions aside, though, his daughter heard him as he was heading downstairs.
He was putting on his shoes when Kelly walked in.
"Dad?" she asked a bit sleepily. "Why are you going in so early? Something wrong?"
"No," he said with a small smile, "everything's fine, Kelly."
She eyed him. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "There's nothing for you to be worried about, Princess. I promise."
"Okay," she said, not looking all that convinced as she pulling him in for a quick hug. "See you after work then."
"I might be home quite late," he said, suspecting he might not come home that night at all. "So, keep Mom out of trouble for me. If you don't I'll end up coming home to floral, well, everything."
Kelly chuckled. "Will do, Dad."
Once Jethro was at NCIS headquarters, he met with the director, several high-ranking Army and Naval officers, as well as multiple people from the Naval Medical Research Centre, the Centre for Disease Control, and the National Institute of Health about just what exactly it was that was going on.
Jethro then headed down to the squad room to explain the situation to his team, who were still very much in the dark about everything.
"What's going on, Boss?" his Senior Field Agent immediately asked him once the door to the conference room closed behind them.
McGee looked at him questioningly. "Why are the CDC, NIH, and NMRC here?"
"Last night," he started to explain, "twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around D.C. They were all at the same park after 1400 yesterday. Within ten hours, the first victim died." He glanced down at his watch. "It's now just past 0700 the next day and we have twelve dead." Jethro's gaze then flickered between all of his agents as he continued to speak. "Lung failure and black lesions."
"Anthrax?" McGee suggested.
"Anthrax does not usually kill this fast," Ziva pointed out.
"This strain does," Abby said as she entered the conference room, a small tray in her hand, clearly having heard Ziva's comment a shirt moment before. "My contact at the CDC just confirmed it's Anthrax."
"What are we doing about potential mass targets," Ziva asked without missing a beat. "Airports, malls, trains?"
"There's a media blackout," he informed them simply.
"We're not telling the public?" McGee inquired.
He shook his head. "We'd have a mass exodus. Group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack did."
"Exactly," Ziva said, "and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples."
"Or if they wanted attention and didn't get it," McGee said, "they might attack again. Doesn't the public have the right to know that?"
"If there is another attack," he said, "there's no way we'll be able to keep it quiet." He glanced between all of them. "Our best chance of protecting the public is by stopping whoever's behind this as quickly as we can. Anyway... Our office phones and emails are being monitored to protect the media blackout."
They all nodded.
"What do we know about this strain?" Ziva asked.
"The spores are weaponized," Abby told them, "reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odourless and invisible. Hardly something you could just cook up in your average meth lab."
"The lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours," Ducky told them, "but it's not the lesions that I'm worried about. It's the lungs. We don't know how to combat the toxins once they're inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all."
"The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed," Jethro said. "Abby is working with the CDC on spore analysis. Determining what strain this is could help us figure out who's responsible. Ducky'll be working with the staff at Walter Reed to the same end." They all nodded. "McGee, go to the hospital and interview the victims. Ziva, start on a list of possible suspects... People who'd profit from the attack and anybody with access to weaponized spores." Jethro turned to face his Senior Field Agent. "DiNozzo, the crime scene's already been contained and there's a hazmat team waiting to accompany us both to the scene."
His Senior Field Agent nodded.
Abby grabbed the tray she'd brought in with her and held it out to all of them. There was a bunch of little medicine cups on it. "I brought Cipro," she said. "You all have to take it before you go." She eyed Ducky. "The Duckman and I already took ours."
"We don't know yet if it's effective against this particular strain," Ducky told them, "but it's something, at least."
Picking up a cup, Jethro placed it to his lips and downed the medicine. As he glanced around at his team again, he hoped like hell the Ciprofloxacin was effective.
And with that thought, Jethro left with DiNozzo and made the twenty-minute drive to the Hamilton Recreation Centre.
"What are you telling people about why the park is closed?" Jethro asked as both he and his Senior Field Agent walked up to the head of the hazmat team that had been put in charge of containment earlier.
"Methane buildup in the sewage system," Agent Baylor replied without missing a beat.
"And they believe it?" DiNozzo asked although it wasn't really a question.
"People believe what they want to believe," Jethro pointed out.
"True," Agent Baylor agreed. "Anyway, the hot zone and all surrounding areas have been neutralized. You're both safe here."
He nodded, gesturing for Agent Baylor to leave them.
"High levels tested over there," he pointed out to DiNozzo. "That's probably where the executor released the powder. And there was a prevailing wind out of the northeast yesterday. Airborne spores would've scattered that way, hitting everyone below it."
"This park doesn't really scream 'target' to me," DiNozzo replied, glancing around the park. "Terrorists usually target symbols - White House, Pentagon, World Trade Centre. I mean, it's a nice enough park, but it's not a symbol."
Jethro had to agree with that. "So, maybe it's symbolic for our suspect."
"Personal?" DiNozzo clearified.
He nodded.
"Well," his Senior Field Agent said, "we know that Kaczynski sent bombs to Berkeley where he taught, Michigan where he went to school, and Chicago where he lived."
"And the Amerithrax suspect sent letters to two pro-choice senators whose politics he opposed," Jethro added for good measure. He shook his head slightly. "Come on. Let's head back to the Navy Yard."
Hopefully, the others had managed to find something that would shed some light on this mess. He had a feeling this was going to turn into one hell of a case.
