Things that night just seemed to get worse. Yes, they had been able to track down the goon who had bribed Dorneget's dentist, an ex-cop name Frederick Fountain who got kicked off the force for taking bribes. However, just as they were about to arrest the man, he was assassinated. Shot in the head. During the autopsy, a swab taken from under the man's fingernails revealed that the ex-cop had been working with a very powerful explosive, RDX, recently. Ducky's autopsy also revealed another damn Watcher Fleet microchip that, judging by the surrounding tissue, had only recently been put in. When the Phantom Eight was involved, it was never good.
After yet another chat with Vincent Maple at Dorado Hills Investments that morning, Jethro called Vance to fill him in on the situation. He headed back to NCIS, briefed his team, and grabbed a cup of coffee before heading down to Abby's lab.
"You should be the one to tell him," he heard Abby tell a clearly stressed-out Dorneget as he walked into the forensic's lab.
"Tell me what?" he asked.
"Uh..." Dorneget stammered. Abby slapped the young field agent on the chest. "Uh… When I… was doing some menial data entry on a report, I noticed that the microchip Dr. Mallard removed from Freddie Fountain's arm contained a private decryption key."
He shot the probie a pointed look.
"You don't know what that is," Dorneget surmised.
"I don't care what that is," he corrected.
"Right," Dorneget said, "Of course. Well, think of it as a regular key, and the call from Dearing to MTAC as a lock that we couldn't open. So..."
"You used the microchip to trace Dearing's call to MTAC," he surmised.
"Exactly," Dorneget confirmed.
All the technobabble irritated him. "Why didn't you just say so?"
"In retrospect," the probie said, "I wish I had."
"We got the number to the cell phone that was used to initiate Dearing's video call," Abby explained, handing him a yellow sticky note. "It's unregistered."
"Yeah," Dorneget added, playing with his hair as he spoke. "Uh, unfortunately, we'll have to wait for Dearing to call again before we can get a location."
Jethro pulled out his cellphone and started dialling the number Abby just gave him.
Dorneget seemed a little embarrassed. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."
Dearing picked up almost immediately. "Hello, Agent Gibbs. I'm impressed. This must mean you found the microchip. Very good."
"I know about your son," he said.
"Yeah?" Dearing asked. "What do you think you know?"
"He was a sailor," he replied. "Proud of his country. I wonder what he would feel about what you're doing now."
"What I'm doing needs to be done," Dearing asserted. "A few must be sacrificed for the cause. The greater good demands it."
"So," he pressed, "what good could come out of this cause?"
"You're paying attention, agent. How's that for a start?" The veteran agent filed that comment away in the back of his mind. "You are all finally paying attention."
"So tell me what you want," he said. "I wanna hear about your cause."
"You've seen the effects," Dearing replied. "The cause will reveal itself soon enough." With that, Dearing ended the phone call.
He turned to Abby, hoping that the phone call with Dearing had been long enough for her to complete the trace.
Abby was grinning widely. "Got it. 54728 Donovan Street."
"54728," Dorneget repeated. "That's the same number from the shipping manifest. It was an address. It's where the equipment's being sent."
"We got Dearing's bomb factory," Abby said happily. As Jethro hurriedly made his way over to the door, she called after him. "Go get him, Gibbs!"
Unfortunately, things weren't that easy. When the team arrived at the storage facility, it was empty apart from a watchman with a duffle bag full of money and instructions for it to be delivered to a local address on M street.
Jethro was stressed but forced himself to focus and make his next move. He had Ziva update Naval Sea Systems Command and had McGee call Director Vance and SecNav. They needed to cancel any Naval exercises that were planned. He and DiNozzo then headed to Interrogation #1 to speak with Ghenna Kozlov.
Back in the squad room, they discussed their next move.
"Just got off the phone with Director Vance," Ziva immediately jumped in to tell him. "He's en route to D.C. Should be landing within the hour."
"He alert the fleet?" he asked.
"Yes," Ziva confirmed. "Navy cancelled all planned war games.
DiNozzo turned to him. "What's our war game, Boss?"
"We are going to let the night watchman deliver the money," he replied simply.
"A sting," DiNozzo said. "I like it."
Jethro and his team set up Palmer's bachelor party for the local address that the duffle bag of money was supposed to be delivered to that evening. Jimmy Palmer was acting hysterically drunk, which was really amusing because Dorneget was just supposed to be giving them shots of apple juice and watered down apple juice at that. Apparently, Palmer got his hands on some actual alcohol.
Jethro did have fun playing quarters though, something he was decidedly quite good at. He'd just smirk at the team's reactions and do it again. And Palmer being drunk enough to call him 'Leroy' was a moment that Jethro never thought he'd live to see.
The bachelor party turned very serious quite quickly, however, when a limo showed up to pick up the money. With Vincent Maple inside.
In interrogation, Ziva confronted Maple with his fake ID, and his one-way plane ticket to Morocco where there was no extradition treaty with the U.S. Maple, unsurprisingly, wanted a deal and spilled his guts with little work.
Maple had apparently been taking money from the VC group and then putting it into a personal account. Dearing knew and let it happen, presumably so he could use it as a decoy when the time came. Dearing was evidently willing to play the long game and willing to sacrifice his own goons. Jethro had a feeling that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.
Not expecting to get much more done that night, he headed home to Arlington to, with any luck, spend some time with his wife.
They were halfway through watching a western film when Jethro's cellphone vibrated. Pulling the cell out and glancing at the screen, it was a little hard to read. He moved closer to the lamp so he could read it easier and instantly felt concerned. It was a text message from an unknown number that simply read, 'CHECK.'
"What is it?" Shannon asked, noting the expression on his face.
"It's from a work suspect," he said gravely. "He wrote his college thesis on chess."
"The guy that's been keeping you so busy the last few days?" she asked.
"That's the one." He glanced up from his phone. "Something must've happened."
He dialled DiNozzo's number, knowing that the Italian-American agent was still at the office waiting on confirmation that the director had safely landed stateside.
His Number Two immediately picked up. "Boss."
"DiNozzo," he pressed, "what's going on?"
"I was just about to call you," the man said. "So you heard?"
Now he was definitely feeling concerned. He placed the call on speakerphone and then replied to the question. "I heard what?"
"Got off the phone with Director Vance's security detail," Ziva jumped in. "He insisted on driving home by himself. But he never made it."
DiNozzo finally got to the point. "He's disappeared, Boss."
"They have no idea where he is," Ziva added grimly.
Well, his gut was right when it told him things were about to get worse. He played with his face for a moment. "Okay, leave his detail and night crew to the search. Go home. Get some rest. Both of ya. We'll all jump in first thing."
He hung up the phone, playing with his face once more. Managing to compose himself, Jethro turned to his wife. "God, what's next?"
She put her arm around him. "You'll figure it out, Tiger. You always do."
He hoped so. Besides being worried about Vance, he was concerned about just how far Dearing was willing to go and how personal the man was willing to make things. Jethro planted a kiss on Shannon's forehead and pulled her in close, needing the contact.
How much worse were things going to get?
