Instead of heading home straight away, he decided to swing by his daughter's home in Alexandria. He vaguely explained the situation as best as he could to her before going home and doing the same with his wife.

Little after midnight, DiNozzo stopped by to give Jethro a bit of an update on what they now knew about the explosion at the hotel. Intel that came from the D.O.D; McGee's girlfriend Delilah Fielding specifically. Apparently, more than one source of intel said that the device used wasn't Middle Eastern. That it was American. Unfortunately, they didn't know if it was a single individual or group. Regardless, that seemed to confirm what they already suspected. It was looking more and more like it was connected to the McBride case and made it even more important that Jethro went to Iran.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, but waking up, he quickly showered, threw on some grey sweatpants, a white crew-neck t-shirt, and a light grey pullover.

He then made his way downstairs and had breakfast with his wife who didn't have too long before she needed to head to work herself.

When it finally came time for her to leave, she pulled him in for a deep kiss. The smell of her shampoo flooded his nostrils. God, I hate goodbyes.

When they finally parted, he smiled affectionately at her. "We've said it all before."

She smiled a bit sadly. "I wanna hear it again."

"I will take care," he assured her. "I will come back safe."

She smiled wryly. "Not those words."

"I love you," he said before placing his lips to hers.

They dragged out the goodbye as long as they could, but eventually, his wife was going to be late for work if she didn't leave. So, Shannon hopped into her car and drove off, neither one of them knowing when they'd see each other again. How lucky I am to have something which makes saying goodbye so hard.

Jethro hoped he'd actually be able to keep his promise. He had a bad feeling about all of this still and suspected that Vance felt the same.

Heading inside, he poured himself a coffee and went to grab some clothes out of the dryer so he could pack for his trip.

He was about halfway done packing his bag when Vance walked in. He turned towards the man and gave him a small smile. "Hey." He then resumed packing his bag as the man walked up.

"I was on my way to work," Vance said, "thought I'd stop by before you left."

He shot the man a knowing look. "You don't drive this way to work, Leon."

"President said he'd be calling Clayton's wife this morning," Vance explained. Well, part of it, at least. Jethro suspected there was more to it. "I wanted to get there first."

He took a breath, eyeing his bag. "Jarvis did the job proud."

"He was a good boss," Vance said. "Better friend." The man swallowed. "Gibbs, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

We've all been there. "Drive to school, Leon. Go hug your kids."

"I'm concerned about your trip," the other man finally admitted. "After what happened to SecNav, I'm tempted to ground you."

Jethro didn't miss a beat. "After what happened to SecNav, how can I stay?"

The director nodded curtly. "Captain Wayne's informant knows you're coming. There's a C-130 fueled, standing by."

Jethro dipped his head slightly and then tried to add some levity to the situation. "You want anything from the Tehran gift shop?"

The director laughed half-heartedly before adopting a much more serious expression again. "You watch your six."

He smiled weakly in response as he watched his boss and friend walk out the door. He then turned back to the laundry, finishing packing his bag. He packed a few hats and desert scarves as well, making sure not to pack any of his Marine clothing. He didn't need to draw any more attention to himself than necessary.

Downing another cup of coffee, Jethro grabbed all his things and headed out the front door, setting the alarm and locking it behind him.

Landing in Tehran, Iran just after at 2100 local time, Jethro was escorted to the crash pad that had been set up for him. Exhausted, he actually managed to get some sleep that night, falling asleep a little before 0300.

Sunday morning, he got up and climbed the walls for a bit until it was time for him to go to the meeting with the JSOC informant.

Making his way through the market, he was tense and on alert, accidentally bumping into an older gentleman who muttered something in Farsi.

"Bebakhshid," he apologized. One of the few phrases he'd learned as he looked over a phrasebook on the flight over and back at the crash pad.

His gut still churning, Jethro went behind one of the nearby market stalls so that he had a bit more cover and started looking around. There was still no sign of the informant. He glanced down at his watch and frowned. The man was quite late and he was in a pretty vulnerable position if things went south given how many civilians were around.

On high alert, Jethro noticed three men huddled together, all of them glancing directly at him after the ringleader addressed them. He immediately swallowed. His fears had just been confirmed. The informant had sold him out, broke his cover.

He tried to appear calm, checking his watch again, and turning back in the direction he had come from. He needed to know if those three men were alone.

Jethro quickly noted an empty white car, making him think that there was at least one other individual there, possibly two. Getting ready to fight, Jethro discretely pulled out one of his weapons so as to not alarm passersby.

Composed, he turned back towards the three men he'd spotted earlier, who were still standing in the same l spot, clearly watching him. He turned back around, deciding to get out of there, and was immediately fired upon from a few feet in front of him.

Jethro fired off several shots, trying not to hit any civilians, a full-on firefight breaking out in the middle of the market. Jethro managed to dodge a shot coming from behind him, but he was very clearly outnumbered. It was five on one.

As the firefight went on, shoppers fleeing the area, a civilian man went down after a shot to the chest. Tense Jethro made the only move he could think of. He ran to the nearby white car he'd seen earlier.

Running, he got hit in the shoulder but forced himself to grit through the pain and get to the car. Getting in, he ducked. A bullet narrowly missed his head. Taking a breath, he focused on hot wiring the car.

He dodged a couple of more bullets, but, thankfully, he managed to get the damn car running. Relieved, Jethro drove right out of there, half-hazardly making his way to the nearest village where he could try and regroup. Figure out his next move. Sending him out here was clearly not about Lieutenant McBride's death. Sending him out here was evidently about separating him from his team. He'd been played, set up to die.

Finally settling on his next move, he hopped back into the stolen car and drove down to a base in Iraq - Camp Baharia - where he knew one of Lieutenant McBride's JSOC coworkers was currently stationed. He needed to speak with Lieutenant Kagen and see, off the record, just exactly what the guy had to say about Lieutenant McBride's last mission before getting sent home in a box.

Jethro got there just after midnight, but the military was twenty-four-seven and after a call to Captain Wayne to verify him, he was shown to his new temporary quarters.

This was already turning out to be one hell of a trip.