Heading down to the squad room, Jethro met with his team while Tobias got to go and deal with Mr. Méndez and the protective detail. Jethro was honestly glad that he wasn't the one who had to run a protective detail. They were stressful at the best of times, let alone which the people you were assigned to protect had, uh, strong personalities.
After speaking with his team, Jethro headed outside to grab himself a fresh cup of joe from the coffee stand. Walking back off the elevator up in the squad room, he realized that Tobias and Mr. Méndez were both still there, clearly bickering.
He walked over to them. "Hey. Thought you left a while ago."
"I was trying," Tobias replied. "But, uh, Mr. Méndez here has been slow to embrace the concept of protective custody."
The Cuban-American man eyed him. "I'm not afraid of these bastards."
"It's not about fear," he countered. Jethro understood the other man's perspective, but he was also aware that pride just wasn't worth it in these situations.
"I do business all over the country, Agent Gibbs!" the Cuban-American man said. "Any alterations to my schedule - to my life - would be a victory for the Brotherhood."
"These are special circumstances," Tobias insisted.
"Special only if we allow the terrorists to make them so!" Méndez countered.
Jethro shot the Cuban-American man a very pointed look. "Look, don't be a dumb ass. You keep Agent Fornell in your hip pocket or you're a dead man."
"For freedom, I'd hardly be the first to die!" Méndez stated. The man's expression then softened slightly. "But very well."
"Really?" Tobias asked. "I spent the last hour saying pretty much the same thing."
Méndez shot the visibly frustrated FBI agent a slight mocking look in reply. "Then let's hope you're better at protection than you are at persuasion."
The Cuban-American began walking away from them and Tobias turned towards Jethro and shot him a pleading look. "Save me."
Jethro clasped his friend on the shoulder, not bothering to attempt and hide the look of notable amusement on his face. The FBI agent then walked off briskly to catch up with the apparently rather difficult Mr. Méndez. Better you than me, Tobias.
Heading back across the squad room to his desk, Jethro sat down and phoned Abby to make sure Homeland sent a copy of the report they had requested to her. Jethro then started to do a more in-depth back-check, looking into Captain Wayne.
Jethro didn't find anything that they hadn't already known, but he eventually put all of the reading on hold momentarily, meeting with the agent working the Middle East desk to discuss the latest threat assessment.
After that, Jethro noted the time and decided to order some lunch for his team, in the mood for some decent coffee again. After which, he worked on finishing a couple of his reports while his field agents all went over the reports from Homeland. It was a rather slow afternoon, unfortunately, but little after 1743 Jethro briskly got up from his desk and headed into the elevator and down to the forensics lab.
"Bullets give us anything, Abs?" he asked as he walked in.
She glanced back at him and then her gaze landed back on her computer screen. "Um, standard .308 Winchesters. Anyone could buy them online. And there's nothing to tie them to this... stupid Brotherhood of Doubt thing." Her expression darkened slightly. "The name is such a downer. I don't even like saying it.
He gestured to the computer screen. "What is this?"
"It's just a little mock-up I made to try to make sense out of stuff," she stated.
"Bullet trajectories?" he asked.
"Yeah," she confirmed. "All the slugs from Tony's apartment landed at the same angle and came from the same point of origin."
He dipped his head slightly. "Rooftop across the street."
She side-eyed him. "Well, that's what Homeland says."
"So what doesn't make any sense?" he inquired. He hadn't noticed anything off when he'd read the report on the shootout at DiNozzo's apartment earlier.
Abby shot Jethro a pointed look. "Their lone witness said that he saw someone on the roof just after the shots were fired. But there's no one and nothing there."
"Can you beam this up to Tony or McGee?" he requested.
Abby gave an amused little hum in response. "Well, I can't beam it, Captain Kirk, but I could send it up, sure."
Jethro smirked, having watched some Star Trek with his son-in-law on a few different occasions over dinner. Michael liked it and he'd decided to give the franchise a chance as it would help him to understand all the references McGee was always making easier. As it turned out, he liked it more than he thought he would. He had no desire to watch it regularly, but still. "Execute."
She shook her head in amusement as she sent the file up to McGee. He then leaned in to give Abby a kiss on the cheek before gently putting his arm around her, duo walking up to the squad room together.
"The witness is a maintenance man in the building where the shots were fired from," McGee informed him. "Gerald Carlin."
His Senior Field Agent then side-eyed him. "Guy claims that he was having lunch when it all went down.
"Carlin stated that he glanced out the window when he heard the gunshots and saw a figure running from the roof," Ziva added.
"He saw his own roof from his own building?" Abby asked. "How does that work?"
"It doesn't," he remarked. "Where was the lunch?"
"Knew you'd ask that, Boss!" the Italian-American replied. "Carlin was at a bar across the street called Clancy's. The bartender confirms the guy was there, eating a turkey club. He glanced out the window when he heard the shots."
"Were there drinks?" he asked.
DiNozzo nodded. "Four beers, two tequilas."
"So he wasn't seeing anything too clearly," Abby commented.
"Or he was paid to see what he saw," he countered.
"I'm with Gibbs on this one," Ziva readily agreed. "It would not be the first time that a terrorist paid people off."
Abby got a look that he knew well. "Okay, so if... the shots didn't come from the roof, they had to have come from the top floor."
"Homeland interview tenants?" he asked.
McGee started scanning through the list of residents' names. "Top floor..." The younger man's expression shifted. "All but one. Lisa Pierway. She never answered the door."
Jethro sighed as he looked at the photo of the young brunette woman up on the large plasma screen. "Okay, Ziva, you're with me. Tony, McGee… go speak with Tom Morrow. See if there's anything that he's holding back."
Grabbing their gear packs, he and Ziva both made their down to the motorpool. They needed to speak with Ms. Pierway if it was at all possible. Unfortunately, there was the distinct chance they were too late. If nobody had heard from her since…
DiNozzo's apartment building was located in the heart of Logan Circle so, thankfully, it didn't take long to get there. Time really was money right now.
"NCIS!" Jethro called out as he opened the apartment door. He and Ziva both had their weapons drawn. He instantly noticed the strong scent in the air. "Lisa Pierway?"
Ziva eyed him as they walked through the living room. "Yeah, I know that smell."
He simply nodded curtly, continuing to clear the apartment. He headed to the bedroom and Ziva went in the opposite direction. They were both on high alert now though that it was evident that someone had been - and possibly was - in the apartment who was no friend to them. This wasn't going to be a simple interview.
The apartment was a fairly decent size, but even then it didn't take much time before most of the main area was cleared and his JFA had found something. Exactly what he hadn't wanted to find. "Gibbs, we have a body."
He lowered his weapon and sighed. "I'll call Ducky."
Jethro kept the conversation with Ducky succinct, simply saying that they had found a body and needed him on scene. Palmer had stayed back at NCIS to get something else done for the long-time medical examiner.
"There are signs of an intense struggle before she was strangled," Ducky stated as he wrapped up his preliminary on-scene assessment.
"The shooter didn't even bother to make it look like a robbery, Ziva commented. "Lisa Pierway was a pharmaceutical rep. There are boxes full of drug samples that were left untouched in her closet."
Jethro gave a curt nod. "Guy was a pro. Cleaned up after himself. No prints."
"Don't be too sure, Jethro!" Ducky countered. "What I thought at first were petechiae in Ms. Pierway's eyes, were actual subconjunctival hemorrhages, likely caused by the killer's thumbs."
"He eye-gouged her," Jethro surmised.
"Yes, a bully tactic, indeed!" the medical examiner confirmed. "But one that may prove perversely fortunate."
"Thumbprints?" Ziva guessed.
Ducky nodded sagely. "She's wearing contact lenses. If Abby can pull even a partial off one of them -" Jethro's cellphone started to ring. "- we just may find our killer."
Taking out his cellphone, Jethro quickly glanced down at the caller I.D. Figuring it was work-related, he answered the call. "Yeah, Tobias, what's up?"
Apparently, the FBI agent merely wanted to set up a face-to-face chat for the following day. Wrapping up at the crime scene, they returned to the Navy Yard and Jethro went upstairs to brief the director. Rejoining his team in the squad room, he glanced down at his wristwatch and decided to send his team home for the night. They all could use the rest and they didn't have anything to do that couldn't wait until the morning. The reality was, they weren't likely to make any more progress that night.
Pulling into their driveway that evening, he quickly noticed that his daughter's car was there. She'd evidently stopped by for a visit. Getting out of his truck, he nodded to the two agents who were protecting his wife and daughter. Jethro then continued to make his way silently into the house.
He smiled widely as he watched what was going on in their living room. Shannon was goofing around in the living room, playing with a small seventeen-month-old redhead, while an extremely pregnant Kelly was laughing. God, Paisley Anne was looking more and more like her mother every day.
Taking his blazer off, he tossed it over the chair and took off his shoes. He then walked over to where his three girls were. Jethro gave Shannon a rather less than chaste kiss and then kissed his daughter on the cheek. "Hello."
Kelly smiled up at him. "Hi, Dad."
He returned the smile. "How was your day?"
"Weird," Kelly replied with a small smile. "We had a six-month-old golden-doodle who ate her own collar and a red heeler that sprained his tail wagging it too hard."
He gave an amused little snort in response. "I wasn't aware that was even a thing." His granddaughter was pulling on his sleeve to get his attention, so he turned to her. "Yes, Little Miss?"
Paisley pointed at what was clearly a new stuffed animal with a huge grin. "Bunny."
He smiled, kneeling slightly to check the toy out. "You got a bunny? That's great. Who gave you the bunny?"
Paisley pointed deliberately at Kelly. "Mama."
Jethro looked encouragingly at the bubbly seventeen-month-old. "Wow, that was really nice of Mommy. Does the bunny have a name?"
His granddaughter nodded seriously. "Bunny."
He chuckled softly. "Pais definitely inherited your penchant for names, Kellz."
Kelly shot him a look. "How so?"
Jethro raised an eyebrow with a small smirk still playing on his lips. "I recall a little girl running around with a teddy bear she proudly named Bear Bear."
His wife chuckled. "1989's Christmas nightmare for every parent."
"I stood in line for six hours to get you that bear," he commented in fond exasperation. It had been less than enjoyable but Kelly, who rarely asked for anything, had wanted it so badly and he'd just found out that he was deploying to Panama to fight in Operation Just Cause five much-too-short days before Christmas.
"You're being deployed, aren't you?" Shannon asked although it was really more of a statement. She always had been able to read him well.
Jethro sighed. "Yeah."
Shannon licked her lips. "When?"
"Wednesday," he replied.
"Eight days?" his wife stated, a little surprised as in the past they had usually received a bit more of a warning. "That's such short notice, and -"
He dipped his head slightly. "I know. I'll make it up to you, Shan, I promise."
"But Daddy," his daughter cried, tears starting to form, "you can't go! It's Christmas!" Kelly threw her little arms around him. "Please, don't go, Daddy! Don't go!"
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know, Kelly Baby, but I have to go."
"But it's Christmas, Daddy!" Kelly exclaimed. "I want you here! It's not fair!"
Yes, waiting in that line for so long had sucked, but Jethro would do it all over again in a heartbeat to make his daughter smile. It had been worth it.
Kelly chuckled softly. "Well, Madds had a goldfish named Goldie so at least I'm in good company when it comes to naming trends."
He rolled his eyes happily. "Two peas in a pod."
"That's one way to put it," Shannon quipped. "How's Maddie doing?"
"She's doing well," Kelly said. "Actually, she just -"
As they sat around chatting Jethro felt the tension he was feeling fade away. As hectic and stressful as things had been at work lately, there was just something about seeing his girls' smiling faces that made things infinitely better.
