Things picked up over the next several weeks, the MCRT catching a case involving a young Navy Lieutenant who'd initially been thought missing and Jethro ended up going back down to Afghanistan with McGee to a local women's shelter. They had also managed to close a cold case - a money laundering case he'd worked with Mike Franks. They then partnered with CGIS again after there was an explosion on an oil rig contracted out to the military. It was actually really nice to see Agent Borin again. Unfortunately, things were still eerily quiet on the Benham Parsa front, the young terrorist leader annoyingly keeping chatter to an absolute minimum.

Jethro had worked quite a bit of overtime as of late, but it came with the job and was what it was. Waking up that first week of November though, Jethro could never have guessed the turn that his day would end up taking. Thankfully, Ziva was back at work after taking the prior day off due to not waking up puking the last few days.

Jethro had his suspicions about just why that was but decided to leave it alone for the time being. She'd say something when she was ready. Or not.

He and his team had been called down to a high-end clothing store in downtown D.C early that morning where a twenty-eight-year-old Marine Sergeant, Michael Dawson, was shot while doing some shopping on leave. Two gunshot wounds to the chest, one directly over the young man's heart. At first glance, it seemed to be a simple robbery gone bad. The young man had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The MCRT was in the middle of processing the scene, Jethro observing Ducky as the preliminary examination of the remains was performed, when his cell phone started to ring. Pulling his phone out of his right pocket, he glanced at the call display.

Incoming call: Dad

Jethro ignored the call, figuring if it was important his father would call back and that he could return his old man's call once they were finished at the crime scene. He then went and called Detective Kemp down at Metro P.D to see if the police department had any cases recently with similar M.O.s to their presumed robbery.

After his short conversation with the Metro Detective, Jethro walked back over towards where McGee, Ziva, and DiNozzo were huddled after finishing their witness interviews and taking the necessary photos. He glanced between all three of his field agents. "No other witnesses. Metro has seen three armed robberies in the area this month."

"Six feet, ski mask, working alone?" DiNozzo questioned.

Jethro dipped his head slightly. "Yep."

Ziva turned to him. "I'll have Metro send over the files."

He nodded as his phone started to ring again. Pulling the flip phone out, he noted that it was his father calling him again. This time, he decided to answer. There was a good chance it was important. "Hey, Dad. I'm in the middle of something. Can it wait?"

To say that he was shocked by the voice that replied would be an understatement. "Sir, this is Officer Mitchell, Howard County P.D. Apologies for the confusion. You were the only one programmed into the phone. Uh, Jackson Gibbs is your father?"

Jethro blinked, immediately feeling concerned. Why is a cop calling me about Dad? Is he okay? What's going on? He hoped this wasn't one of those calls. He and Shannon were both still working on having his stubborn old man agree to move in with them. If something had happened to his father… Keeping his composure and trying to relax, he forced himself to respond. "Yeah. Yeah. Is he okay?"

The officer seemed to search for a way to explain the situation. "Uh, well, sir, he..."

Just then a voice that Jethro would know from anywhere came loudly over the line. He couldn't help the relief that washed over him. His father was fine. Obviously, he'd done something, but he was fine. "I know my rights! I'll report you so damn fast, -"

The officer spoke. "Hold on."

"- your tears won't have time to hit the floor!" his father finished.

Jethro sighed. "Oh, yeah. You have him."

The police officer spoke a lot more confidently now. "Uh, yes, sir, we do. And I'm afraid there's been an incident."

"You think I'm kidding?" his father exclaimed. He could then hear the tell-tale sound of the Gibbs patriarch pounding on what was likely some countertop down at the Howard County police station. "Show me what law I broke! Show me!"

Wishing that he was a bit more surprised that his father was having problems than he was, Jethro left his Senior Field Agent in charge and hopped into his pickup truck and started the hour-long drive down to Ellicott City in Maryland.

He left a message for his wife while on the road but, unsurprisingly, she didn't answer. He hadn't really expected her to given the fact that she was at work and all. Shannon would check her messages during her lunch break.

Thankfully, Officer Mitchell was able to explain a bit more about just what the so-called incident was when he finally arrived at the precinct. Apparently, his father had gotten into a small fender bender.

"This never is easy," Mitchell said. "I know what losing a license can do to a person."

He eyed the officer. "Well, if his eyes are that bad, you didn't have a choice."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Mitchell said. "Your father told me you were gonna get me in my sleep." He laughed; that comment definitely sounded like his father. Officer Mitchell pointed to the holding room Jethro's father was waiting in. "This is him."

Jethro turned to the officer as they came to a stop just outside the door. "Listen, uh, I appreciate you going the extra mile."

Officer Mitchell dipped his head slightly. "You know, the same thing happened to my father when he reached a certain age. It never is easy."

As the officer opened the door, his father immediately stood up. "Leroy!" His old man started walking out. "Forget my car. We'll get it later. Let's use yours."

He eyed his father. "Dad, slow down, okay?"

The Gibbs patriarch evidently decided to ignore his comment. "Oh, and I'm gonna get my license back, too, later. Bunch of idiots. Come on, we need to get on the road."

What's so damn important? "Take a breath. Tell me what happened."

"I hit a parked car," the older man replied. "Stop the presses."

He tilted his head slightly. "I asked what happened, Dad."

"I got off the highway to get some gas and the gas station was closed," the older man finally explained. "I got... turned around somehow. So I took off my driving glasses
and I put on my reading glasses to check the map. And I.. I bumped into a hatchback. Alright? I mean... I can see fine. Now, can we go?"

"What's so important about Maryland?" he asked.

"Nothing," his father replied matter-of-factly. "I was just passing through on my way to pick you up." He was driving down to pick me up? To do what? "Going to see an old war buddy. Eden, North Carolina." They both came to a stop near a bench. "I want you to come with me."

He eyed his father. "Dad… You could've called first, okay?" He then reached for the bag of clothes and such his father was carrying.

His father pulled the bag back. "And give you a chance to say no?" his father retorted. "My buddy... I got word that he's dying. I got things I need to say to him."

Deciding to hear his father out, Jethro gestured for his old man to take a seat down on the bench that was just a couple of feet away. Once they'd sat down, he gestured for the older veteran to talk. "I was helping you build A model plane, and you asked me about the war. Do you remember the story I told you?"

He nodded. It was one of the very few stories from the war that his father had shared and Jethro remembered it well. His father's lack of communication had bothered him to a degree when he was a kid but after his own time in the service, Jethro understood all too well why his father didn't like talking about the war and had reacted the way he did when Jethro told him he was shipping out for the first time. "Yeah, of course."

"This guy was the other pilot," his father explained. If his old man was surprised by his memory, he didn't show it. "Walter Beck. Do you remember that name?"

He nodded. It was hard to forget the name of the man who'd saved his father's life. It had left quite the impression on the scrawny seven-year-old boy he'd been.

"He was the one," his father said although it needed no explanation.

Jethro was feeling torn. On the one hand, work was expecting him back. On the other hand, this was clearly something his father needed to do. "Dad, I'm right in the middle of an investigation. I can get someone to take you there."

"I don't need to be taken," his father countered without missing a beat. "I want you to meet him." He swallowed. "Leroy, I need you to do this. Please."

For someone like his old man to beg him like he did showed him how important it was for the Gibbs patriarch that he meet Walter. He couldn't exactly argue with that even if he didn't understand his father's specific reasoning. So, he locked eyes with his father. "What's the best way to get to Eden?"

Pleased, his father got to his feet and grabbed his bag. "Let's go."

Walking out of the police station with his father, Jethro just hoped he'd finally be able to get his father to agree to move in with him and Shannon. It just made no sense for his father with his worsening mobility issues and eyesight and now the lack of a driver's licence to be so far away from his family. Alone. He and Shannon had way more than enough room for him.

Then again… the Gibbs patriarch was where Jethro got his own stubborn streak from. He might need a miracle for this one.