The doorbell rang and Gibbs, pretending to limp, answered it, pulling his mask up.
"Yeah, what?" he snarled at the masked young man in the brown courier uniform.
"Pharmacy delivery for Jack Adams," the courier said, holding up a white paper bag. "Instructions on how to take the medications are inside the bag. If you have any questions or concerns, call your doctor or pharmacist." He placed the bag down on the doorstep and backed off, only to freeze when Gibbs suddenly raised his gun.
"Inside. Now," Gibbs said.
The courier gulped visibly, and raised his hands. "I don't have anything on me, sir," he said.
"Oh, you have something, alright," Torres said, coming up behind him, gun also raised. "Get inside. Now."
"Look, man, I'm just a courier," the man said, as he went inside.
"No, no you're not. You're a thief as well," Gibbs said, picking up the bag of prescription drugs and opening it. Inside the bag were two bottles, one for heart medication and one for hydrocodone. Waiting in the kitchen, on the table, was a simple field test that would check the painkillers for hydrocodone. It wasn't a foolproof test, but it would help determine if they were on the right track or not. While Torres and Gibbs did the testing, Langston checked the delivery van and the contents of the van.
"Who the hell are you guys?" the courier demanded, having been seated and was now being watched closely. His driver's license gave his name as Ben Greene, and the information had been sent to McGee.
"NCIS," Gibbs said, holding up his badge. "And if that does not show that it has hydrocodone in it, then you have some serious explaining to do," he said, indicating Torres, who was shaking the small test tube.
"Oh, I think we have a problem," Torres said, holding up the test tube. "This is supposed to change color. As you can see, it's not."
"Care to explain?" Gibbs asked Greene, who swallowed hard.
"I'm not saying a word without my attorney," Greene said, glaring at them.
"Think yer gonna need it," Langston said, coming in with a small box that contained unlabeled pill bottles filled with pills. "Found this hidden in th' van, along wit a lot more cash than what someone like ya should be havin' round." She placed the box on the table. "I ain't much of a gamblin' gurl, but I wouldn't mind placin' some bets 'bout what's in these bottles."
"What's your bet?" Torres asked.
"Oxy, maybe Xanax or Valium, or Demerol," Langston said, holding up one of the bottles. "Won't know 'till they're tested, but even this, th' way it is, is against th' law, and right now, this is enough for us t' have you arrested for illegal possession of restricted narcotics."
"Talk," Gibbs said.
"Not without my lawyer," Greene said. "I know my rights, and I did not give you permission to search my vehicle."
"Fine. You're under arrest for intent to distribute, possession of illegal drugs, and that's just the primaries," Gibbs said. "Get up. Hands behind your back, now."
"What about the rest of my deliveries?" Greene demanded, as he stood up. "Some of those people need those meds."
"Should have thought of that before you started dipping your toes in the wrong creek," Torres said, stealing one of Langston's lines, which he had decided he quite liked, much to Langston's amusement.
"He does have a point there, though, boss. I'm lookin' at the list here, an' there are quite a few deliveries that need t' be finished." She glanced at Torres and smiled. "Yer about the same size an' height as our fine feller here."
Gibbs smiled, and so did Torres, which made Greene very nervous. "You're not serious," he said.
He was at NCIS half an hour later, in medical scrubs, in interrogation, while Torres and Langston were now in the courier van, with Torres wearing Greene's uniform and Langston providing backup. The box of pills had been turned over to Kasie and she was in the process of testing each and every bottle. Torres would also try and make contact with Greene's dealer in the hopes of finding out who the dealer was.
While making the deliveries, Torres turned on the charm with his clients, playing up the fact that he was the new guy on the job. Half way through, he spotted a tail.
"We got trouble," he said to Langston, who was in the back.
"Don't do anything stupid that we have t' explain t' Gibbs about," she said, unsnapping her weapon.
"How's the leg?"
"Long as someone don' pull a fast one, I'm good."
The tail followed Torres to the next house and pulled over when they pulled over. No one got out, but Torres could see them watching him with binoculars. He did his delivery and got back in the van, pretending to work on some paperwork, while watching his mirrors. Someone in the other vehicle, a nondescript car, got out, and came over to the van, keeping one hand behind their back, which caused Torres to reach for his own weapon and unstrap it, before aiming it at the door.
"This could get interesting," he said in a low voice.
"Push comes t' shove, I got the door," Langston said, referring to the driver side sliding door, as she removed her weapon.
"Hey man, what's up?" Torres asked, pulling up his mask, as the newcomer approached them.
"Where's Ben Greene?" the newcomer asked. He had dark hair, dark eyes, a facial shadow, and wore ordinary jeans and a denim jacket that looked like it had seen better days. He also still kept one hand behind his back.
"Who?" Torres asked, playing dumb. "Look, man, I don't know who you're looking for. All I know is I've got a heck of a lot of deliveries to make, and not a lot of time."
"Who are you?" the newcomer asked, glaring at him. "Ben's the regular on this route and you're not it."
"I'm trying to make a living, is what I'm trying to do," Torres said. "Now, what do you want?" he demanded.
"I want to know where Ben Greene, and if I don't find him, someone is going to get hurt," the man said.
"Like I said, I don't know who he is or where he is. I'm just the substitute driver for today. You got a problem with that, call the delivery company," Torres snapped. He rolled up his window and quickly turned on the engine, before driving away with squealing tires.
"That was way too close fer comfort," Langston said, taking deep breaths.
"You ain't kidding," Torres said, watching his mirrors closely, in case they were being followed again.
"Game plan?"
"Keep doing the deliveries, and then at the end of the shift, stop by some place so you can get out without being seen, and then have someone pick me up at the courier warehouse," Torres said.
"Dumb idea time; what about doing a vehicle wash? One of those car wash bays, an' someone from NCIS jest happens to be in the next bay over," Langston suggested.
"That's not a dumb idea," Torres said. "Make the call."
"Callin'," Langston said, getting out her phone.
Back at NCIS, Gibbs had just left interrogation with Monroe, after confronting Ben Greene with the knowledge that forensic testing of the box of pill bottles had confirmed a mix of oxycodone, hydrocodone, meperidine, diazepam, and alprazolam, all worth a pretty penny on the streets and a lot of jail time for someone like Greene. Even knowing this, Greene still refused to cooperate, on the advice of his lawyer, who claimed the drugs had been illegally seized by NCIS and the DEA, as there had not been a search warrant obtained for the vehicle. Even though the prescription hydrocodone wasn't actually hydrocodone, according to the lawyer, that still didn't prove that Greene was selling or switching drugs, because the hydrocodone could have been switched at the pharmacy. Therefore, the lawyer was going to move to have the seized drugs dismissed from evidence when they went before the judge.
"Get ahold of the courier company and tell them what's going on," Gibbs told McGee. "If we lose Greene, we could lose his dealer."
"I might be able to do something," Monroe admitted. "With the recent surge in dealers using courier companies to transport their stuff, a lot more courier companies are tightening their rules about being searched for drugs. This particular company, I think, allows for surprise searches by us, or by the dogs, and the drivers are required to stop and agree to allow their vehicles to be searched at any time, even without a warrant. Plus, the van isn't owned by Greene, but by the courier company, which means he has no say as to whether not not we can search it or not. I can contact our legal department, see what can be done."
"Find out," Gibbs said. "We need leverage against this guy, or we lose him, and possibly his dealer."
"On it," Monroe said, moving away to make a phone call.
Then Gibbs' phone rang. It was Langston and she quickly brought him up to date with their undercover operation, and the unknown male that had approached them, demanding to know where Greene was.
"Couldn't see mucha th' guy 'cause of the mask, an' the car was a nondescript black thang," Langston admitted, "so we're really hopin' Greene don' have his phone wit him."
"He doesn't," Gibbs said. "Kasie's going through it right now, and if this guy calls, it will go to voicemail while she tries to trace the number."
"Good. We're headin' fer a bay car wash, an' we need someone t' meet us there so I can git out wit'out bein' seen," Langston said. "Then Torres can finish his shift an' drop off th' truck, an' then git picked up by one of us, 'cause we're concerned this yaking wacko might follow us."
"Understood," Gibbs said. "What's the address of the place?" Langston told him. "I'm on my way."
In the bullpen, McGee and Bishop had some information. "Kasie broke into Greene's phone and I've been tracing the numbers on it. What's interesting is there's three numbers that keep rotating," Bishop said, throwing a picture on the plasma. It was a list of phone numbers and text notations. She highlighted three numbers and Gibbs noted they rotated, as Bishop said. "No calls, all texts, but all three numbers go back to unlisted cell phones, and what's interesting is they're all one digit different from each other, and I know how you feel about coincidences."
"The dealer," Gibbs said. "What are the text messages?"
"Mostly just 'here' or 'running late'. One was 'call me', and there was a call a second later that lasted just over five minutes," Bishop said. "Been trying to trace where the phones were bought from, assuming they were bought as a batch, so we can see if the store where they came from had cameras."
"What about Shane Stevens?" Gibbs asked.
"Graduate of MIT University, the FBI Cyber Crimes unit has been watching him for a while for suspected information stealing, but they could never quite pin him down," McGee said. "I'm trying to track him now, but it's not easy. He's been keeping a very low profile online and I can't find a cell phone for him."
"Langston and Torres may have spotted the dealer. I need to go meet with them so they can switch without being seen," Gibbs said. "Keep searching." And he left, leaving his team to continue their searching.
In the courier van, Langston patted her pockets, and then checked the inside of her jacket. She groaned in frustration.
"What's wrong?" Torres asked.
"I'mma in bad need 'o some Lifesavers an' I don' have any, dang it," Langston said.
"Sugar craving?" Torres asked, spotting a convenience store he could pull into, if need be.
"Sorta. Stopped smokin' coupla yers back, when I joined the game wardens, an' I started hittin' the Lifesavers insteada the Talons, an' right now I'm cravin' a Talon like a fish ina dry creek bed cravin' water," Langston admitted.
Torres grinned, and pulled into the convenience store. "Stay put," he said, parking. He got out and headed into the store. A few minutes later, he came back out, and got back into the van. He then handed Langston two rolls of hard candy and two small bags. One was a Lifesavers 5 Flavor roll, one was a Jolly Rancher Hard Candy roll, and the bags were Werther's Original Caramel Apple Filled Hard Candy and Campino's Yogurt and Fruit Hard Candy.
Curious, Langston broke into the Werther's bag, and popped a caramel into her mouth. She moaned in pleasure. "Okay, I am loading up on these," she said, handing one to Torres. "Tha' hit th' spot. Much appreciated, pard'."
"You're very welcome. I hate seeing anyone suffer from an addiction they're trying to quit," Torres said, as he got back on the road. "And if hard candies help you curb your nicotine cravings, then I will gladly fill up your desk and your pockets with them."
"I can live wit dat," Langston said, grinning.
Then Torres spotted something in his side mirror. "And our weirdo is back," he said, tightening his grip on his steering wheel while reaching for his gun, which had been at his back, under his uniform shirt.
"Ring-a-ling, ding-a-ling," Langston said, tucking the rolls in her jacket and unstrapping her gun. "If he starts shootin', do we take 'im out?"
"Try not to, but if it happens, it happens," Torres said. "Just remember, we need answers, and last time I checked, Heaven and Hell had real lousy cell reception."
"Point taken."