Nothing made sense anymore. Gibbs had brought the nurse who had had the misfortune of being on reception that day close to tears when Ducky had stepped in and kindly asked the girl to speak to her supervisor.
However, after a thorough search, including checking any John Doe's that had been admitted that day, they had come up with nothing. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had not been brought in.
An even more thorough search brought them even more questions. Gibbs had tried to send McGee home for the day, but the junior agent had stood his ground and insisted in helping them find their missing colleague. Gibbs had been impressed by McGee's determination, but ordered him to at least take a shower and get changed into less bloody clothes.
Although it made his stomach churn, Gibbs decided to bag McGee's clothes along with his own bloody shirt as evidence, though evidence of what he wasn't too sure. That Tony had indeed been there? That they hadn't all imagined it all, and that Tony had indeed been shot whilst pushing Gibbs out of the line of fire?
Suppressing his sense of guilt over DiNozzo's injury, Gibbs had given McGee and Abby the task of checking in with every last hospital and medical clinic in DC for someone matching Tony's description. They also tried to see if they could track DiNozzo's phone via GPS, but to no avail.
Ziva had been brought up to speed the moment she had finished at the crime scene, and had joined in the search for their missing agent.
They all felt a sense of urgency: though no one dared to say it out loud, they all knew how much blood their agent had already lost and how every minute that passed slimmed their chances of finding DiNozzo alive.
Minutes had turned into hours, and Gibbs was growing more and more frustrated. Vance had demanded an update every hour and had already called in the FBI since, much to Gibbs' annoyance, they were in charge if a federal agent went missing.
It was when the FBI revealed that there was no record of the backup call his team had made that things got truly confusing.
''What do you mean?'' Ziva began, having just ended her phone call to yet another clinic. ''You always record emergency calls, yes?''
''If we hadn't made the call, there would have been no local LEOs or paramedics at the scene! We definitely called it in!'' McGee added nervously, feeling responsible, as he had been the one to make the call.
''I don't know what to tell you,'' Fornell shrugged his shoulders apologetically. ''There's no record of the call, nor is there any record of local LEOs or paramedics heading to the harbour today.''
His heart sinking, Gibbs quickly strode through the bullpen, opting for the stairs rather than waiting for the lift.
''Gibbs, where are you going?'' Fornell called after him, watching as Ziva and McGee jumped up from their desks and followed their boss towards the exit.
''Back to the crime scene, where else?'' Gibbs growled, going down the stairs two steps at a time. Fornell sighed, but he had to agree that everything about this day seemed- how did Abby say it? Hinky.
The drive to the harbour had been completely silent safe from the rain that had started to pour down halfway through the journey, with each agent going over the events of that day, hoping to suddenly be able to fit the puzzle pieces together. Even Fornell, who wasn't quite as used to Gibbs' driving as the other two in the car, had remained quiet until they reached the harbour.
''What the hell?'' Fornell slammed the door to the car shut, looking expectantly from one agent to the other. The FBI agent prayed that this had all been a horrible prank on his behalf; that DiNozzo would appear from behind one of the containers, laughing as he filmed Fornell's reaction. One glance at the rest of the MCRT proved that his prayers would not be answered.
They all stood still, eyes wide. A few hours ago, they had arrested Lieutenant Murdock roughly 300 meters from where they were currently stood. They had been shot at, had looked after DiNozzo's gun shot wound and had killed three other assailants.
There should be local LEOs guarding the crime scene, yellow tape surrounding the containers and chalk lines where Lieutenant Murdock and the three shooters had been.
So why was there not a trace of their turbulent day left in sight?