Deep Lacerations: Chapter 9
As she had done the morning before, Special Agent Sonja Gracy beat her new team to the bullpen, already working on reports when Special Agent Tony DiNozzo arrived. He eyed her for a moment before speaking as he tossed his bag under his desk. "How'd the hot date go last night?"
She raised her eyebrows as she turned to face him, an amused expression on her face. "What makes you think I had a hot date?"
He shrugged. "I figured that would be the only thing to keep you from going out to drinks with your teammates."
"No, Agent DiNozzo, that is the only thing that would keep you from going out to drinks with your teammates," she replied with a slight smile. He waited for her to say more, but she went back to her reports without another word.
"Good morning, Tony," Officer Ziva David said as she entered the bullpen. She quickly glanced over at Gracy, but turned her attention back to DiNozzo without saying anything.
"Second day in a row I beat you in, Ziva," he smirked. "You're slipping."
She smirked back at him as she sashayed over to him, a seductive look on her face as she leaned over his desk, her face inches from his. "I was not aware you were paying such close attention to my every move, Tony," she said, her voice low and husky. "That makes me feel so special."
"If you're not going to kiss him, David, I believe you have some reports to finish," Special Agent Jethro Gibbs said as he headed for his desk. He caught the eye of Agent Gracy as she tried to keep from laughing. "Gracy," he barked. "I haven't gotten your arrest report yet."
The amused expression on her face quickly turned into one of surprise. "I emailed it to you last night, sir." He glared at her over the desks.
"He doesn't check his email," DiNozzo explained. "And he doesn't like to be called 'sir'."
She turned back to face Gibbs, a look of understanding on her face. "Especially by former officers," she stated, not a question. She ignored the confused looks on DiNozzo's and David's faces. "It took me years to get in the habit of calling my superiors 'sir' and 'ma'am'. It'll take me awhile to break it," she paused a beat before adding, "Agent Gibbs."
He took a sip of coffee to hide the grin that flitted across his face. He had to admit, she was quick with the comebacks, and didn't seem to be fazed by anything, two qualifications that he felt were necessary in agents. "Print it out and get it on my desk by 0830," he demanded. She rolled her eyes and got to it.
Lunch had come and gone when Gibbs got the phone call they all knew was coming. "DiNozzo!" he barked as he hung up the phone. "Gas the truck. We got a case."
"Where to, Boss?" DiNozzo asked as he slipped his Sig into the holster.
"Quantico," Gibbs replied. "Dead body found on base."
"Is this usual?" Agent Gracy asked Officer David as they headed for the elevators. "Two dead bodies in two days?"
Ziva shrugged. "When it rains, it hails," she said enigmatically. Gracy frowned.
"I think you mean, when it rains, it pours."
"That is a redundant statement, no?" Ziva asked with a frown. Sonja sighed, not knowing how to explain. As the elevator stopped in the garage, she was saved the trouble of the explanation by Gibbs.
"Gracy," he commanded, standing by the driver's side door. "This time, when I tell you to do a job, you do it! Understood?"
Her face flushed, the sprinkling of freckles over her cheeks standing out. "Understood, Agent Gibbs," she ground out through gritted teeth. They didn't speak again until they arrived at Quantico.
"Ziva, photos. DiNozzo, bag and tag." Agent Gibbs paused and fixed Agent Gracy with a cold look. "Gracy, sketches. And this time, don't get distracted by the dead guy in the middle of our crime scene." She rolled her eyes and moved to brush past him. His arm shot out, catching her elbow. "You may have been a medical examiner once, Gracy, but you're not anymore," he said, his voice low. She fixed him with a cold look.
"Believe me, I know that," she said, an icy tone to her voice. Gibbs opened his mouth to say something further. Gracy raised her free hand to stop him. "Don't go there, Gibbs." Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills before he released her arm, freeing her to continue to the crime scene, sketch pad and pencil in hand.
Not wanting to be distracted by the body and the tendencies of her former career, Gracy started with the outside of the crime scene, the sketching awkward with the brace she wore over her right wrist, the injury a combination of years of carpal tunnel syndrome and an evening of goofing around. After getting a reasonable diagram of the trees and rocks and other physical features of the scene, she hazarded a glance over at the body and almost dropped the sketchpad in surprise.
"Hey, DiNozzo," she called out to the NCIS agent, standing a few yards away, making a note on an evidence bag. "Do you mind if we switch jobs?" She held up her wrist and adopted an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid my sketching isn't quite up to par."
He gave her a wide grin. "Where'd that come from?"
"The brace? The orthopedics department at Walter Reed. Or did you mean the injury?" She gave a slightly teasing smile. "I guess things got a little out of hand last night."
He raised his eyebrows and chuckled softly. "Sure," he replied, handing over the pile of bags and the camera. "You familiar with the forms?"
She looked them over and nodded. "Yeah, they're pretty much the same as the ones at CID. Here's the sketchpad. I've done the periphery, but it's just really awkward with this thing, and I didn't want to mess up on the details."
"I've done the area around the body and had been working my way out," DiNozzo explained. "Just remember to take a picture before you pick anything up."
"I'm not a probie, remember?" she replied. "Thanks." He nodded and took the sketchpad to where she left off.
As expected, Dr. Donald Mallard and Jimmy Palmer didn't show up until about half an hour after the team began their tasks. "What have we got here?" Ducky asked as Jimmy struggled with the gurney.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Gibbs replied, "seeing as that's your job."
"Well, yes, Jethro, but you don't usually pack an extra medical examiner with you."
Gibbs frowned. "She's a CID special agent, Ducky, not another assistant for you. She already has a job to do."
"I do apologize, Jethro. Sometimes, old patterns are hard to break." He headed over toward the body, stopping in his tracks as he realized what he was looking at. "Oh, my," he murmured. The man, likely a Marine judging by the high and tight hair cut and sculpted physique, was clad only in boxer shorts, but that wasn't what got Ducky's attention. His exposed skin was covered in small cuts, likely over a hundred lacerations in seemingly random places over his legs, abdomen, torso, arms, and even his face. "Has Agent Gracy seen the body?" he asked softly, not wanting to attract the attention of the others.
"She better not have," Gibbs replied. "I reminded her that she's not a medical examiner anymore."
"Good," Ducky said forcefully. He took a deep breath as he turned back to look at the body. "You should probably keep her from seeing him."
"Is there a reason why, Ducky?" Gibbs asked with a frown. Dr. Mallard turned back to face the supervisory agent.
"I told you that Sonja Gracy extensively studied bladework; specifically, what a blade can do to human flesh," he began. He glanced over at the body again. "What I didn't tell you about the autopsy Agent Gracy did on her husband was that her husband's assailants seemed to have that expertise in mind. During the time he was held, he suffered from over one hundred lacerations at the hands of his torturers. At least on the outside, Jethro, this young man looks just like Major Scott Gracy."