Chapter 3
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Now I know how a Ken doll feels, Jimmy thought, uncomfortably, while two of the royal family aides dressed him in Jhon's finest suit, complete with sash and military medals.
"You look magnificent, dear Jimmy! Just like me! Just like me!" Jhoe crowed, walking around him. "Your—our—picture will be in all the papers and all the news channels and the internet within hours."
"And this is a good thing?" Jimmy grumbled.
"Of course it is! And once you have given my speech, the world will know that Rhumbhertia takes a back seat to no one!"
"Actually, I always liked riding in the back seat," said Jimmy. "When my dad drove, I could play back there or go to sleep or eat crackers or—"
"Yes, yes," Jhoe cut him off. "You will do fine with the speech. Do not deviate from it, my good man; Bluto will be right behind you the entire time."
Most definitely a threat. Jimmy assumed Bluto would be armed; even if not, he was probably as lethal as Ziva was. I hope I'm not starting WWIII with this speech…
He also wondered if there was a law against impersonating a foreign potentate before the US government. The Director could probably find one…
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Once dressed, he was locked back in the bedroom with the real Prince Jhon. He wasn't handcuffed, unlike the crown prince, but the situation was just as difficult. There was no way to escape. "I'm sorry, your, your—" He'd forgotten the proper address again.
"My friends just call me 'Jhon'," the prince said kindly.
Jimmy blinked, and smiled a watery smile. "I'm sorry, Jhon. Sorry that I resemble you. Sorry that I got you into this fix."
"It's not your fault, Jhimmy. I should have left Jhoe at home. He had planned to attend a necrophiliacs' convention this weekend. I thought seeing America would be a good thing for him. I was wrong," He sighed. "Mistakes were made. One cannot go through life without making some now and then."
"You have a good philosophy."
Jhon shrugged. "My grandfather always said, 'Life is 1% action and 99% philosophy.' I would rather wait and analyze a situation than run at it blindly."
"Is that what Prince Jhoe is going to do?"
"My brother has some outrageous ideas; some from bad acquaintances, some from too many hours of playing video games. And, I fear he has a…personality disorder that would make him unsuitable to be the future king,"
"He said he intends to kill you!"
"That is part of it."
Silence fell. "There's a way out of this," said Jimmy, after awhile. "I'm sure there must be. The special agents I work with—they don't give up. Never."
Jhon smiled a little, and his smile grew. "Is that so?"
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Shortly before 1 p.m. Leon Vance and the SECNAV settled into their seats in the visitor's section of the House chamber for this special joint meeting of Congress, to be addressed by the crown prince of the little-known European state of Rhumbertia. Vance heard the mumblings around him about the scant knowledge available about this tiny monarchy, but the general view seemed to be that any visit by a foreign dignitary was a break from routine and therefore, a treat. All Vance knew was that he'd rather be back at NCIS. He was going on too little sleep as it was; both of his kids had the flu and he and Jackie had been up most of the night with them. He was not at his best.
Precisely at 1, the Speaker of the House took to the podium, and in warm terms bid a welcome to His Royal Highness, Prince Jhon of Rhumbhertia. Smiling and applauding with the members of Congress, she stepped aside while the youthful crown prince stepped up.
"Hmph. Never did care for those foreign sashes and stuff," the SECNAV grumbled. Vance only blinked and rubbed his tired eyes as he peered at the far-off stage. Why did the prince look familiar?
"Madame Speaker, esteemed members of the United States Congress, ladies and gentlemen; I am honored to be before you today," began "Jhon" (in fact, Jimmy). "Our two nations have enjoyed a long history of friendship and peace, rooted in common values and interests. It has been a glorious couple of centuries. You may remember that Rhumbhertia supported your War of Independence, sending 137 troops to aid your cause. Sadly, they became lost and landed in Newfoundland and so did not arrive until the final twelve days of your war, but I'm sure you'll agree that it was the thought that counted."
There were murmurs of agreement and light applause from the audience. People loved to be reminded of the successful wars.
Vance, however, stiffened and glared. What he was thinking bordered on the impossible.
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Meanwhile, at NCIS…
Jhoe, dressed again as Jimmy, strolled in Autopsy, whistling. "Whom shall we slice up today, Doctor? I yearn for new adventures, I do!"
Ducky looked at his assistant, and didn't bother holding back his sigh. He'd hoped that whatever madness had infected young Palmer yesterday would have evaporated overnight. That did not seem to have happened, however. "We have no new guests, Mister Palmer. The team has not been called out on a case in several days. Perhaps the world has become a sunnier, safer place."
"Oh dear; I hope not!" said 'Jimmy'. "That would be a blow to our profession!"
Ducky now stared. "Mister Palmer! We have had our little chats before about appropriate and inappropriate remarks…"
"Yes, Doctor? Rest assured, I have not been aware that you have said anything inappropriate at any time! I shall indeed vouch for your good character and sense of decency!"
"But…" Ducky's mouth fell open.
"Might I take a few personal moments, my good man? I must have words with the beauteous Ahbby, and my heart tells me it can wait no longer!" Without waiting for an answer, he dashed out.
"I suppose so…" Ducky mumbled to 'Jimmy's' departing form.
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"Ahbby! My little treasure! You are here!" Jhoe cried as he flounced into her lab.
She turned her head away from Master Mass Spec and looked at him. "Uh…yeah. This is where they have me working, Jimmy."
"And it is my delight, no, my privilege to work in the same building as you. But not for long! Not for long! Soon you shall be ruling at my side, and the whole world shall be at your feet."
"What; are we going to the top of Mt. Everest?" Mildly amused, she turned back to Master Mass Spec.
"If that is what you desire, my sweet black rose, that is what we shall do! But! I came in here now to give you a small token of my affection; a down payment, if you like, on our upcoming wedded life together."
"Palmer…"
"Open it! Do open it now! I bought it this morning on the way to work. I saw it, and knew right off that it could only adorn your pretty neck." He thrust a gift box at her.
"Palmer, you really shouldn't have..." she said, opening the white box slowly. This joke had gone too far, and she knew Jimmy couldn't afford lavish gifts.
She had no idea how lavish it was, and gasped as she opened the large, heavy box. Inside the box was a necklace…but no ordinary necklace. A roughly triangular plate, measuring about five inches across and seven inches deep, had an image of a skull and crossbones: the skull and bones made up thousands of tiny diamonds; the black background was composed of innumerable tiny black pearls. It was all on a hefty black chain studded with larger diamonds.
"Allow me to fasten it on you, my darling necrophiliac."
Abby recovered quickly from her shock, and closed the box. "Jimmy, fun is fun, but this joke's gone too far. Did you rob a costume jewelry shop for this?"
"My sweet! How could you think such a thing? The only robbery in this fair city is that you have stolen my heart, which I would have given to you, gladly." He stepped toward her.
Now she was starting to be frightened. Abby had an eye for jewelry, and had known from the start that the jewels were real. What had she gotten herself into?
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Tires screeching, two cars pulled up in front of the ritzy hotel at which the crown prince was staying. Gibbs had his own car, with Tim, and Tony and Ziva travelled in Tony's. The affair was weird enough that it seemed likely that the team would have to split up at some point.
With a sense of urgency, Gibbs' demeanor and badge got the manager on duty to immediately assent to letting them into the prince's suite. "That was some strange phone call Palmer made," Tony remarked for about the third time. "Being held prisoner by a foreign prince? And speaking before Congress? If this is all a joke…"
"Only Palmer could tell such a story and have it be true," said Tim. "I think Ducky's stories have rubbed off on him."
"Quiet!" snapped Gibbs, and pushed the suite door open. They burst in; guns drawn. All they did was startle a few female royal aides, who looked defenseless.
"Where are you keeping Jimmy Palmer?" Tony demanded. When they didn't answer, he said, louder and slower, "Where—are—you—keeping—Jimmy—Palmer?"
"We do speak English, sir," said one of the aides. "But who is this 'Jhimmy Hpalmer'?"
"Search all the rooms," Gibbs directed Tony and Ziva.
In a few minutes, Ziva called out from one of the bedrooms. Gibbs and Tony hurried in to find her forcing open Jhon's handcuffs. "Palmer! How in the world—"
"Thank you, my dear," said Jhon, getting to his feet stiffly, and then bowing. "I am not your friend Jhimmy, I am afraid. I am Jhon, crown prince of Rhumbhertia. And yes, as so many have now remarked, the resemblance is uncanny."
"Your Highness, may I?" Tim stepped up with his portable fingerprint scanner. With the prince's consent, and AIFIS' database, he had an answer swiftly. "I wasn't sure you'd be in our system, Your Highness, but it looks like you are you."
Jhon smiled. "It is not required of foreign diplomats entering the United States, but I have nothing to hide. I allowed myself to be fingerprinted voluntarily."
"But where is Jimmy Palmer?" asked Ziva. "We received a frantic phone call from him…"
"Ah. He was held here in handcuffs, as was I. Then they dressed him in my suit and put him back in here with me until it was time to go before Congress. I remembered, though, that although they had taken from him his mobile telephone, they had only put it in a drawer here. Since he now had hands free, he was able to call you…only a minute before they took him away."
"Where did they take him?"
"To your Congress, as I have said. He should be speaking now, a horribly revised version of my intended speech, in a joint meeting of your Congress."
Tony flipped on the TV. One of the ZNN sub-channels, sure enough, was carrying the address live.
"But what's the point?"
Jhon looked grim. "My enemies, sir, intend to declare war."
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Come on; Gibbs. Come on, Tony, Ziva, McGee…get me out of this!
I don't want to go down in the history books…not this way!
Jimmy swallowed and turned the page in his speech. "Rhumbhertia is a prosperous land with a high standard of living. We are rich in minerals and are a popular vacation destination for citizens of at least two or three countries of Europe. Still, the Disney corporation has refused to consider our requests for a Disneyland-Rhumbhertia. That is beyond our royal understanding.
"Our serfs—I mean, citizens—" Jimmy couldn't let that one pass, uncorrected. "enjoy happy living in a benevolent monarchy in which the Royal Family knows what is best for them. They will happily live and die to support our new goal of global nuclear proli—"
He became aware of a movement to his side, and from the corner of his eye saw the Speaker of the House, looking started, listening to someone. He turned his head some more and saw that the person talking to her, from the wings, was Gibbs!
The Speaker whispered to Jimmy, who then readdressed the audience. "I, uh, we beg your indulgence for a moment while we, uh, straighten something out backstage." He trotted off stage left, following Bluto, who, seeing that he had guns trained on him by Gibbs' team in the wings, recognized the value in a bloodless coup.
On stage left, a grinning Prince Jhon was waiting for him, in Jimmy's ordinary button-down shirt and trousers. Quickly they switched clothes. "Your speech!" Jimmy cried. "I'm sorry; they took your original away from me and substituted—"
"Not to fear. It is all up here, my friend," Jhon said, tapping his head. "I have not yet been unable to talk myself out of a difficult address. Now…it is time to repair the damage Jhoe has made." Confidently he walked out to the podium.
"Where is the ringleader to all this?" Gibbs said, as he gladly turned Bluto over to the Secret Service.
"Prince Jhoe? Haven't you guessed? If you haven't missed me before this, I'd assume he's at NCIS, pretending to be me. He did that yesterday."
"That explains a lot," Tim groaned.
Gibbs' phone rang. "Yeah, Duck."
"Jethro, where are you? I'm afraid that Jimmy has gone berserk, and is threatening to take Abigail away somewhere!"
"On my way!" Snapping his phone shut, he called out, "Ziva, Palmer—with me. DiNozzo, McGee—see that Prince Jhon finished his speech safely." Ziva and Jimmy had to run to keep up with him.
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Abby was becoming frightened. Jimmy was tall and strong, and although she knew a few self-defense moves, she wasn't sure she could take him down. She was pretty sure she couldn't, in fact. "Jimmy, you're a nice, sweet, guy but—"
"No, no, my lovely. Nothing can come between us!"
"You have a girlfriend!"
"The only woman for me is you! Can you not hear the stars singing our names?"
"My lab is pretty soundproof…"
"You play hard to get, little teaser. I find that endearing. Do not fight what is in your heart, my Ahbby. Soon the royal trumpets shall sound, heralding the news of our wedding! If you like, I can buy you an island as a wedding gift. Would you like to own Hawaii? Or perhaps, Britain?"
She was afraid, and yet, still, a trifle amused. "Would I have to dust it all by myself?"
He roared with laughter. "No, no! That would be beneath your station, my dear! We shall employ hundreds of serfs to do that."
" 'Serfs'? Jimmy, where are you getting all these strange words?"
"He watches a lot of old movies," said a similar voice, and both Abby and 'Jimmy' turned to see the real Jimmy, flanked by Gibbs and Ziva, who had their guns drawn.
"Jimmy?" Abby said, her head swiveling back and forth between the two identical men.
"Not only that," Jimmy continued, "but he really does see his people as serfs. They're a bright lot, in a country with a high standard of living and better cell phone technology than we have, but he's stuck in the Middle Ages."
"Who is he?" Abby demanded.
"Prince Jhoe, second in line to the throne of Rhumbertia," said Gibbs, while Ziva handcuffed the prince.
"But how—why—what—"
"It's a long story," said Jimmy.
"With you, Jimmy, I'm sure it is."
"You cannot hold me! I am of the Royal Family! I have diplomatic immunity!" Jhoe fumed.
"Yes, Your Highness," Gibbs agreed as they sat in a conference room. The handcuffs were off Jhoe, but he was unlikely to get past Gibbs and Ziva. "We're technically not holding you. We're just…keeping you safe here until the Secret Service stops by. They'll be your escorts until you and your bodyguard leave the country tomorrow."
"Do you still have the receipt for the nice necklace you bought Abby?" Ziva asked sweetly. "Perhaps we can return it for you."
"Tell her to keep it," Jhoe said with a sigh. "Perhaps she will come to her senses and visit me one day in Rhumbertia."
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Vance arrived back at NCIS after slipping away from the SECNAV following the end of the crown prince's address. He'd stopped for a bite to eat, but was not in a much better mood.
The first person he ran into was Ducky. "Has that assistant of your been behaving himself today, Doctor Mallard?"
Ducky shook his head wearily, and said, sighing. "It's all so very strange. You have no idea…"
Vance would have mentioned the fact that the crown prince bore a slight resemblance to—but no, that must be all in his mind, and the ME had already moved off. Shrugging, Vance went to his office to tell his secretary that he was going home to get some sleep.
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On the plane the next day, Prince Jhon opened a note that had been handed to him by one of the pleasant Secret Service agents before takeoff.
Hello, Your Highness, Prince Jhon.
You don't know me, but my name is Abby Sciuto. My friend Jimmy Palmer tells me you are a really nice guy.
If you are ever back in DC, I would like to meet you. Without your brother Jhoe.
Sincerely,
Abby
With a smile, Jhon put it away to look at again, and consider, later.
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