Chapter Nine
Showdown at Gideon
"Where's Gideon?" In his gratification at finally having a decent lead, or at least an intelligible answer, Gibbs' question almost comes out as a bark. Fortunately, because he's quasi-military as a Security Supervisor, Edson isn't put out by the force.
"Well, actually that's what we call it because the event'll be like Gideon. It's a prep Conference and walk-through for this Summer's Star Trek Convention."
"Not at the Meritz?" DiNozzo appeals, foreseeing disaster part deux.
"Yep. July 4th weekend."
"And the shits just keep on coming," DiNozzo mutters, glancing past Ziva at McGee in the small office to his left.
"What?" Edson asks.
"Never mind," Gibbs counsels him, glaring DiNozzo to silence. "We need to find Rolonio right now."
"He's staying at the hotel. I'm sure you can catch him there."
xx
Zabeth, her black ground vehicle hidden in the shadows across the street and she being further obscured in her black Kevlar body suit, watches the Federation complex. This set of buildings is a secure residence for Federation personnel living and working in this native city, therefore inaccessible to her.
She doesn't believe Starfleet Intelligence has Rolonio, though they clearly know his location. They've already consulted, clandestinely, with the Captain of the Columbia, now they're meeting Captain Edson, in charge of Security. Something is going on, the level of tension among the Starfleet officers she's been observing is growing steadily.
Her plans, and her orders, have not changed. Reconnoiter, follow, locate the target and dispatch him.
Then, if possible, escape.
She checks the small projectile weapon on her lap. Not as powerful as the other, it is more easily concealed. Fifteen projectiles; it may have to be enough.
xxx
Tina Ambrosino, Assistant Manager, isn't happy to see five NCIS agents, one more than she'd dealt with on Memorial Day Weekend, at the Registration Counter of the Hotel Meritz. She's so unhappy, in fact, that she doesn't bother with a professional welcoming demeanor. "I'd hoped I'd never see you people again."
"Hadn't looked forward to it either," Gibbs assures the woman across the counter.
"I know it wasn't your faults," she grants, "you saved a lot of lives but I still have nightmares about that Convention."
"As do I," Ziva tells her shortly.
"Yes, well..." Ambrosino knows she's been trumped. The woman had been held captive, tortured and nearly electrocuted by a sadistic murderer. She doesn't know that, for Ziva, life has come full circle.
The Greater East Coast Comic Art Convention, held this past Memorial Day weekend, had started out crowded and potentially quite profitable until a naked, bound and dead Batgirl had been found in one of the rooms. The Con had grown intolerable for Ambrosino even before Wonder Woman's nude corpse had so very dramatically fallen down the waste chute into a dumpster cart in the basement.
Before that convention was over two women had died and two required considerable assistance to recover, all from shocking torture. Ziva had kept what she'd experienced as the madman's captive secret from all but her team and they rarely spoke openly about what had been a life-altering experience for her.
x
"We need to speak to one of your guests," Gibbs tells her shortly.
"Do you have a warrant?"
"Don't need one to talk."
Ambrosino considers carefully and very reluctantly. She could deny them, they'd come back with a warrant and she'd have to see them twice. "There won't be any shooting, will there?" The only shot Gibbs fires is his glare. Ambrosino sighs. "What's his name?"
"William Rolonio."
She consults the computer. "He's in room 514."
x
The Agents stand off-line from the door, backs to the wall, in case Zabeth has already found her target. Gibbs raps sharply. "William Rolonio?" He can hear movement within, followed by a tentative inquiry. "NCIS. We'd like to speak with you."
William Rolonio is five foot nine, thin with a shock of brown hair rumpled as through from sleep. Rather than a Starfleet Commodore's uniform, he wears jeans, a 'Celtic Woman' tee shirt and a bemused expression as he takes in his five visitors. "Yes?"
xx
"Incredible," is all he can say when the agents have completed explaining the problem. "Liz can be a bit ... enthusiastic when it comes to the unusual, but I never imagined this."
"You never recognized she has," Gibbs glances to his team, unable to recall what Ducky had called it.
"Schizotypal Personality Disorder?" DiNozzo saves.
"I knew sometimes she got really into it, the fantasy world we skim; I just felt she was really into role-play, more so than me. I admit, sometimes, it made me a bit uncomfortable. It's a game, a way to have fun, but sometimes she took it a bit far, a bit more seriously than most."
"That why you broke up with her?"
Rolonio is puzzled. "We didn't break up. Who told you that?"
"Her sister Carolyn, after reading Elizabeth's diary."
"We're more on a 'time out' while I sort out some things, like just where we are. And apparently who," he muses, a new and unpleasant aspect of their relationship to consider.
Gibbs glances about the room where the six sit on chairs, the bed or, in DiNozzo's case, stand by the door. However, despite the intended purpose as headquarters for a planning session and base for a walk-through of the hotel facilities by the Convention Planning Committee, it's just a hotel room as mundane as Elizabeth Stillwell's room is exotic.
"How does she feel about this 'time out'?"
"Well, she didn't agree but I had to. I always knew she had ... problems but it's been getting a little much. There were times I'm talking to her and I'm not ... entirely sure who I'm talking to."
"You met Zabeth?" DiNozzo asks.
"Not the way you mean. I mean I know she calls herself Zabeth in her role-play with the other Romulans in her group, but she ... I never knew her to take it too ... far." He's evidently beginning to appreciate, from their unsettling explanation of how his life is in danger, how far she's taking it. "I never knew there was a 'Zabeth', not in the way you people mean. I mean, this is, well, we have hobby lives we enjoy. My position in the organization has more responsibility, the other Captains too, if we're to accomplish anything."
"Like this convention?"
"We've met a couple of times, we're meeting at 7:00 to go over the last of the details."
It's 5:23. "Elizabeth knows this schedule?"
"Of course."
"Turn them away."
"This is crazy. Look, I can understand that, compared to terrorism and a hundred other '-isms', this must seem strange, maybe even, to some, a little foolish, but it's a hobby, really. None of us take things too ... far."
"Zabeth does," Ziva points out, not letting him get away from reality in excuses for fantasy. Rolonio's discomfort is out for everyone to see, but he's going to be a lot more uncomfortable when this hobby gets him attacked. "Elizabeth Stillwell thinks little enough of this 'time out' that she thinks you betrayed her. She cannot deal with it and confront you so Zabeth has come out to deal with what Elizabeth cannot, and she is going to kill you."
Laid out so baldly, there's little more Rolonio can do to explain away or justify the situation. He turns to Gibbs. "What can I do?"
"Let her catch you."
xxx
If Gibbs' solution had astonished Rolonio, it'd stunned his team. When he'd outlined his plan - as much as he outlined any plan in advance - they were no more confident. Then when he'd summoned Ducky Mallard and Jimmy Palmer, and ordered Agent Watson to bring Carolyn Stillwell to Ground Zero before assuming a defensive position out in the corridor, they could only hope it would succeed.
"Understand," Ducky's voice isn't loud but he keeps his audience's attention fixed, "if we are going to bring this unhappy affair to a peaceable conclusion, your normal methods of dealing with perpetrators will not work."
"Had that when I called you in," Gibbs reminds him.
"Yes, well normally I would expect you to employ your usual method of gaining compliance through an overwhelming display of firepower."
"If you mean surrounding her with Sigs, yeah."
"That is the very thing you must not do." If Gibbs is put out, he doesn't show it. "I've been analyzing Miss Stillwell's message and consulting with my resident expert on all things Trekkian," he gives a half-nod to Jimmy Palmer, who has the wisdom not to look smug. "If this message to 'execute Commodore Rolonio' is an order rather than a memorandum, then this will fall under a Romulan's well-developed sense of Duty." He makes sure everyone can hear the capital.
"If this is so, Elizabeth Stillwell's self-induced compulsion can best be equated to the ancient Samurai. Zabeth will be compelled to obey this order - to fulfill her mission - even at the negligible expense of her life."
x
Carolyn Stillwell protests the most strenuously at this, yet neither Ducky nor Gibbs is willing to let the situation devolve.
"My dear, you are our best resource in this," the doctor assures Stillwell when the volume of protests reaches a reasonable level. "No matter how subsumed your sister is by Zabeth, you are her sister. You will, therefore, exist somewhere in her universe."
"Just like we all fit into the 'Elf Lord' world," Gibbs concludes, a private reminder to his team of details he has no intention of sharing. This past Fall, as long as the Agents and Chaplain O'Mallory had conformed to McGee's delusion, which had been brought on by an accidental head injury, they'd had a measure of control, however tenuous, over his delusion and the life-or-death conflict it evoked. "You might be seen as yourself. I hope so."
"What do you mean?" Carolyn asks with renewed apprehension.
It's Ducky who provides a more complete answer. "In a previous encounter not dissimilar to this," he avoids glancing at McGee, "the subject in question perceived those he knew within the framework of his delusion. Those he was familiar with were perceived as established characters in his delusion, those individuals he did not know were gradually integrated into the fantasy yet always appearing to him in a Medieval setting. Thus I believe Mister Rolonio will be perceived in his 'Starfleet Commodore' persona, complete with uniform and accoutrements. We, being unknown to Zabeth, may well be perceived as Starfleet confederates of the Commodore. Have you ever been identified in the context of her fantasy?"
"..."
"My dear, if you have, we need to know."
"Well, we were girls, you see. We were kids." Embarrassment turns to defensiveness as she meets their eyes. "It's a 40 year old show! I was a child when 'Next Generation' came on. Our parents grew up watching–!"
"Yes." He doesn't mean to embarrass her, just to learn.
"Well, okay. I used to ... used to ... be a Vulcan. T'Racy." She catches Jimmy's expression. "I was a kid just discovering boys!"
"Palmer."
"I didn't say any–"
"Please," Ducky appeals. The last thing he needs is for Jethro and Mister Palmer to go at this now; and he notices Agent McGee uncomfortable expression and recalls the man's fiancé had been tagged by Abby with that unfortunate nickname during a 'Girls' Night Out' at Club Starbase 86 during the hunt for John DeKalb. He prays this endeavor meets with better success. "You were saying, my dear?"
"I was saying that as we grew up we played different roles but we grew up! Yes, I was a Starship Captain once but I'm a Navy Ensign, a junior Officer on a real Aircraft Carrier that just happens to be named 'Enterprise' and now this fantasy world is going to get my sister killed."
"We have no intention of allowing that to happen," Ducky promises her.
"I wish I'd never found that journal. I wish I'd never come to you people."
"That would not have been a satisfactory alternative."
"No. Okay," Carolyn admits with shuddering breath, "so, what do I do?"
The window to her left shatters and a Romulan rolls in.
x
Zabeth rolls out and to her feet, weapon poised in outstretched arms. She's a blonde panther, Kevlar body suit molding to her as a sensuous second skin, helmet hair style emulating the real thing sharp upon her head.
The agents would have wished for her to be holding an inert mock phaser, but they're confronted by a Beretta 9mm full automatic pistol as black as the neck-to-foot body armor.
Zabeth's startling arrival made the agents revert to training and five guns converge upon the woman within their circle. The outer door opens quickly, Agent Watson's own Sig is poised but she holds, waiting for clearance to fire. Gibbs, in the first second, grabbed Rolonio, yanked him past, and he and DiNozzo closed the gap. Shoulder to shoulder, they block the Operative's aim.
Startled, Ducky had quickly moved out of the 'kill zone' and reverses, comes back in behind the deluded woman in an attempt to shield Carolyn. Jimmy steps beside his wife, intending to back her up without a gun, shoulder to shoulder in front of Carolyn Stillwell. Ducky joins them beside Jimmy. McGee and David, on opposite sides of the intruder, close ranks with Gibbs and DiNozzo in front of Rolonio.
McGee cannot help but think of how much this reminds him of the dénouement of 'That Which Survives', and reads in Palmer's eyes, past Elizabeth Stillwell, that he's probably thinking the same thing.
All this happened in the first two seconds so by the time Zabeth is on her feet and confronting her opposition, she is already cut off from her target.
Zabeth tries to shift to the side, to maneuver into a firing position, to shoot past the four agents and a shrill scream distracts her.
"LIZ, DON'T DO IT!" Carolyn cries.
The Romulan looks back, sees a Vulcan Starfleet Ensign her sister between the tall man and short woman, both Starfleet Security Officers. They're standing in front of the Vulcan Ensign her sister she yells something from between them.
"LIZ, don't! You don't want to hurt him!"
Zabeth blinks and, just for an instant the uniforms are gone, then back, but for that instant the loud Ensign was her sister.
Confusion makes her hesitate. Her sister isn't – she doesn't have a – she can't be here – there is no sis–! Vulcans are pacifist branches of Romulans, but she doesn't have a sister, certainly not a Vulcan - who yells in high panicked voice.
"Let's all calm down," Gibbs advises, slowly lowering his Sig.
The Starfleet Intelligence Officer she'd spared at her cover occupation facility lowers his phaser.
The grey-haired man in the black jacket bearing a gold badge emblem lowers his gun.
What is–?
x
Gibbs is mindful of Ducky's advice that their usual tactic could have the opposite effect, that of escalating the crisis rather than overwhelming it. DiNozzo and the others lower their guns but won't put them away.
Carolyn shoves through Jimmy and Michelle and flings her arms wide to block the trio behind her. "Liz, listen to me! This isn't you!"
Zabeth seems to not hear her. Reading her eyes, the Agents see she's included Watson at the open door and is planning how to take out all 10 targets before she dies.
McGee, between Gibbs and DiNozzo, gives a hard, two sentence command that makes Zabeth turn to the four agents shielding Rolonio, blink and hesitate.
"McGeeeee."
"'By Order of the Praetor, cease hostilities. You will not kill this man'."
Zabeth's answer is clipped and brief. Gibbs doesn't like the blank look that lights McGee's eyes. "Talk to me, McGee."
"I'm sorry, boss, I could only study a couple dozen phrases."
x
What is happening? The Starfleet Intelligence Operative cannot speak for the Praetor, but who is McGeeeee?
x
"Liz, listen to me! Look at me!" Zabeth's looks back over her shoulder to the Vulcan Ensign. A Vulcan so urgent, so nearly frantic? To her sister? She has no sister - no Vulcan sister - her sister...
The Vulcan stands in the open, blocking her would-be protectors with spread arms. "Liz, you are not a Romulan." Zabeth turns from the desperate woman, back to her target and sidesteps, seeking a better angle to her target. The Operatives shift to the right, tighten their shield.
x
"LISTEN to me!" Carolyn's commend makes Zabeth look back. "You are Elizabeth Randy Stillwell. You live at–" Liz barks something in Romulan, Carolyn ignores it. "Elizabeth, you're my sister!" Zabeth turns to the shielded Commodore, glances back. "I'm your sister. You live in Burleith, Washington DC. You're a Real Estate Agent. This is Earth, twenty-first century Earth. You're not in the Tal Shiar. Bill's not a Commodore and you do not want to kill him!"
She turns back to Rolonio and the humans who would die for him, straightens her aim. "My orders are–"
"There are no orders!" Zabeth looks back again at the loud human. No, Vulcan. No, she's hum– "You're not a Romulan, you're a Real Estate Agent! Bill's a Florist! There's no Starfleet, no Federation, no Empire! I'm your sister. Carolyn." This time Zabeth turns to her, uncertain, her weapon wavers, this time pointing to the blonde woman who would interfere... "Remember? Carolyn? Carolyn Stillwell. You are Elizabeth Randy Stillwell."
Zabeth is even more uncertain. Things don't make... They aren't clear...
"You're human. This is the twenty-first century!"
Twenty-first? No, it's the - it's the...
"You're not a Tal Shiar Agent. You're my sister! Elizabeth. You're–"
"Carolyn?" Elizabeth's voice is tiny. Zabeth is confused, uncertain. Why did she say that? What world is this? What world is she in?
"Yes," The blonde Vulcan woman – human woman – takes a slow step forward, Zabeth steps back, outflanked. She looks quickly around, trapped and outflanked, three sides, exit blocked, shattered window five stories up, tries to keep all ten targets in sight.
x
Gibbs' eyes on his team tells them 'hold back'. Any motion can undo Stillwell's progress.
"Liz, it's me. Carolyn. Your sister."
"I do not have a ... You're Vulcan. I have no Vulcan …. Carolyn?" She's even more uncertain, half dazed. It feels as though she's coming out of a dream. Two worlds. Two realities. Which is...?
"Yes."
"Carrie?" She remembers Carrie. Doesn't she? Does she? Carrie's not a Vulcan. This woman – familiar – isn't Vulcan, she's….
"Yes! Carrie." Carolyn steps closer, cautiously reaches out. The gun doesn't waver as she takes it in both her hands.
Zabeth can't give up her weapon. She should fire. She has to fire! But …. Carrie….
"You're Carrie?"
"Yes. You're Liz, I'm Carrie, that's all that's real."
"Carrie?"
x
Carolyn eases her hands up Elizabeth's arms, steps closer, widening her sister's arms, draws the confused woman to her, hugs her. Michelle, at Gibbs' nod, steps forward slowly, cautiously, slips the gun from Elizabeth's loose grip, pushes the safety on.
Carolyn just hugs her sister.
Ducky pulls a plastic bottle from his pocket, signals Jimmy toward the bathroom for some water. The agents put away their Sigs.
DiNozzo inches closer to McGee as they're left behind; Rolonio, Gibbs and Ziva joining the sisters. He keeps his voice low so only McTrekker may hear. "Bet this is one story that won't make it into your books, McGuffin."
"Why not, Tony?"
"No climax."
Tim keeps his eyes on the hugging sisters as Ducky and Jimmy approach with Elizabeth's medicine.
"Just the way I like it."
xxx
Midnight. Three hours have passed. Elizabeth has long ago been relieved of her concealed weapons by Ziva and Michelle, a length of electrical wire crossed under one cup of her bra and an ampoule of epinephrine concealed under the other. What this latter, and the needle in the waistband of her biking shorts, are intended to be in the woman's confused mind no one wants to consider. Abby, at her lab, has already called and pronounced them non-lethal, that's enough for the agents.
All save Gibbs and Ducky have long since retired for the night. Tomorrow - today now - none of them are on duty. It's Saint Patrick's Day and there's a somewhat uncommon celebration to prepare for in only fifteen hours.
Gibbs and Rolonio stand up from the bench in the Bethesda's white corridor when Ducky comes out of the hospital room. "How is she, Duck?"
"I'm very pleased to report a happy ending. Ensign Stillwell is with her sister, the young lady is lucid," he glances at Rolonio, "and rather embarrassed, contritely hoping Mr. Rolonio will be understanding."
Bill nods. "We have a lot to talk about." He steps past the Medical Examiner who has revealed to no one how happy he is to have a live patient tonight, enters the room and Gibbs and Ducky are quite content to leave the sterile hospital.
'One happy ending down,' Ducky thinks as he and Gibbs head down the corridor, 'and one more to go.'