Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.
Chapter 3 - Fathers
"G!" the exclamation fell from Sam's lips rather unexpectedly. He was an excellent agent and therefore extremely good at keeping his feeling contained, but G just rattled him in every possible way – he had never had a more irritable, accident-prone, unfortunate, short-sighted, careless and brilliant partner before. He gritted his teeth and tried to appear more angry than worried when he walked in G's hospital room.
"Sam, I'm fine," G said automatically and continued buttoning the new shirt he'd managed to sweet-talk a nurse into buying for him in the hospital store.
"You've got a concussion and broken ribs, G," Sam diagnosed after a quick over-all look at G.
"You know my head's harder than that and the ribs are just bruised," G replied.
Before Sam could say something in turn – most likely something with a healthy dose of anger – a doctor walked in. "Here's you AMA form, Mr. Callen," he said handing the forms and a pen.
"You're not signing out," Sam said, his eyes narrowed and he briefly considered handcuffing G to the bed when G reached out for the forms.
"I'm fine, Sam," G said in a well-rehearsed tone and signed the documents.
Sensing that there was someone else who agreed with his medical opinion, the doctor hastened to say more, "All concussions are serious even the mild ones, Mr. Callen. If you leave the hospital you have to check back in a few days and those fractured ribs need medical attention as well..."
"You said 'bruised' G," Sam remarked in a dark tone, interrupting the doctor.
"And be careful, because if you get hit hard again – your spleen might tear or worse rupture. You really should stay here a while longer," the doctor continued.
G just rolled his eyes, handed the form back to the doctor and stood. He breathed shallowly so that the urge to wince wouldn't be stronger. "I'm fine," he repeated. The words seemed more familiar than his own name. He winced. Sometimes the fact that he had no name blindsided him like a truck from a rarely used service-road.
Sam hated sounding like a nagging chick, but sometimes there just was no other way to get through to G. And sometimes there was. If Sam was a more vindictive guy, he would have chuckled evilly at the thought. "Tell that to Hetty," he muttered.
G who was already at the door didn't hesitate in informing Sam that, "I heard that!"
"Good," Sam replied and followed him out the door.
The doctor feeling altogether unsatisfied at how the situation had turned out also left the room, shrugged his disappointment off and went to inform the nurses that patient from room 324 had left and that the room needed to be cleaned and prepared for the next idiot.
NCISXNCIS:LA
Sam winced when G sat his muddy, bloody, LA street-sweeping ass in the leather seat of his car. Except for the shirt (and Sam had an inkling how G had gotten his hands on that) G looked like road-kill. He sighed, but didn't say anything. He also resisted the urge to ask G one more time if he was okay.
"It's okay. Promise," G said without even thinking about the words. The reassurances fell from his lips with a practiced ease. "Now, let's get to work. I need a change of clothes."
Sam frowned, but decided to adhere to the old saying that silence is golden. He turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the parking lot in front of the hospital. He took a left turn on the street and kept a careful eye on his surroundings. "Eric said that your accident wasn't an accident."
G lowered the backrest of his seat a little so it'd be easier for him to sit up. "I had the same idea. He found a camera there?"
"Convenient store on the corner," Sam replied keeping his eyes on the street.
"Anything identifiable from the footage?"
"Yeah, a passenger. It was an up-start gang hit. Anything you wanna tell me G?" now Sam did spare a glance to look at G.
G frowned and thought for a moment. "No, not particularly."
"Ok," Sam said agreeably.
The silence that followed didn't last long. "Except... What's with my bike? Nobody at the hospital knew and I don't really remember much after crashing – did the SUV ride over it or is it okay?"
Sam gripped the wheel tighter. "It's in evidence lock-up and it's smashed FUBAR. No way you're getting on that thing again."
G looked at Sam and saw straight through his partner. "Guess I'll just have to buy a new one..."
"G!" Sam growled in warning, but didn't get to say more, because G's phone which had been in the breast pocket of his leather jacket (which the same nurse who bought him shirt had dumped in the bin) had miraculously survived the accident.
G frowned at the unknown number and indicated Sam to be silent. "Yeah," he said picking up the phone.
"Hello, son," was the reply on the other end.
Unsure what this was about G did what he did best, he went along with it. "Hi, Dad," he greeted right back looking at Sam with expression that conveyed his confusion. Sam pulled over and looked right back; he was concerned. Again. G put the call on speaker.
"You're in danger," the man on the other end continued.
"One can drown in a bowl of soup, Dad. Danger is overrated," G replied. "Unless of course you want to tell me something I don't know?"
"Your past is catching up with you and so with me and everyone who's near to you."
"Come on, Dad, past is the past. What's with it?" he replied flippantly in complete opposite to his actual feelings on the subject.
"I have to go."
"Wait, Dad, reunion's no reunion without coffee. How about we meet n greet?"
"I'm sorry, son, I can't speak more at the moment. I'll call you again. I'll explain everything – as much as I know, anyway. I know you don't believe me now, but please – be careful – that's all I ask."
"Dad..." G called out, but the call was already terminated on the other end. "Fuck."
"G..." Sam started tentatively.
"I don't know him, Sam. Never heard the guy before, I think," G replied tiredly.
"Do you think it's your father?" he asked. It didn't matter that the likelihood of that being so was one against millions; what mattered to Sam was what G thought about it.
"Probably not," G said quickly. "Maybe." The 'I just don't know' wasn't spoken, but was understood.
"Right," Sam powered the car up again. "Let's get to Ops Center. Kensi's probably back and maybe Eric's found something new. Besides you need a change of clothes."
"Hey, the shirt is new. It cost me twenty bucks," G protested.
"The shirt is the only thing that's new in that seat, and I bet that ten of that twenty went for the service," Sam replied with half a smile finally appearing on his face.
G just rolled his eyes.
NCISXNCIS:LA
Meanwhile in the Ops Center Eric was happily typing away and monitoring several programs at a time, and completely in his own element when something beeped. He frowned and slid his chair to monitor few paces away to check the disturbance. It was an activity report from one of the crawler bots that he had on the Net. It was designed to look for specific keywords and notify when found. He clicked to read the report.
The further he read, the more he frowned. Finally he grabbed the keyboard and started typing. The pace of his fingers on the keyboard was directly proportional to the amount of frowning and muttering that he did. A few seconds later the computer beeped again and this time it was a small, single message informing him that there's been a server malfunction and all data has been lost. Eric cursed filthily and from the bottom of his heart just as Hetty walked in the Ops Center.
"Something the matter Mr. Beal?"
Eric turned to face Hetty. "Yes, one of the bots on the Net that I have just ran across keyword '' which means that a file with those specific letters has been opened that hasn't been open before, because everything else has been vetoed and the most I got is that the file was on a government server and that it was a closed court file. I can try to recover some info about who wanted it open, but the digital file itself is gone with all the information detailing it so I doubt there's a way to identify it to recover the physical evidence. There was some trigger virus in the file opening sequence and it crashed the entire server the file was on – everything there is just gone," Eric spoke quickly barely drawing a breath. Then he breathed a deeply.
"Do what you can to find out who else wanted a look at this file and anything else you may recover," Hetty instructed calmly. "And do remember to breathe, Eric."
"Yes, Hetty," he replied obediently, still inwardly cursing at himself for not being more careful in following up with the report. Things like this didn't happen to him!
He spun in his chair and his fingers were already flying over the keyboard. He would find out how the files erased, who else opened them and all in all he would dig up every shred and bit of data that was left over even if he had to search in every back-up log and system in the country to come up with something, anything.
Finding out who else had been snooping around – and what a relief it was to realize that it wasn't just his mucking about that raised the red flags in the file encryption – was surprisingly easy. By the time Sam, G and Kensi walked in the Ops Center together – he already had good news to go with the bad ones.
He let Kensi speak first. She told them that, yeah, somebody was definitely using the bar as a hang-out and that there was an SUV parked two blocks away that approximately matched the stills from the camera footage and had a smashed right headlight, and fresh scrapes on paint and the grill that it could be the same car from the accident. She didn't have anything more.
Then Eric told them his story. "But!" he exclaimed after he told them about the total data loss. "While it'll take a while..."
"Define 'a while'," Sam interrupted.
"Several hours," Eric replied. "Possibly until the morning," he added a moment later. "Anyway, while it'll take a while for my program to scrape together what's left of the file, I did find out who helped me to trip the wire on the file. It was us!" seeing the confused faces around him, he hastened to explain more. "Not me-us, but us-us. NCIS. The headquarters in DC to be precise. I've no idea what they were looking for – unauthorized at that," he left out the part that he didn't have an official authorization to peek in those files either, "but it was both of us snooping around there together that triggered the hidden domino-type complete crash-down virus which was nothing special and if I'd just known it was there..." Eric scrunched his face and clenched his fist to emphasize his feelings on the matter. It just rankled him that he'd been so blindsided by it that by the time he'd reacted there had been almost nothing he could do.
"It's okay, Eric," Sam placated.
"Do you think it has to do with your...," Kensi paused unsure how to phrase correctly what happened to G in the morning.
"You don't?" G asked her right back. "What interests me is what's DC' interest in all this," he bit his lip thinking fast. "Ok, I'll go inform Hetty – if this is about me personally, she'll want to speak to Vance in private. Eric – those gang-bangers would have to have been paid; check if there's a paper trail. Sam, Kensi – you have just acquired a desirable person to kill in an accidental way. Find out how much it would cost."
Sam didn't look happy at having to go, but if he couldn't trust Hetty and Eric to push G around to take it easy then he supposed he should have stuck with his first plan of handcuffing G to hospital bed. He nodded at Kensi and they went.
G leaned against the large table in the middle of the Op Center and took a couple of shallow breaths. Standing upright hurt. Speaking a lot hurt too.
"You have to remember to breathe," Eric advised smartly echoing Hetty's earlier words to him.
G snorted at that.
NCISXNCIS:LA
"Gibbs… You want to explain to me why I got a call from the NCIS OSP Operations Manager in LA asking me what is my interest in their Special Agent in Charge?" Vance asked politely. He was always polite after all, that didn't mean that he wasn't pissed though. As a Director he didn't like not being informed about the cases his teams were working on and Gibbs as a rule forgot to tell him things on regular basis.
"No idea, Director," Gibbs replied truthfully.
"So you probably also have no idea how an entire server with archived and sealed court cases of the New York Supreme Court crashed?"
"Server?" Gibbs blinked pretending to understand less than he did.
"Gibbs, I want a straight answer. What are you working on?"
"A case of black-mail on Navy personnel," Gibbs promptly replied. After all as an NCIS agent Tony was Navy personnel, technically anyway and even though his father was dead - blackmail is blackmail.
"And what's that got to do with Callen?" Vance asked suddenly longing for a toothpick to chew on.
"As far as I know, nothing, sir," Gibbs replied with the same unerring and annoying honesty as before.
"Then I suggest you find out or I will give Hetty your number next time she has any questions," Vance said and there was no humor in his tone when he presented his threat. Hetty might be his subordinate, but he did not want another conversation where he had to defend his inquiry on her agent especially when he had no idea that there WAS an inquiry in the first place.
"Will do, Director."
Somehow Gibbs' cooperation irritated the Director even more. "And then you'll explain to her what this is all about. And I don't have to tell you to hurry up – I hear another SUV took a go at Callen this morning."
"Is he alright?" Gibbs asked, his demeanor changing instantly.
"No," Vance replied frankly. "But he's up and about as usual," he said relaxing back into his chair.
Gibbs nodded and taking that as the end of the conversation, turned on his heel and left.
NCISXNCIS:LA
"Hello, Walter," Tony grinned a big, white shit-eating grin.
"Anthony," the man greeted in return, though his expression conveyed that he'd rather be shaking hands with homeless people and risk getting fleas.
"Long time no see, huh?" Tony shamelessly sprawled in the expensive leather couch that adorned the waiting room before Walter's no doubt impressive office; after all, Walter was the XO of his father.
"What do you want, Anthony?" Walter asked straight to the point. "The lawyers informed me that you signed everything away so what is this… You realized what you lost and want to…"
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…," Tony interrupted the man. He extended his hand and rudely pointed with his finger, "It's you who thinks that this is the answer to every question ever asked. Me? No. No. No, no, no, no, no… No - has a nice ring to it, don't you think? No, no, no, no, no…"
Walter gritted his teeth and walked past DiNozzo. "If you don't mind…," he walked up to his office doors and unlocked them. "Some of us have work to do," he was just about to walk in when DiNozzo moved faster than Walter would have expected and pushed him forward through the door and followed before closing the door and turning the lock.
"I do mind," Tony grinned again leaning against the locked door as if he didn't have a care in the world.
Walter's face scrunched up in annoyance. "Unlock the door or I'll call security. I don't care what the hell you want."
"But I am security!" Tony protested and dug into his breast pocket brandishing his shield. "See? Federal agent!" He pocketed his license and the grin still hadn't left his face. "Besides I'm DiNozzo and papa's dead. I bet you didn't tell them yet the happy news lawyers gave you. Nobody's going to lift a finger."
"Are you threatening me?" Walter asked outraged.
"No!" Tony laughed. "Not yet, anyway," he added a moment later.
Walter backed further into the office and went to the cabinet to pour himself a shot of whiskey. "What do you want?"
"Well, a glass of what you're having won't be a bad start," Tony replied.
Walter glared, but poured Tony a shot too. He drew the line at handing the glass though. He took his and backed to his desk. He felt more in control of the situation when he sat down in his expensive leather chair that was ergonomically suited especially to him and cost what some people earned in a month.
Tony threw a glance at the glass and shrugged. "Your hospitality sucks," he took it and dropped in a chair on the opposite side of the massive desk.
Walter was annoyed at the constant misdirection. "You always were an air-headed clown," he muttered before downing his drink. "Why are you here?"
"I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed. "You don't want to catch up with a son of an old and regrettably deceased colleague?"
"Even your father didn't want to catch up with you. Why the hell should I?"
"You're a world of hurt today, you know that?" Tony asked deliberately slowly blinking and making huge teary eyes at Walter. His goal was to get the man so unbalanced and angry that when Tony finally got to the point that he'd get his answer. After all, he'd managed to irritate the Director of Mossad into confession in his own interrogation so who was Walter?
Walter gritted his teeth. "Unlike you I have a company to run. Tell me what the hell you want so I can get rid of you."
Tony put one of his legs over another and just got more comfortable in the chair. "Tell me… There's one thing I've always wondered about…"
When the silence stretched, Walter broke and asked sharply, "What?"
Tony ignored the tone. "You see, my Dad's not the type to have friends so you can't claim to have been best buds with him or anything. You're not a relative or a dog shelter either – though he did promise to donate some to them which it turns out he hasn't – imagine the man? He took a candy or dry food, or canned… I'm not sure what dogs eat, anyway, he dangled a bone and took it away from poor, starving puppies, I'm so glad I don't have to call the man…"
"Is there a point somewhere Anthony?"
Walter looked ready to strangle him, but Tony didn't feel like he'd gone far enough, so he continued. "I'm trying to be subtle," he remarked. "See, I know a lot about 'don't ask – don't tell' since I work for NCIS and all, so were you and my Dad lovers? 'Cause you know – then I just have to ask, because he always seemed to have something permanently lodged in his… Did one your games get carried away a little too far? Or rather deep…"
Tony dived out of his chair to avoid the glass that Walter threw at him. "You - insolent, useless, little brat! Your father was right to disown you! You and your mother were nothing, but constant problems. If you'd know how many times I had to listen about 'that whore this' and 'that whore that', and 'that brat…', I deserve this company, because I kept it going. I! While your father was busy with his little revenge routines and courts, and other lowlifes it was I who took care of the corporate. The company is mine and nothing here is for you. I don't care what you want. You are leaving! NOW!" Walter roared at the end of his rant.
Tony scrambled to his legs. "Tell me more," he teased. "Is that a yes or a no?"
"I'll kill you!" Walter shot up on his legs and barreled towards Tony as an infuriated bull, but even though the man's bulk was rather massive and his height similar to Tony's – it took Tony exactly three seconds to twist Walter's arms and slam the man face first into the closest wall.
"Now that you've threatened and assaulted a federal agent, we can talk," Tony said calmly and pushed Walter harder against the wall to emphasize his point.
There was foam on Walter's mouth. Tony saw it and grimaced. Disgusting.
"I don't know anything," Walter said immediately.
"Oh, but you just admitted that you know quite a lot and unless you want me to put you under arrest, take you to the Navy Yard and place in a cell with nastiest sons of bitches I can find – you're gonna tell me everything," Tony grinned, though Walter couldn't see it – what with his face pressed into a wall.
"That's blackmail. It's illegal!" Walter protested.
Tony drew breath noisily. "I believe in your line of business it's called leverage."
Walter grumbled and Tony pushed him against the wall again to make him decide quicker.
"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you what I know, just let me go."
"Awesome!" Tony released Walter and backed away only to drop comfortably back in the chair. "Spill."
Walter shrugged and adjusted his shirt's collar. "What do you want to know?"
"I want to know everything you know about my brother."
NCISXNCIS:LA
It was late. Eric's program was still running. Hetty said that as soon as DC will have anything to say – they'll speak up. Sam and Kensi came back without much to report – the gang had been too preoccupied with something to even consider their offer, they'd been turned out on their asses. Apparently the fact that G was still breathing had them scared – whether from law enforcement or their client, was yet to be figured out. All in all the day was over.
G lounged on the couch. He was waiting for Sam to finish up – Sam had insisted on giving him a ride home, and he was bored. Then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was the same number as before. He frowned and picked up the call. "Hiya, Dad."
The man on the other end sighed. "I know you're just humoring me, but it's damn good to hear you call me that."
"Well, Dad, it's good to hear from you again too," G easily fell in conversation. It was harder to rise from the couch with his busted ribs, but he managed it without making any audible noise. Then he hurried to the Ops Center.
"I can't speak for long."
G tapped Eric on the shoulder and motioned at his phone. Eric understood and immediately set up a trace.
"Come on, Dad. It's been long time no see. We should catch up."
"I know you're attempting to trace the call now. I need to speak with you in private."
"If you know that much, then you must know that that's not how it works," G said.
The man on the other end sighed, again. "I don't trust anyone!" he said, obviously stressed. "If there's anyone you trust – anyone you'd trust with your life, you may take them with you, but just one. Don't tell anyone else. You've got no idea how big this is."
"Okay," G agreed easily. "Tell me more."
"No," the man disagreed. "Later. I'll call you again."
Eric motioned that he needed more time to fully trace the call.
"Well, this is all very secretive. Tell me your name, at least. Who are you?" G stalled.
"I'm your Dad. No matter what and if you ever… I'm your Dad, no matter what, just know that. I have to go," and the call was just dropped.
It took G a full second to realize that the beeping sound meant that the call was over. He turned his gaze to Eric who winced and regretfully shook his head.
"Sorry. The program needed more time," he said. "Who was that?"
G stared at nothing in particular not sure how to react. "My father," he replied. "I think."
NCISXNCIS:LA
"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed nearly dropping the keyboard that she was holding above McGee's head while McGee tried to reconnect all the wires on the computer.
"Abby... "
"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed again stalling.
Gibbs frowned. "Abby."
"Done!" McGee shouted and Abby hurriedly booted the computer and started talking fast at the same time.
"You see I, well, McGee and I found that while DiNozzo Evil Master-Mind appears to be clean on the outside – not everything that's clean shines, or.. I think it was not all that's gold shines. Anyway, he's not golden at all. I found sealed court cases that feature his name, but McGee tripped a deletion sequence when we opened it, so I really don't have much...," she finally took a deep breath.
Gibbs didn't say anything. He looked at Abby knowing that she'd know to get on with it.
"But I do have something! You're like psychic, Gibbs!" she grinned at him and put the keyboard on nearest flat surface so that she could type with all her fingers.
She put an additional program running before putting on display what was it that she knew. "You see, the data from the server is completely lost – I mean if we had computer power like nobody's business or ..." she caught Gibbs' gaze ".. or funding, but we don't so it's just what my genius and McGee can find."
"Hey!" McGee spoke up protesting.
"It's okay, we love you anyway," Abby replied. "Now while the court file is a dead end, we managed to find a paper trail, because, you know, DiNozzo EMM would need a lawyer, it's not like he'd represent himself, and he'd probably need a special lawyer not a company one – because I doubt the juicy court files with viruses are about corporate secrets."
"Actually, corporates are very protective of their secrets," McGee interjected.
Abby glared at him. They'd had enough setbacks as it was during this investigation. She wanted to find Tony's brother almost as much as Tony did and she wasn't letting anyone cast a shadow of doubt on any lead of hers. "But this has nothing to do with that! We dug up DiNozzo EMM's personal finance history up to the time he was conceived and there's a lot of dubious transactions and while we're not sure about most of them – I did find one that leads to a high-end lawyer that specializes in family laws."
"So that vanished file – that has anything to do with a crashed server?" Gibbs asked.
Abby bit her lip. She'd hoped that when she got to the good news part, Gibbs would have forgotten about the beginning. She should have known better.
"Which one?" McGee asked, before Abby could do damage-control.
"There are several?"
Abby nearly winced at the tone. And then she whacked McGee at the back of his head with a folded lab report.
"What was that for?" McGee asked more surprised than hurt.
Abby glared at him and McGee got the message fast. "Yeah, Gibbs... You see the court server is totally not out fault. Someone else was in there with us – I'm having a program running, it'll find out who, and for the other... You don't really want to know," Abby said.
"I don't?"
"Plausible deniability, Gibbs," she replied with straight face.
Gibbs was silent for a moment more just to make Abby sweat a little. He really didn't want to know more about the inner workings of her information-gathering or what piece of hardware got hurt in the way. "Give me the current address and name of that lawyer," he finally said a minute later.
Abby grinned, relieved, "Right away, Gibbs!"
NCISXNCIS:LA
Coming back from the friendly visit he paid to Walter, Tony ran into Gibbs. Literally. He winced and apologized, glad he hadn't spilled the coffee. He hadn't ran into Gibbs like this for years.
"Abby found something," Gibbs said composing himself and walking to their bullpen, not waiting for Tony to catch up.
"Already?" Tony asked lengthening his stride to catch up with Gibbs. "I gave her all the info I had just barely two hours ago. And I didn't have much. I never knew much about my parents."
Gibbs stopped and turned on his heel in the middle of their bullpen. Ziva hung up the phone and Tony stopped suddenly as not to run into his boss again.
"What you've got?" Gibbs asked to both of them and Ziva jumped to answer.
"Alright, before Abby retrieved McGee for …," she paused unsure how to put into words the fact that Abby had dragged McGee by the sleeve of his shirt (and almost by the ear too) away frantically saying something about viruses and servers, "something; he already had a file on Eames Rogers. Perhaps he can.."
"McGee's busy. Give me the basics."
"Alright. Eames Rogers was the younger of two sons of Joseph and Julianne Rogers. He had an older brother named Arthur. Joseph and Julianne died in a sailing accident when Eames was fourteen. He was raised by his brother who had been 19 at the time of their parents deaths. Arthur Rogers inherited his father's pharmaceutical company. Eames Rogers became a doctor – a general surgeon," Ziva recited glancing at the file in her hands. "Their family estate in North Carolina is a neighboring estate to the one of Tony's mother's family. It appears that Eames Rogers and Tony's mother went to the same private-school until Rogers went to college specializing in medicine and Tony's mother got married to the then DiNozzo heir. There's no indication that Rogers contacted Tony's mother after he went to college. Arthur Rogers died when his private plane crashed in Alaska at about the time Eames Rogers finished his degree. After that Eames went to Africa to do some charity work until he was mauled by a lion in an unfortunate hunting accident After his death all personal wealth was donated to charity and the company was auctioned off and bought by another company that belongs to the corporate that your father owns," she finished carefully and glanced up at her friend and colleague who was in the middle of this mess.
"Lots of accidents for one family," Tony frowned.
"Well, all accidents appear to be just that accidents, but with Abby's help I've matched some of the dates with sizable transactions from corporate accounts and while the destination account is in Cayman Islands and there's no way to get more info about it... It's suspicious. Also just before the fire that killed the investigator Tony's mother hired and destroyed all evidence – there was another transaction worth a hundred thousand dollars. Trace of that also leads nowhere," Ziva admitted. "I've called my contacts, but so far haven't heard back from them."
"DiNozzo...," Gibbs turned to Tony knowing full well that his Senior Agent had something to add.
"I chatted with Walter. He's my father's XO and now the CEO of the company. Anyway, he didn't know much, but he did know that I have a half-brother and he had a name for us. Eugene Keelson. Apparently my father had mentioned the guy once or twice and said that the man, and I quote, 'better be worth the money'," Tony said. "Abby's running a search on that name, I called her already from the office."
Gibbs frowned. Abby hadn't told him anything about doing something for Tony, then again Abby often covered or shushed things up for DiNozzo. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but since Abby did the same things for him, he wasn't really in a position to complain. "Abby had a name for me. It's a lawyer your father hired personally to handle some court cases that were sealed and are now gone."
"What do you mean gone?" Tony demanded letting his frustration get the best of him.
Gibbs looked hard at Tony. "Ask McGee," he said finally. "The name is for a lawyer that specializes in family law and he was paid out of DiNozzo Senior's personal accounts. The address..."
Gibbs was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on Tony's desk. Tony turned and grabbed the phone. The conversation was short and consisted of, "Yup."; "Yeah."; "Really?"; "Okay, thanks." on Tony's part.
He glanced up from the phone to look at Ziva and Gibbs. "Abby says that it was the OSP in LA that tripped the wire in the file with them. She also says that the only info she could find on Eugene Keelson was put out, once again, by the OSP in LA."
"The lawyer your father hired now has an address also in LA. He's lived there ever since the cases were sealed thirty three years ago."
"So..." Tony drawled. "Are we going to LA?"
Gibbs jerked his head. "Pack your bags," he agreed before walking past his team and rounding the corner to run up to the MTAC. He had a call to make and a Director to inform. He did however see Ziva reaching for her backpack, so he stopped on the stair platform, pulled his phone and called her.
"Yes?" Ziva dropped her backpack on her table and picked up her mobile.
"I meant just DiNozzo. I want you and McGee to stay here and monitor that Walter person. Something's not clean there. Also I want you to keep digging. On everything."
Ziva was dissatisfied, but still she replied dutifully, "Yes, Gibbs." She didn't like staying behind, especially when there were personal matters at hand. She was part of the team and she wanted to prove that by being there for them, not on the other coast. She took her backpack and dropped it back on the floor out of the way.
Tony just smirked.
NCISXNCIS:LA
It was 4 AM and for a change G was actually sleeping. His phone rang and he almost dropped out of Sam's couch when he reached for it. He grabbed it quickly and after a quick glance at the caller ID he picked it up and moved out of the living room towards the door. "Dad?"
Even though the man who called himself G's father called from the same phone number every time the phone was a pre-paid cell registered to a 90 year old black-male living in a retirement home in rural Pennsylvania. The phone also appeared to be of the older phone generations since Eric couldn't remotely access it, it didn't have a GPS locator and to make matters completely hopeless – no call had been long enough to complete a trace.
"Sorry to wake you, but you're running out of time. We have to talk," the man said.
G quickly weighed his options. Getting a call through to whoever was manning the Op Center tonight to initiate a trace that would most likely not be completed this time either might be correct procedure, but it also would be a waste of time. Waking up Sam might give G an extra opinion, but he knew his partner well enough to know that he didn't want the SEAL's skepticism at the moment. He could get everyone up, but at the same time G knew deep down that that wouldn't get him anything. They just didn't know enough and there was only one way to get somewhere further in this strange case. There were things that he just had to do by himself.
Besides it was Hetty who told him that 'extreme situations require extreme measures'. For G – this was an extreme situation, and only Sam would consider 'going in alone' as an 'extreme measure'.
"That's what I've been telling you for the past two conversations, Dad," somehow G just couldn't stop saying the word. 'Dad.'
"There's much you don't know. There's so much I have to tell you. In 90 minutes. On the Malibu Pier."
"How will I know you?" G asked.
"I'll know you. 90 minutes. Be careful."
"Sure. Now...," G started, but the call was already over. He gritted his teeth and pocketed his phone in his jeans which he hadn't gotten around to taking off before going to sleep. He'd been so exhausted he'd just dropped in the couch when Sam had taken him to his home instead of whatever motel happened along the way.
He walked quietly back into the house and grabbed his hoodie which was was thrown over the back of the couch. He took his shoes and glanced at the closed door of Sam's bedroom. It didn't seem that his partner had woken up. He tip-toed out of the house and closed the doors behind him. He pulled on his shoes and shrugged on the hoodie to keep the morning chill at bay and started to walk.
He intended to hail a cab as soon as he saw one, but for now he was content to walk.
NCISXNCIS:LA
G felt apprehension in his gut war with amusement when he glanced at his newest caller's ID. It was 5:15 AM. He wondered what had woken Sam up before his 6 AM routine and picked up the call.
"G where the hell are you, man?" Sam growled in the receiver.
"In a cab," G replied dutifully relaxing in the worn leather seat of the cab he'd managed to hail after walking for nearly an hour.
"You better tell me you're going to work so I can leave Hetty to deal with you."
"I am going to work," G said grinning. "In a manner of speaking."
"What the hell is that supposed to … G tell me you're not doing something stupid," Sam sounded angry. And worried.
"It's gonna be okay, Sam. This is the only way," he explained calmly.
"No, G. No! This is stupid. This is not how we roll. We're a team remember? Now tell me where the hell are you!"
"Calm down, Sam. I'm just meeting a contact."
"Tell me where you are, you're not going in alone. Partners, remember?" Sam demanded.
"Sorry," G didn't sound sorry at all. "I'm on a strict schedule. Maybe next time."
"G!" Sam growled.
"See you at the Ops Center. Bye," G dropped the call and switched off his phone. He knew it wouldn't stop Eric from switching it back on and tracing him, but it would take time – as long as it took for Sam to wake up Eric and Eric get to the Ops Center and to get everything up and running since the night techs weren't qualified or trained to do more than keep things in shape and monitor them – but it would be enough time for G to get done with this meeting. Besides, he wasn't looking to disappear from his team, he was just looking to stall them a little.