Ducky looked surprised but pleased at the turn of events.
The door to autopsy slid open and Palmer jumped to his feet as Ducky practically stormed in. "Uh, Doctor Mallard-"
"Tell me we have Ensign Kimberly Jones's remains," Ducky demanded, grabbing a fresh pair of scrubs.
"Uh, yes, she is right over here," Palmer said, opening 105 and pulling out the drawer where the woman was laid out.
"I'm sorry to say my dear, but our bedside manner is going to be a little rushed," Ducky told her hastily pulling on his scrubs.
"Rushed?" Palmer asked.
"We only have a few hours to perform an autopsy and most of that is getting Abby samples for the tox-screen. Lay her on the table and scrub up." Ducky said, walking over to the sink.
"Right," Palmer nodded. He looked at the Ensign leaving her there for the moment, and then turned to the retreating doctor and called out, "Doctor Mallard."
Ducky turned back to Palmer, his eyes falling on the corpse. "Mr. Palmer, time is of the ess-"
Palmer spoke over him. "-I just wanted to say: I'm sorry for doubting you. I mean, we found some very weak evidence and I believed it."
Ducky stopped and sighed. "Mr. Palmer, I don't blame you. You were following the evidence and from my understanding it was you who reached out to Albert to clear my name. I am grateful for that."
Palmer nodded. "Thank you, but I am sorry that even for a moment I believed you could have been a spy like Kuryakin."
Ducky paused and held up a finger. "Ah, funny you should mention that…"
"So let me see if I got this straight," Tony said watching as Gibbs handed out folders. "We have just gone through all the trouble to prove, without a reasonable doubt that Ducky is who he says he is. Only for him to now be pretending to be the guy that we just busted our asses to prove he wasn't."
Ziva looked over the folder Gibbs handed her. "Looks like."
"Great…" McGee muttered. "Boss, are we sure he can handle it? The last time he went undercover he introduced himself to the target as 'Ducky'."
"The last time he was undercover he had you in his ear calling him 'Ducky'," Gibbs pointed out. "What did you find out about Ensign Jones?"
The team stopped looking at the folders and looked at each other in a calm sort of panic.
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Tell Me you've been looking into Ensign Jones since you left the office."
"You, uh, you never said-" McGee stuttered to a stop as Gibbs looked at him. "I'll get right on it."
"In his defense, Boss, he's been on the phone for like two days," Tony pointed out.
"What's your excuse?" Gibbs asked, typing something on his computer.
"Uh," Tony pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I've also been on the phone for two days."
"As have I looking into Kuryakin," Ziva added.
Gibbs didn't bother to look at them.
"We'll get started," Tony promised and he and Ziva hurried to their respective desks.
"I'm a little surprised you're not hanging out in autopsy with Ducky," Abby said, gathering up the pictures next to the scanner and handed some of them to Albert.
Albert took the pictures and slipped them into place in the photo album with a laugh. "I learned the hard way to let Ducky do what he does best."
Abby shot him a sympathetic smile. "You hurled didn't you?"
Albert almost started a sentence but thought better of it. He lifted a hand and gave a 'sort of' gesture to her. "Something like that."
Abby laughed as she flipped through the ones she hadn't handed over. "I've been meaning to ask; why are all of these mat-finished?"
Albert paused putting the pictures away then looked up at Abby. "Are they?"
"Well yeah," Abby said, flipping through pictures of Ducky and Albert and random people in different poses and places. "See? If you look at them they don't reflect the light as well as this one."
She reached over and tilted the picture of Kuryakin on the train platform looking very much like Ducky. The light on that one bounced highlighting the curve that appeared where Abby's thumb gently held the picture. She then held up one of Albert's picture of Ducky standing by a staircase wearing a baggy-knitted sweater and the light highlighted the nearly invisible bumps but not enough to hide the picture underneath.
Albert pulled out his reading glasses and looked at the photos and then laughed. "The guy at the photo booth told me they would last longer."
Abby smiled. "Let me guess, it also happened to cost more."
Albert gave her a guilty smile and shrug.
"Guess it was cheapest where Gibbs got his done," Abby said as she handed Albert some of the pictures that Gibbs gave her that reflected the light the same way as Albert's pictures.
"Hey, Abby," Palmer said, looking very distracted as he held out a small tray of jars, not even acknowledging Albert in his distraction. "Here are some blood samples and lung tissue that Doctor Mallard needs you to run a tox-screen on and I quote: STAT. And you need to look for diphenyl sulfide; he was very specific about that."
"Wow, Jimmy, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Abby asked as she signed for the evidence.
"Well," Palmer sighed, annoyed, "apparently the CIA have asked Doctor Mallard to pretend to be," Palmer gestured to the pictures Abby was putting away, "Kuryakin."
"What?!" Abby exclaimed turning to Palmer, looking at him like it was it was his fault.
"I know!" Palmer said.
"Why would they do that?" Abby demanded. "We proved that he's not!"
"Hence the pretending," Tony said causing the two to jump, holding out an evidence bag for Abby, "inhaler from our jumper."
"How did she have an inhaler on her?" Abby asked, taking the bag from him.
"She didn't; found it in her apartment," Tony said.
Palmer tilted the bag towards him, looking over the top of his glasses as he read the label. "Albuterol…this is a recuse inhaler. It's used to treat asthma."
"But you can't serve in the Armed Forces if you have asthma," Abby said, gesturing with the bag that held the inhaler.
"I know that, Abbs," Tony said.
"So why did she have it?" Abby asked again.
"I don't know, Abbs, that's why I gave it to you." Tony said giving her a look.
Abby blinked and nodded. "Oh, right."
"I could look up her medical records, see what it has on there," Palmer offered.
"I'll come with you," Tony said, following the Assistant Medical Examiner out of the lab.
"Sorry about that, Albert," Abby said, scribbling her name on the bag for the inhaler, "but duty calls. You are more than welcome to stick-"
She looked up but she was alone in her lab.
"How are you holding up?" Tony asked as he hit the button to the morgue.
"Fine," Palmer said. Tony looked at him. Palmer sighed. "A little less than fine…I'm a worried that Doctor Mallard is…"
"Biting off more than he can chew?" Tony finished.
Palmer heaved a huge sigh. "…Yeah. And I know that Doctor Mallard can take care of himself but…I don't know. I, I just don't like it."
The elevator dinged signaling it reached their destination. "I know, Palmer, I know."
They stepped out of the elevator and into autopsy to see Ducky directing Gibbs's attention to specific points about the body.
Tony stopped, tilted his head to the side, blinking in confusion as he realized that Ducky wasn't speaking English. "Is that Russian?"
"да," Gibbs said his attention still mostly on something in the chest cavity that Ducky was explaining.
"O-kay…why is Ducky speaking Russian?" Tony asked.
Gibbs and Ducky stopped what they were doing, trading exasperated looks with each other.
"Doctor Mallard said it would help give him a convincing Russian accent," Palmer explained. "By speaking Russian he said he would get an appreciation for how the accent would occur in a native Russian speaker."
"Ah, hell, Ducky you don't need to go through all that! Just say 'Nuclear Wessels' a few dozen times and claim everything was invented in 'Wassia'." Tony said with a huge smile.
Gibbs and Ducky turned in sync to glare at Tony, the senior field agent's smile dropping quickly. Even though the glares weren't directed at him, Palmer fidgeted nervously. "Perhaps I should have said 'naturally occur in a native speaker'."
"да, Palmer," Gibbs said nodding to Ducky who continued to explain in Russian what Gibbs was looking at.
"I have no clue what he's saying," Tony muttered loudly.
"Uh, well," Palmer said, coming up from behind Tony. "As you can see from her X-rays she has multiple fractures and broken bones, most of them in her arms, chest and neck. Ah, as you can see here," Palmer moved to the table waving his finger over her forehead, "She has a massive indent here on her skull from where her head collided with her forearm."
"She did a swan dive?" Tony asked, his eyes flickering over to Ducky chatting away in Russian.
"Well, more like a forward dive," Palmer corrected, "Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head, and even if the head wound hadn't killed her, the broken neck would have as it severed her spinal cord."
Tony pulled a face. "That does not sound pleasant."
"Well, death would have been instantaneous," Palmer said, "So it didn't hurt."
"Doesn't mean it was pleasant," Tony pointed out. "Any signs of asthma?"
"Interesting you should mention that, DiNo-" Ducky stopped then sighed.
Gibbs gave a small smile as Ducky pulled out his wallet and handed Gibbs a twenty dollar bill.
"Забавно, что вы это заметили," Ducky corrected, pointing at the woman's chest cavity. "Обратите внимание на форму ее легких. Уверен, что у нее была астма."
"Uh, I'm not sure what that means but, uh," Palmer said, "if you look here, there are signs of repeated swelling of her airways which could be a sign of COPD such as," Palmer paused for dramatic effect, "asthma. And if we check her medical file…"
Ducky must have said something to that affect as he handed Palmer a folder. "Ensign Jones claimed that she hadn't had an asthma attack since she was fifteen and has a medical waiver claiming she was clear for active duty. Which is weird, with the amount swelling she would have been having attacks fairly recently."
"So she was lying?" Tony asked, "Would have been risking a dishonorable discharge."
"Отличная работа, Даки, продолжай." Gibbs said, walking out of the morgue.
Tony looked after Gibbs and turned back to Ducky and Palmer, walking backwards out of the room. "Good job, guys! And remember Ducky: Nuclear Wessels!"
Palmer chuckled only to stop as he noticed Ducky's dark look.
"Boss, I don't know about this," Tony said as they took the elevator back up to the bullpen.
"About what?" Gibbs asked.
"Ducky going undercover," Tony said, "Whatever DeForest needed Kuryakin for can't be good. And having Ducky go in alone-"
"Who says he's going in alone?" Gibbs asked.
"I know that we're going to be there in the van but-" Tony stopped as he saw the look. "We're not going to be in the van?"
"No, you will be with Ziva on the roof," Gibbs said.
"Where will you be?"
"With Ducky," Gibbs said as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.
"Really?" Tony said following Gibbs.
They entered the bullpen just as Ms. Dancer returned making her way to a waiting Vance and Fornell.
"Have you notified Homeland Security?" Vance demanded when she was close enough.
"I think we have enough of the alphabet here, don't you?" Fornell said.
"Agreed," Dancer said. "Unless you're saying NCIS isn't up to the challenge…"
"No, I'm saying they get cranky when they get left out," Vance said, "I'll let them know to forward their complaints to the CIA and FBI if they ever find out."
"Nothing but a bunch of sissies," Tony agreed.
"No one asked you, Agent DiNozzo," Vance pointed out sharply; he turned his attention back to Dancer. "You got your intel ready?"
She leveled a look at him. "Would I be here if I didn't?"
"As soon as Ducky's done with his autopsy you can brief us," Gibbs said.
"'Brief us'?" Dancer repeated. "What makes you think you're invited?"
"Who else are you going to get to play Solo?" Gibbs asked.
Dancer gave a quick, honest laugh. "No."
"What?" Gibbs demanded causing his team to slowly back away and trade nervous looks with each other.
"First of all, Agent Gibbs, you aren't old enough. Second, you're too tall. Third your face, while similar, won't fool someone expecting him. And finally," Dancer looked Gibbs up and down, "no."
"No what?" Fornell asked, torn between amused and indignant on Gibbs's behave.
Dancer gestured to Gibbs. "No, Gibbs is a Marine; Solo was Army. Gibbs would be spotted in a heartbeat."
"I'm not letting Doctor Mallard go in alone," Gibbs growled.
"I could go," Fornell offered.
"You'd be spotted even quicker," Dancer assured. She turned to Vance. "And I don't think you should try volunteering."
"Wasn't going to," Vance said. "But I agree with Gibbs, you get somebody to go with Doctor Mallard or he's not going."
"Well with a scheme this… zany how hard would it be to get the REAL Solo to go?" Ziva asked. "Surely he would go for it, yes?"
"Comrade Kuryakin," The bigwig said, dropping a loaded gun onto the desk. "Shoot that man."
Kuryakin picked up the gun, pointing it at the tied up man. His eyes widened as a KGB pulled the hood off. "Napoleon…"
Gibbs shot Jenny a warning glance. They couldn't interfere.
Solo looked around the room and eyed the gun in Kuryakin's hands warily. "I see…"
Solo gave Kuryakin a small, reassuring smile and closed his eyes.
Gibbs didn't dare look away as Kuryakin leveled the gun to Solo's head.
"If I could get the real Solo, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Dancer said.
"I'll do it."
Everyone twisted to look at Albert hovering just outside of the bullpen by McGee's desk.
"Absolutely not," Vance said.
"I agree," Fornell said. "Bad enough we have an eighty-year-old Medical Examiner playing spy; we are not including a civilian."
"Gibbs?" Albert said.
Gibbs shrugged. "Not my call."
"Uh, Agent Dancer?" A blond haired man with a Liverpool accent said, handing her a manila envelope.
"Thank you," She said, and the man nodded and walked back to the elevator. "I had my people make some documents for Doctor Mallard."
Gibbs pulled out his knife and held out a hand. Dancer held out her hand expectantly and Gibbs handed her his knife handle first.
"Looks like someone needs to learn Rule Nine," McGee said with a smirk as Dancer slit open the envelope.
Dancer ignored the comment, closed the knife and dropped it onto Gibbs's desk. She up ended the envelope dropping a red passport into her hand, but a blue one fell past and onto the ground. Fornell bent over and picked it up before a mildly surprised Dancer could. He flipped it open to see Albert smiling out at him with the name "Napoleon Solo" stamped to the right of the picture.
"When were you planning on telling us?" Fornell asked, flipping it around for the others to see.
Dancer blinked then scowled, snatching the passport from Fornell. "You forget who has jurisdiction over this affair. My jurisdiction, my case, my lead."
"Rule 38," Gibbs said picking up his phone. He ignored Vance's suspicious look and dialed down to autopsy. "Palmer, send him up."
"You still could have told us," Fornell protested. "What were you going to do if Albert hadn't volunteered?"
"I'm sure she would have thought of something," Vance said with acid. "Seeing as our opinion doesn't matter."
"It matters," Dancer assured them. "What about Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling?"
"Ziva," Vance said without turning around.
"They have had a security team sweeping the base. No signs of any bombs or gas canisters of any kind. We have swabs of their air vents getting tested as we speak."
"Ensign Jones's apartment was clean," Tony added. "Only thing we found was an inhaler, which is also down in Abby's lab."
"Uh, she was part of team looking into finding potential weaknesses in Naval bases for this kind of thing," McGee said. "Her teammates say she's been acting jumpy the last few months but I didn't find any suspicious activities in her accounts."
"Well she went from jump-y to jump-ing, so she must have known something to make that happen," Tony said.
"Who had access to her files?" Gibbs asked.
"Her teammates and he CO," McGee said, "Running background on them now, Boss."
"We are also trying to contact her boyfriend, a Michael Bufferton, but no luck so far," Ziva added.
"Okay, what about Agent DeForest?" Dancer asked looking at Fornell.
"She's being taken care of," Fornell assured causing Gibbs's team to trade questioning glances.
"And…" Dancer asked gently.
"Also being taken care of," Fornell replied just as gently causing even more questioning glances.
Before anyone could ask Ducky came into view and Dancer moved to greet him, motioning to the conference room and he and Albert walked with her.
"Illya Kuryakin," She said, handing him the red Russian passport without breaking her stride. Dancer then handed Albert the blue passport. "Meet Napoleon Solo."
Ducky looked surprised but pleased at the turn of events.
A/N: Special Thanks to the Nifty Cat on Tumblr who translated Gibbs and Ducky's Russian for me.
Sorry about the lack of post last week but my computer has been saved and the files are now backed up somewhere that even if my computer dies again there won't been anymore disruptions. See you soon.