Gibbs laughed as he helped the older man to his feet.
Vance and Fornell were just finishing up briefing Gibbs and Fornell's team when Dancer led the two back to the bullpen.
"…if there are any signs of the gas, you are to call it in immediately and if you are able: secure it. Are there any questions?" Vance asked turning to the field agents.
"I've got one," Tony said eyeing the ME, "Is Ducky still speaking Russian?"
Ziva gave a gasp. "I missed Ducky speaking Russian?"
"Why was he speaking Russian?" McGee asked clearly intrigued.
"To give himself an accent," Tony explained laying a hand on Ducky's shoulder. "Which I told him all he needs to say is 'Nuclear Wessels'."
Ducky pointedly looked at Tony's hand and followed it up to his face, who was grinning unrepentantly.
"Kuryakin once broke a man's nose when they tried to get him to say 'Moose and Squirrel'," Dancer casually said, "So if you want to break his wrist, it's well within character."
Tony looked at Ducky, who was grinning darkly as though the doctor was honestly considering it. Tony snatched his hand away; instinctively wiggling his fingers to make sure nothing was broken.
"Are there any real questions?" Vance asked.
"We sure they're going to be there tonight?" Gibbs asked.
"I can't think why they wouldn't be, Jethro," Fornell said, "They've been there every night for at least the past three weeks."
"Why the Washington Monument?" FBI Agent Mulgrew asked.
"It's within walking distance of Gangplank Marina," Ducky said. The hours he spent speaking only Russian had paid off, his words had a rounded tone to them, not the heavy cartoon like accent that Tony had been championing but a softer, distinctly Russian pronunciation.
"Guess that answers your question, Tony," McGee muttered.
"Damn," Ziva muttered.
"What's the significance of that?" Fornell asked.
"The terrorist from our case preferred living on a boat to dry land. Harder to extradite that way," Dancer explained.
"Alright," Vance said, "if there are no more questions-"
"Oh, I've got one!" Abby said, bouncing over to the group. "I mean it's not a question, it's more like an answer, so I figured that you might want to know about it since you guys did ask-"
"Miss Sciuto," Vance said.
"Right, so I ran all the swabs of the air vents of the base and besides needing to look into new air filters they're clean. No residue of any chemicals of any kind. However, in Ensign Jones's inhaler," Abby handed over her results to Gibbs, "besides the Albuterol I found traces of chlorasine and picric acid in it. Oh and I did in fact find diphenyl sulfide in her blood. Our girl was definitely getting poisoned."
"What a way to go, done in by the Scarecrow's fear gas," Tony said.
"We don't have to worry about other inhalers, I checked the expiration date was like years ago but other than the poison, it was fine. Also I pulled a print off of it that didn't belong to Ensign Jones." Abby bounced a little. "Aren't you going to ask me whose finger print it is?"
"Whose finger print is it?" Gibbs asked rhetorically.
"Her boyfriend, Michael Bufferton."
"Anything else, Miss Sciuto?" Vance asked.
"Yes," Abby turned to Albert and Ducky. "What you are doing is very brave and I also think it's very stupid that they're asking you to do it. So Ducky and Albert please-"
Albert held up a hand. "I'm sorry, miss, but I think you have us confused for someone else. My name is Napoleon Solo and this is my friend, Illya Kuryakin."
Abby bounced a little before she hugged them both. "Fine, I don't care who you are: just come back safely."
Gibbs smiled as he watched the two men hugged her back.
The sunset was just about finished when Solo ducked back into car holding out a bag to show Kuryakin.
"This does not count as my birthday dinner," Kuryakin told him.
"Of course not," Solo assured him digging through the bag. "I forget which one she said had the mustard on it…"
Kuryakin rolled his eyes and took the sandwich that Solo handed him.
Gibbs sat in the truck, eyes on the recording equipment, the Washington Monument jumped slightly as Ducky pushed his glasses back up.
"How worried should I be?" Ducky asked as he unwrapped his sandwich.
Gibbs stopped McGee from answering in time as Albert responded. "About what?"
"About, you: volunteering."
"Not very."
The view panned right as Ducky turned to Albert, Gibbs easily imaging the skeptical look that Ducky must be giving his cousin; he'd leveled it at Gibbs enough times.
Solo rolled his eyes at the look Kuryakin was giving him. "Really, Illya, I'm fine."
"'I'm fine' he says, after weeks of being 'busy'," Kuryakin said out loud before he took a bite of his sandwich.
"Well, I'm not the one who was accused of treason," Solo pointed out, as he took a bite as well.
"It wasn't treason, it was espionage," Kuryakin corrected, handing the mustard covered sandwich to Solo.
"My mistake," Solo said, handing the plain sandwich over and taking the correct one. "Then again I'm not the one who's making a habit of having a gun pointed at him once a year."
"It hasn't been once a year," Kuryakin said, taking another bite.
"Nooo, you're right," Solo conceded, "there was the time you got kidnapped and they were draining your blood when you were recused."
"You've been reading my reports," Kuryakin accused.
Solo nodded. "And the other relevant ones. They are public files after all."
"Meanwhile, I've been left in the dark as to what you've been up to." Kuryakin sighed, "I worry that's all."
"You worry?" Solo asked.
"Yes," Kuryakin said. "Sometimes I'm reminded of Albert-"
"Napoleon," Solo corrected sharply.
"Of Albert," Kuryakin insisted, "you remember him? The gentleman who was asked to impersonate that French assassin? What was his last name?"
"Albert Sully, who then proceed to make our lives more difficult than they needed to be."
"Yes, him." Kuryakin leveled another look at Solo.
"I am fine, I am not that bored. Also I have people who watch my back," Solo reminded. "Enough that they helped me acquire a few pictures."
"But you are bored?" Kuryakin asked.
"I didn't mean to give you the impression that I'm bored all of the time."
"You dropped everything to come with me," Kuryakin pointed out.
"I wasn't doing anything. Besides I could have been four years in a deep cover assignment and I still would have dropped everything to help you."
"Be that as it may," Kuryakin said, "I was, technically, out of trouble when you volunteered."
"Illya, you weren't out of the woods. Besides you volunteered, too," Solo pointed out.
"Well of course I did-"
"So you're allowed to put your life on the line and I'm not?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Yes, it is. But I'll give you this, Illya, you'll know that my boredom has gotten the better of me when I'm with Angelique and I haven't seen her for months."
Kuryakin sat up in alarm. "Months?!"
Solo froze. "Uh…"
"What do you mean 'months'?" Kuryakin demanded.
"Well…you did say that we made a cute couple," Solo pointed out.
Kuryakin narrowed his eyes at Solo. "We both know that-"
Dancer gently pushed McGee out of her way and spoke clearly into the microphone.
"Gentlemen, Channel D is open," she told them.
The two stopped bickering; both of them running through their conversation to see if they let anything classified or personal slip.
"Well, Illya, you were right about forgetting about the earwigs after a while," Solo said, turning his attention back to the world beyond the windshield.
"It helps that no one has been chiming in," Kuryakin agreed, following Solo's lead.
The two sat in silence for a moment.
"We will talk about this later," Kuryakin said, without turning his gaze from the windshield.
"I thought as much," Solo replied his eyes also forward. "When exactly did you start the sound check?"
"When you came back with dinner; so we heard pretty much all of it," Tony admitted from where he was spotting for Ziva.
"I for one find it very sweet that you would throw an opt for Ducky," Ziva told them without shifting her attention from her scope.
Solo nodded, wrapping his uneaten half a sandwich back up. "Good to know."
"I'll save the forty-five minute lecture until you two are back," Dancer promised.
"Thank you," Ducky said.
"Accent's slipping, Mr. Kuryakin," Gibbs told Ducky.
"спасибо," Kuryakin said, than sat up a little straighter, he gently nudged Solo's arm and pointed out the window at two men escorting an old lady, all of whom clearly didn't belong loitering in the park. "Gibbs."
"We see 'em," Gibbs said.
"Wait for my cue," Dancer ordered. "Are the other teams in place?"
"Affirmative," McGee said.
"Team Defiant, move in, Solo, Kuryakin, count to thirty then move."
"один, два, три, четыре, пять…"
"Copy," Solo said, pulling the suitcase onto his lap.
"Archangel, anything happens to those two I will cast you to Hell myself, am I clear?" Dancer said.
"Overly dramatic," Tony replied, "but clear."
"I'll help," Gibbs promised.
"Terrifyingly clear," Tony corrected.
"Good," Dancer said. "Team Intrepid, keep your eyes out for our boat."
"Copy," Fornell radioed back.
"…тридцать," Kuryakin finished nodding at his partner.
"Making contact," Solo said, opening his door.
The two walked into the park and both could feel Ziva's scope following them. As they approached the small group the two men with the woman tensed but she held up her hand to stop them. She looked Kuryakin and Solo over with shew eyes.
"I must admit, I'm surprised you both lived this long," she said.
"As am I," Kuryakin agreed.
The years had left their mark on the woman, not enough to truly rob her of her beauty but enough that a younger man like Tony couldn't appreciate it. Her hair was a short and feathery, aged-dyed gray to the point that it was impossible to tell what it had been. But the years hadn't been enough to steal the calculating look from her eyes.
She noticed their studious gazes. "You don't remember me, do you?"
Kuryakin hesitated but Solo did not.
"Gervaise Ravel, one of the four masterminds behind several nefarious schemes" Solo said with a roll of the tongue. He smirked, "You used to throw one hell of a party."
"You would remember that," Kuryakin muttered.
"Gentlemen you are looking at the only mastermind left," Ravel said.
"Wonder what happened to the others," Tony muttered.
"If I recall correctly," Solo said, "It's been that way for years."
"Yes, you killed two of them when you blew up their base in Yugoslavia," Kuryakin noted, more for others' benefit than anything else.
Solo gave a nod. "And you killed the last one saving a hostage in Spain."
"Mexico," Kuryakin corrected.
Solo looked at Kuryakin and Kuryakin leveled a look at him right back.
"I'm glad we made an impression at least," Ravel said.
They turned their attention back to Ravel, the argument on hold for the moment.
"If this is a case of revenge, five decades is a bit excessive to wait, is it not?" Kuryakin asked.
"And a million dollars a fairly low sum," Solo added.
"The money is not the end goal," Ravel assured. "I honestly have no need for it, especially as I'm sure you two have marked it somehow."
Solo frowned. "Then why did you-"
"Us," Kuryakin answered, "You were getting our attention."
"I knew that the moment the gas was released they'd drag whatever was left of you out of retirement," Ravel tilted her head back. "So I made sure it was on my terms. My own Giuoco Piano gambit if you will."
"Why now?" Solo asked.
"You didn't stop me, but you did delay me." Ravel said, "Quite a bit."
"I see, it took you this long to recreate the gas," Kuryakin said.
"Among other things," Ravel said.
"Well that puts the years I spent honing my poker skills to shame," Solo said.
"Especially since I beat you on a regular basis," Kuryakin agreed.
"Rub it in, Illya."
"You still owe me twenty dollars," Kuryakin reminded him.
"Which is why the sandwiches were on your tab," Solo said.
Their ear pieces barked with a stifled laugh.
"Why do I get the feeling someone, somewhere is laughing at me," Kuryakin groused.
McGee flinched. "Sorry, Ducky."
Dancer reached up to her ear piece, pushing it tight to her ear. She smiled, pushing McGee out of the way.
"All teams, objective B has been achieved. I repeat: objective B has been achieved. Fornell, if you've found that boat take it now. Kuryakin, Solo, any help you two can get us on objective A will be greatly appreciated, if not, at the very least stall them. "
"So you've been making gas and I've been playing poker," Solo said. "What about you, Illya?"
"I got a degree in criminal psychology," Kuryakin said. "If I remember correctly, the man I killed in Mexico-"
"Spain," Solo corrected.
"-in Mexico," Kuryakin insisted.
"No, it was Spain," Solo said, "I remember the flight there-"
"No, we were only gone for four days; it had to have been Mexico-"
"-the stall owner was proud because the locket I bought-"
"-I remember there was festival because I was wearing-"
"-the houses were-"
"-it was the Day of the Dead-"
"Puerto Rico," Ravel said sharply.
Kuryakin and Solo broke off their argument to look at her.
"It was Puerto Rico," Ravel said, "In the mountain range a few miles from Boridqua, a town that no longer exists, where you killed Harold."
The two glanced at each other and Solo tilted his head to the side conceding the point to Ravel.
Kuryakin nodded in agreement and turned his attention back to Ravel. "Yes, Harold Bufferton, who I believe was also your lover, hence your clear recollection. And also grandfather to Michael Bufferton."
One of the men behind Ravel shifted.
"Don't be too surprised, you have his name and you're not old enough to be his son," Kuryakin said. "What was it that you do for a living again?"
McGee tapped on his laptop. "Michael Bufferton, works for Cradle…"
"…Pharmaceutical, isn't it?" Kuryakin said, "In the research lab, where you were able to get the materials you need to create the gas. Dating someone who was looking for the very weaknesses that you needed was either very serendipitous or carefully planned. I'll go with planned since she had asthma. Ensign Jones must have been relieved that you supplied her with inhalers under the table. Tell me: did you start giving her the gas to study its effects or because she realized that you were hiding the gas at your job?"
"It doesn't really matter," Bufferton said, nudging the man to his left and they both pulled out their guns flanking Kuryakin and Solo. "You won't get to tell anyone what you've figured out."
The older men raised their hands slightly.
"Archangel to Dancer, I do not have a clear shot!" Ziva snapped. "Repeat, I do not have a clear shot!"
"Confirmed," Tony repeated. "Shot has been lost!"
"Fornell, give me two of your people!" Dancer turned to the men next to her, "Gibbs, McGee, Get Out There!"
Gibbs was halfway out the door when she was talking to Fornell and McGee started to detangle himself from his headset at Dancer's order.
"I already did," Kuryakin told Bufferton.
Bufferton cocked his head to the side and Kuryakin snapped forward, slapping his right hand against the inside of Bufferton's wrist while with his left hand he twisted the gun out of Bufferton's grip before pointing Bufferton's own gun at him.
Bufferton took a startled step back as he tried to figure out how Kuryakin had taken his gun in less than three seconds.
"Whoa!" McGee said his eyes on Ducky's screen.
"MCGEE!" Gibbs shouted.
McGee jumped and ran after his boss.
The same time Kuryakin moved Solo turned to the side, grabbing his assailant's wrist and pushed the gun away from himself and Kuryakin. Solo used the momentum from the thrust to throw his assailant to the ground pulling the gun from his grip and pointing it at his assailant's head with Solo's knee firmly in his, former, assailant's back.
"Holy-!" Tony pulled away from his scope to look at the figures in the distance.
"I have a shot on the guy on Ducky!" Ziva exclaimed.
Kuryakin leveled the gun at Ravel. "I do believe you've lost."
Bufferton hesitated for a second then tried to rush Kuryakin. He made it two steps before he jerked back, gripping his shoulder as he fell to the ground.
"Thank you, Archangel," Kuryakin said, stopping Ravel from going to Bufferton's side.
"Anytime, Ducky," Ziva said, training her gun onto Ravel.
"I suppose this means you don't care what happens to Miss DeForest's son?" Ravel asked.
"He was saved about five minutes ago," Gibbs said his Glock leveled at Ravel as well. "NCIS, hands behind your back."
Ravel glared at Kuryakin as Gibbs cuffed her. "I got her, Duck, you take care of him."
"Very well, Jethro," Ducky said, Kuryakin's accent stubbornly clinging to his words. He gave Bufferton's gun to Gibbs before kneeling down to look at the gunshot wound. "Good shot, Ziva. He won't die but he'll need a lot of therapy."
"He can get it in prison," Gibbs said. "Dancer, we need an ambulance."
McGee arrived just as Fornell and Agent Mulgrew did. Fornell and Mulgrew took Ravel off of Gibbs and Gibbs joined McGee at the other guy.
"I got him," McGee said, leveling his Glock at the guy on the ground.
"That's good," Albert said, lowering the gun but not moving off of the guy.
"That means you can get up," McGee clarified.
"I would… except…"
"You're stuck?" Gibbs asked.
"Help," Albert said, raising the hand without the gun for someone to grab. Gibbs laughed as he helped the older man to his feet.
A/N: Disarming techniques found on various YouTube Accounts, Ducky's in particular was Krav Maga Training: Fastest Gun Disarm Technique