Chapter Six

Gibbs heard laughter as he approached Tony's room. He walked in to find Abby, McGee and Ziva sitting around talking, empty pizza boxes lying around, the television on with the sound muted, and Tony, lying in bed, looking very tired.

"All right," Gibbs said loudly, "everyone go home."

"But Gibbs," Abby protested, "visiting hours aren't over yet."

"They are for you," Gibbs said firmly. "Tony looks like he's about to drop."

Abby looked appalled. "Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry," she said, going to the bed to give him a hug. "We should have noticed you were tired."

"That's okay, Abs," Tony said. "I like having you guys around."

"Yeah, sorry, Tony," McGee said apologetically. "We'll get out of your way."

Ziva patted Tony's head. "We'll see you later." The three gathered up the trash they had scattered and left.

Gibbs settled into a chair and looked over at his senior field agent. "You look like hell, DiNozzo," he said matter-of-factly. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell," Tony said, his head falling back against his pillow. "Thanks for clearing the room. I hate asking people to leave."

"You're afraid they won't come back," Gibbs said.

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I won't stay long," Gibbs said. "Just wanted to check up on you, see how the PT is going."

"Oh, it's going," Tony said. "I can actually walk around on crutches for ten minutes without falling over."

"That's good," Gibbs said approvingly. "You're making progress."

"I suppose," Tony said sullenly.

"It's going to take time, you know that," Gibbs said. "Just keep your mind on the exercises and stop badgering McGee for details on the case."

"I didn't badger him," Tony said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "He's easy to break."

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah, we'll have to work on that." He paused, then said, "That was good advice you gave him."

"He wasn't supposed to say anything," Tony said, frowning.

"You know McGee can't lie."

"He'll never be able to go undercover," Tony agreed.

"That's your thing, not his," Gibbs replied. "He's the tech guy, you're the chameleon."

Tony snorted. "That's me, changing my personality to suit whatever situation I'm in."

"That's a defense mechanism," Gibbs said.

"Ya think?" Tony said sarcastically. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony said. "I'm just tired and sore."

"Has your father called or visited?" Gibbs asked.

Tony rubbed his face tiredly. "Yeah, he was here for a couple of hours the other day," he replied. "He had business in Maryland so he just had the pilot hop this way and dropped in for a visit. He's trying to make up for the years of spending so much time at work."

"He cares about you, Tony," Gibbs said.

"I know," Tony agreed. "It's just hard to get used to the 'kinder, gentler' Dad. I'm used to being ignored and having to jump through hoops to try to get his approval, which never really worked." He laughed and looked over at Gibbs. "It's a lot like what I do with you."

"You do like to get yourself noticed," Gibbs agreed. "Good or bad, you need that attention."

"Any kind of attention is better than none at all," Tony said. "Approval is better."

"You know I'm not one to baby my agents," Gibbs said. "You're expected to do your job well, I'm not going to pat you on the back or give you a lollipop every time you do."

"I know," Tony replied. "But you're a tough guy to please, it would be nice to get some positive feedback once in awhile."

Gibbs shrugged. "You're my senior field agent," he said. "You've been on my team for six years - that's the longest anyone's lasted with me. That doesn't tell you something?"

"That I'm a glutton for punishment?" Tony grinned.

Gibbs laughed. "You could say that," he said. He stood up as Tony stifled a yawn. "You need to get some rest. Maybe you can stay upright for twenty minutes tomorrow."

Tony smiled tiredly. "I'll try, Boss. Thanks for coming."

Gibbs nodded. "We're going to follow up on the leads McGee got when he followed your advice. We might catch this guy soon."

"Hope so," Tony said sleepily.

"Goodnight, Tony."

"'night, Boss."

oOoOoOo

Late in the morning McGee reported on what he had learned about Staff Sergeant Dennis Friberg's childhood.

"Friberg's father was a office supplies salesman," McGee said. "He and his wife got married young and the Staff Sergeant was born seven months later."

"Shotgun wedding," Gibbs observed.

McGee shook his head. "By all accounts the two loved each other very much," he said, "and they seemed to have a loving family, according to neighbors. They had two more children pretty quickly after the first."

"Is his mother still alive?" Ziva asked.

McGee nodded. "I spoke to her. She seems like a very nice lady, she's very proud of her son. He sends her money every month and visits her at least once a year."

Later that afternoon Abby rushed into the squad room excitedly. "Gibbs, I've got great news," she said, bouncing excitedly in front of his desk. "Guess what it is."

"Abby," Gibbs growled warningly.

"You're no fun," she said, pouting. "I managed to tease a DNA sample from the evidence we got from the first murder. Now all you have to do is get a DNA sample from Friberg so we can match them up."

"He's never going to submit to that," Ziva said doubtfully. "We'll have to get a court order."

"I'm not waiting for a court order," Gibbs said. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Feel like going to question Staff Sergeant Friberg with me?" He paused, listening to the reply, then laughed. "I'll pick you up on my way out to Dahlgren."

"McGee," he said as he pulled his weapon out of the drawer and snapped it to his belt, "help Abby process the rest of the evidence from the older cases."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Ziva asked, rising from her chair.

Gibbs shook his head. "Fornell is coming with me; you help Abby and McGee."

With Gibbs driving, the two agents made the forty-five minute trip to Dahlgren in twenty minutes. Staff Sergeant Friberg was talking to his superior, Lieutenant Abel Franklin, when Gibbs and Fornell walked up.

"Special Agent Gibbs," Friberg greeted the agents warmly. "It's good to see you again. This is my boss, Lieutenant Franklin."

Gibbs nodded curtly. "This is Agent Fornell, FBI."

"Staff Sergeant Friberg told me about the murder of the young woman," Franklin said. "Is there something more you need from him?"

"We just thought he might be able to shed some light on the type of woman who hangs around military men," Gibbs said.

"I would think you would know that," Friberg said.

Gibbs laughed. "It's been awhile since I've had young ladies try to get my attention, things might have changed since I was in the service."

Fornell tried to look nonchalant, as he cast a furtive disbelieving look at Gibbs.

"I'm sure things haven't changed that much, Gunny," Friberg replied easily. "Some women get turned on when you talk about battle experiences. They like the excitement without the danger."

Gibbs nodded. "They're just looking for a good time?" he asked. "In my day, women were looking for husbands; they'd even go so far as to get themselves pregnant. You'd be on your way up the ladder and the next thing you know you're tied to someone you don't really love and you've got kids hanging off you. Pretty soon she's hassling you to leave the service and get a job that won't require to you to travel and you're stuck in a small town, in a loveless marriage with a shrewish wife and squalling babies."

Friberg had turned very still as Gibbs was talking, his face turning red.

"Women like that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a military base," Gibbs continued. "They can ruin a good soldier, they're a threat to the country's safety."

Lieutenant Franklin shook his head. "I think that's a pretty old-fashioned, extreme…"

"Some men take responsibility for their actions," Friberg interrupted, "and do it willingly. Avoiding pregnancy was more difficult in your day, I imagine. It doesn't mean it was a way to trap a man."

Gibbs shook his head. "You avoided pregnancy by not having sex with any Tom, Dick or Harry that crossed your path," he said. "No, it was always a way to manipulate some poor idiot into ruining his life and getting saddled with a wife and kids he never really wanted. There's a word for women like that. Whores."

"Go to hell," Friberg hissed.

"Remind you of someone you know?" Gibbs asked.

Gibbs grunted as he was tackled by the furious Marine. Franklin started to separate the two men but was stopped by Fornell, who stood back and watched them roll on the ground. It appeared that the younger Marine was getting the upper hand with Gibbs, who was taking more than his share of the blows. At one point Friberg had his arm around Gibbs' throat and was choking him. Gibbs face was turning a deep red and Fornell almost stepped in when Gibbs threw his head back and crushed Friberg's nose, sending blood spurting down his face. Friberg let go of Gibbs and rolled onto his back, holding his nose with both hands.

Gibbs stood up unsteadily. He looked down at Friberg and smiled. "I'll be seeing you, Staff Sergeant," he said. He and Fornell went back to the car. Gibbs went to the trunk and pulled out a kit, holding out gloves, a swab and a jar to Fornell.

"What's this for?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs turned his back to the other agent. "Is there blood on the back of my head or my shirt?"

"Yeah," Fornell said.

"We've got our DNA sample."