Tony sat in the front of the Landcruiser, next to Isak who was driving. Gibbs had insisted Kate went with him and Captain Barrett, mainly because Gibbs never trusted anyone unless he had to and he wanted the profiler's opinion on the Captain. Despite being used to Gibbs' driving, Tony could not help but wince as Isak manoeuvred them through Pristina's busy streets. Apparently, Kosovan driving was a case of point the car in the direction required and step on the accelerator. Braking was rare. The notion of 'give way' was non-existent. The whole experience was further enhanced by roads pitted with potholes, some of them really rather deep. Isak kept up a running commentary on the various sights as he drove.
"Up there's KFOR hill. Good shopping – if you don't mind the army. We're on Bill Clinton Boulevard now. Good man. Saved us from those bloody Serbs. Your people wanted to put you in the Grand Hotel, but Edvina and I insisted on Hotel Royal. Grand Hotel comes with hot and cold running cockroach." He stopped talking to laugh and have another puff on his cigarette. Isak had smoked almost continually since they had got in the car. His English was excellent, albeit heavily accented. They bounced through another couple of potholes. "We will have to take you out for proper Kosovan meal, eh Edvina? With plenty of raki. You like raki Tony?"
"Sure," he agreed easily. "How 'bout you Probie?" McGee nodded warily and Tony laughed.
"What is Probie? I thought your name was Tim," Edvina asked.
"Er, it's actually short for Probationary Agent," McGee explained. "I'm still fairly new at this."
"We should call you Probie then?" Isak asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye. Tony decided he really liked this guy.
"No!" McGee said, a little too quickly. "That's just Tony's idea of a joke. And not a very funny one," he said, staring hard at the back of the Senior Agent's neck. Tony ignored him.
They pulled up outside the Hotel Royal, leaving their cars in the middle of the road as they unloaded the luggage. Tony noted with amusement that no one seemed to mind them blocking the street, they just drove around them, using the pavement if necessary. The Royal was a blocky, concrete structure, obviously a throwback to the Communist era, and looked dilapidated and rundown from the outside. Inside, however, was a different story. While most of the furnishings in the reception were a little tired, it was clean and tidy and clear that the staff put a great deal of effort into making it look as best as possible.
Once they had checked in (and Tony found to his horror that he had to share with McGee while Kate and Gibbs got a room each), the team assembled in the lounge, where Isak had already ordered coffees for everyone, and raki for himself and Tony. Yep, Tony thought, really going to like this guy, as he took a sip of the strong, local liqueur. It burnt the back of his throat, but it was still good.
"OK Captain. Explain." Gibbs had to admit these Kosovans did good coffee. Even if they did serve it up in too small a cup.
"Corporals Smithson and Franklin had been stationed out here for a few months, up at Prizren in the mountains. They both had a couple of days leave and came down to spend it in Pristina. The next day, Franklin was found stabbed to death in one of the building sites. Smithson was alive and well at this point, but he was stabbed that night. Left in a different building site. Waste of good men," the Captain finished bitterly.
"Autopsy reports?"
"They're up at the base, I can get you a copy by morning."
"Send them back to our ME, Dr Mallard. Was there any forensic evidence?"
"Dust from the building site seemed to obliterate any evidence, and then the KPS utterly destroyed the crime scenes." The fatigue in the Captain's tone was genuine, Tony thought. He seemed truly upset by the loss of his men.
"What's the KPS?" McGee asked.
"Kosovo Police Service," Edvina answered. She made a dismissive gesture. "All they are good for is drinking coffee and smoking. They know nothing about crime."
"Exactly," Barrett nodded. "Which is where you come in. The American military presence in Kosovo is fairly small, and we don't have the resources to investigate this ourselves. As Edvina said, the KPS is useless, so we called in your team."
Gibbs leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of coffee. It was a reasonable explanation, one that rang true to him, but that was no reason to start trusting the Captain unduly. "Who do you think did it then? Locals annoyed at the UN and American presence?"
Isak looked offended. "We Kosovans do not think much of the UN, but we love you Americans. And the British. If it wasn't for you, the Serbs would have slaughtered us all. American soldiers get bought drinks in any bar in Pristina. It might be a local, but not for political reasons."
"Do we know what bars they were in?" Tony asked, filing away the 'free drinks' information for use later on.
Barrett shook his head. Gibbs nodded, almost to himself. "Tomorrow morning, Tony, Kate get on that. Take Isak and Edvina with you."
"On it boss."
"Sure Gibbs."
"McGee, you're with me. We'll head up to Prizren and have a chat with people at the base. Now, I suggest we get an early night."
Isak and Tony exchanged glances. "Uh, boss, I think Isak would like to show us around a little," Tony ventured.
"Of course! It would not be right to not welcome you properly. Our friend has just opened a restaurant of his own, and we would like to take you there. He is preparing a traditional Kosovan meal." Isak smiled hopefully.
"Which is what?" Kate asked.
"A whole lamb, cooked to perfection," Edvina explained.
"And lots of raki," Isak added.
The NCIS team looked at each other. "Sounds great," Tony said. The others nodded, a little less sure. Tony, however, felt like he fitted in instantly. Kosovo was his type of place.