Chapter 3

Major Problem Number Two

Back in the incident room after a short lunch break, Gibbs was demanding preliminary reports over his sixth cup of coffee while Jane Doe stared aimlessly out of the double story windows. 'Okay, what do we know so far?'

Abby was the first to offer her input. 'I ran her prints through AFIS and got nada. She either has no criminal record and nothing to do with the military or the FBI is holding out on us again.'

'Wouldn't put it past them. The only people who could have put her in our morgue are NCIS, FBI or CIA The question is why?' The last part was directed at Kate, their resident profiler.

'Maybe she found out something that she wasn't supposed to and they put her in there to either wipe her memory or to kill her.'

Tony, with a mouth full of Chinese noodles disagreed. 'If they wanted to kill her, Kate, they could have put a bullet in her.'

'True, Tony, but then they would have to cover it up.'

McGee decided now was the right time to offer his views. 'They would have had to dispose of the body in a way that it couldn't be discovered and traced back to them and even so they must have known that her memory would come back in time.'

Tony stabbed his fork in McGee's general direction. He had long ago given up on chopsticks. 'My point is, Probie, there are easier ways of stopping people from talking.'

Gibbs pushed his empty cup into the bin. 'DiNozzo's right. I want you to recreate what happened last night, talk to people and figure out how the hell she got in here. Did you get anything from the camera tapes?'

McGee did not like being the barer of bad news when Gibbs is involved but he had lost the coin toss with Abby. 'Nothing yet, Boss. The guard, Petty Officer Jeffrey Kutler, entered the floor at zero hundred, Ducky and Palmer arrived at zero four hundred and she fell out of the freezer at zero four twenty two. No one else showed up on the tapes for the entire night.'

'Go over them again with Abby. Check date and time stamps, look for feed loops and see if you can enhance what we've got. Might give us a clue.'

Jane Doe's voice cut through the orders. It was not a loud voice but it was clear and carried. 'Mum and Dad.' She was still staring out of the window but turned as the silence became apparent. 'Mum was Navy but never went to sea; Dad was a LEO but not the star sign. Now why do I know that?'

Tony sarcasm was paramount, 'Great! Now she's talking in cryptic riddles. Maybe we should get Ducky back up here, he's good at crosswords – ow!'

His suggestion was cut short by a swift, sharp slap to the back of his head, curtsey of Gibbs who somehow managed to keep his deadpan expression.

'Follow up on that, DiNozzo.'

Tony was not going to go quietly. 'Come on, Boss! Do you know how many people constitute the Navy and Law Enforcement in general?'

'Sure, DiNozzo, so you better get busy.'

The rest of Tony's complaint fell on deaf ears as everyone's attention was on the forward lift as the doors open and out marched two FBI agents who, for once, were not looking like they owned the place. The FBI are never welcome guests at the best of times and the fact that they were not being led by their immediate superior was so out of the ordinary it was almost impossible. Gibbs was close to seriously considering going for that second eye test.The pair ignored the gazes of practically everyone on the office floor and made straight for Gibbs' desk. Gibbs didn't even glance up. 'Where's Tobias, Freedman?'

Agent Freeman seemed reluctant to "come clean". 'We need your help, Agent Gibbs.'

Gibbs gave him his best "just get to the point" stare. 'Then why isn't Fornell here telling me this himself?'

'That's why we're here.' Finished Freedman. 'He's missing, sir. His office was ransacked and he hasn't shown up.'

Gibbs struggled to hide his disbelief. 'Are we talking about the same Fornell?'

'His cell phone's off, he's not answering at home, the GPS in his car isn't registering, our building's in lockdown. We've got nowhere else to turn to –'

Carnon finished his colleague's sentence. ' –and there's no way in hell we're poking around our Boss's house when there's a good chance there's some nutter with a gun waitin' for us.'

Stuffing his gun in its holster, Gibbs made for the lift. 'Kate, McGee, grab your gear! Tony, gas the truck! You two coming or not?' He yelled back at the guys from the Hoover Building.

Carnon and Freedman dodged through the lift doors just before they closed.

Carnon's metallic black 2001 Chevrolet Corvette C5 pulled into the small laneway following the large, multi purpose, NCIS Major Case Response Team Vehicle. Chevrolets are not practical cars for use in the field but at least it looks good and blends in in Vegas. This was the first time Carnon had had to use it for work and he was seriously hoping it wouldn't get damaged. His insurance didn't cover bullet holes or high speed collision damage. He was glad he wasn't driving as there was absolutely no way to see what was coming the other way thanks to their friends in the pseudo-semi. So much for the element of surprise. Fornell's house was one of only a few large semi-rural houses that had survived the city developers and occupied a twelve acre block, backing on to State forest. A horse stable was just visible beyond the brick veranda. Gibbs parked the truck on the lawn, barely leaving enough room for the Corvette to squeeze into the driveway.

Flanked by his own team and the FBI pair, Gibbs bounded up the steps, bashing with all his might upon the front door. 'Tobias! Open up!' He didn't stop until he had physically splintered and dented the door. Sorry about that, Tobias.

Tony suggested a Hollywood cliché, 'Spare key above the door, Boss?'

Gibbs was already rooting around behind the only flower pot on the porch. Another cliché. You would think that people would think of more inventive places to put things. 'He's shorter than me, DiNozzo.' In his left hand he held the spare key, drawing his gun with his right. The others took the hint and drew theirs.

Carnon and Freedman took the right side of the door; Tony took the left behind Gibbs. McGee and Kate went around the porch to try and locate the back door. Gibbs slowly mimed out three, turned the key and shoved the door in. They certainly weren't prepared for the sight that met their eyes.

The photos in the hall were shattered, the lights hung by single wires having been pulled from their fittings, the small oak letter table was smashed into pieces, its previous contents strewn across the floor, but the worst part was the blood. It covered the floor, spattered the walls and stuck to almost every surface. The place reeked of death.

'Oh my God!' breathed Freedman as they stepped over the carnage into the joint lounge and dining room. The desolation hadn't stopped with the hall. The once grand mahogany table was blood spattered and nothing more than splintered firewood, the leather lounges were slashed and had springs hanging out and the wallpaper was literally torn from the walls.

Kate and McGee entered from the kitchen their faces masks of pain, disbelief and disgust. Apparently the kitchen wasn't in any better shape and the blood trail led to the upper level. McGee looked like he was going to be sick and nearly sprinted back outside. Tony voiced the most obvious phrase he could think of. 'He didn't go quietly.'

Carnon raised his glazed eyes from the bloodstained timber flooring. 'Fornell always was a fighter. Always had to have the last word.'

Freedman also took great comfort in the impromptu conversation. 'Whenever it was slow in the office he'd give us challenges. We once challenged him to two on one basketball; him against us. We found his old trophies.' He explained.

Carnon chuckled, 'He flogged us both. Sure he spent the rest of the day lying flat on his back behind his desk moaning but –'

Freedman finished Carnon's sentence, '–the rest of the office have never let us live it down."

'Gibbs.' Kate had picked up a photo, lying face down under its smashed frame. On the reverse side, scrawled in the same blood covering the room was an initial. S.M.

Gibbs rounded on the agents still recalling the 42-0 flogging they had endured. 'Did you check with Sammi?' No reply. 'Did you check with Sammi?' Again no reply as he barrelled out towards the front door. 'Get in the truck. Now!'

There are only a few things in the known world that are more frightening then Gibbs' driving but right now, Tony could not, for the life of him, think of what they were. Kate had elected to drive but only Gibbs knew the way. The only thing they could do was hold on and pray that there was nothing coming the other way or had lost their FBI counterparts or McGee.

'Speed hump!'

Kathud

'Ow!'

Smash

Nope, McGee was still with them but for how much longer remained to be seen.

Everyone was slammed against the doors as Gibbs rally slid the MCR Truck into the street corner, slamming down on the breaks to come jerking to a stop just outside number seven. Tony pealed his face off the passenger side window. 'You know, Boss, one of these day's you're gonna end up killin' us.'

'Yep, better you than me, DiNozzo. McGee, stay in the truck.' Gibbs jumped down and glanced up the street, pulling down his cap. 'Where are the others?'

'I think you lost them somewhere between Fornell's front lawn and the end of his street, Boss.'

Kate pointed out the jet black car. 'Here they come.'

Freedman parked across the street and Gibbs watched, amused, as they both climbed unsteadily out onto the pavement. Once they were all on the same side of the road a similar procedure was carried out. Gibbs bashed on the door and after waiting the cursory twenty seconds, kicked in the door with gun drawn.

All five agents stormed into the living room to find the very last thing they expected. Fornell was sitting, feet up in a leather recliner casually sipping coffee. He glared at Gibbs with a mixture of irritation and amusement. 'Jethro. I didn't expect to see you here. What's the big emergency?'

Tony lowered his gun but didn't holster it. 'I take it you didn't make it home last night, Fornell.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Well for starters, you don't show up for work, your lackeys come to us for help and we find your house has been ransacked and everything in it has either been smashed to bits or has blood all over it.'

Fornell slammed his mug down on the table so hard that coffee sloshed everywhere. 'What?' It was more from shock than anger.

'Are you sure you're alright, sir?' Carnon ventured tentatively as Fornell shook coffee off his hand.

A muffled crash and thud came from down the hall followed by an infuriated female voice. 'Ow! For God's sake! How many times have I told you not to leave that lying around? That's the fifth time I've –' she broke off abruptly as she entered the room and saw they had company. She was rather attractive for her age. Dark brown curls reaching below her shoulders and blue eyes that looked like they should be able to glow in the dark. She barely reached Gibbs shoulder yet she gave off the impression that if she wanted you out of the way, size would not be an issue. 'Oh, hey Gibbs. I take it this is not a courtesy call.' It was a statement, not a question as she took in the guns some still had in their hands. 'And you've got my badge.' Hands on hips, she faced Fornell.

Fornell spread his hands in earnest. 'I have my badge. I don't know what you've done with yours. Hey!'

The last part was an involuntary reaction as she pushed him back into the chair and proceeded to reach around to unhook her badge and chain from the back of his belt and was met by only half-hearted resistance. Holding the chained badge in one hand she shoved the other she was holding into his belt. 'This one is mine and I want my fifty bucks that was in it too.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Not very convincing, even for an FBI agent.

She held out her hand and turned up her glare from "I'm slightly annoyed but find this amusing" to "you're walking today".

Within moments a crisp fifty dollar bill was pressed into her palm. Between Carnon, Freedman and Tony, it was almost impossible to tell whose jaw was hanging lower.

Fornell then began the tedious business of introductions. 'Sammi, meet the cowboys.'