Chapter 7

Kept In the Dark

It was less than fifty long, drawn out minutes into the total lockdown and Ducky (he still though of himself as "Ducky" rather than "Illya" – that past was too deeply buried) was surprised to find they weren't at each other's throats – metaphorically speaking. Even though visibility was next to none if Napoleon tried anything he would find himself singing soprano for a least a week. The welcome silence wasn't to last.

'You know what this reminds me of? This reminds me of –'

'Tony, if you say Alien, I will throw my calculator at you.'

'Actually, McGeek, this is nothing like Alien – there's no cheesy green lighting. I was thinking more along the lines of –'

'Tony, please – no more movies.'

'Harry Dean Stanton –'

'DiNozzo!'

'Sorry Boss. Anyone got an IPod we can plug into the speakers? I've got a sudden urge to sing "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place" or "Stuck In the Middle With You"'

They knew they couldn't be seen but all the same, seven pairs of eyes rolled in their sockets.

'Tony, there's no power. The speakers run off the mains.'

'Probie, you think I don't know that? Hey Kate, let's play charades.'

'It's dark, Tony.'

'Twister then. Come on! It'll be fun!'

'Ow! DiNutso! That's me!'

'Sorry Fornell – forgot you were here.'

'You will be sorry if you don't take your hand off my –'

Unseen hands flew to ears as a short, sharp whistle silenced the mounting row. Gibbs' most authoritative voice rang out from somewhere in the direction of his desk chair.

'DiNozzo! Stay away from Kate and Fornell. Fornell, Sammi – put your gun down! If anyone's gonna be doin' any shootin' it's me! Another twenty minutes and we'll have lights again so everyone just stay still!'

Zip

Smack

Kathud

'OW!'

'I told you not to Napoleon.'

Even in the pitch black you could almost see Ducky's grin silently spreading from ear to ear.

With an electronic whir, a click and occasional flicker the power returned to the lighting, air conditioning systems and the lifts but nothing else. Precautions still had to be taken even though any immediate danger would seem to have passed. An interesting sight met the team leader's eyes as he swung around in his chair;

Kate was curled cat like next to her desk, Tony had taken over the entire walkway, splayed out and reclined as if he was on a La-Z-boy sofa instead of the floor of a federal building. Fornell had backed himself up between McGee's filing cabinet and Tony's desk and with one hand on his gun he was creating the distinct impression that he wanted to get as far away from the senior field agent as possible. Sammi had managed to snare herself McGee's chair and was kicked back with feet on his desk while McGee himself was cross legged in front. But the most intriguing of situations befell their visitor. Napoleon was splayed out on his front on the floor between the last desks looking very much like he would rather be anywhere else. Ducky had perched himself regally atop his partner and seemed to be taking great delight in his current seat's apparent discomfort.

Double takes were needed as Tony and Kate picked themselves off the floor, while Fornell unwedged himself from his convenient hiding hole, the latter two putting as much distance between themselves and Tony as they could casually muster. Sammi just turned her head and smiled. Ducky, eyes twinkling, grinned up at the questioning and rather astonished gazes.

'I warned him not to.' And shrugging dramatically he made as much of a show of getting up as possible, adding the final touch of nudging Napoleon with his heel right in the tender spot he had created. It seemed more than just Solo's ego had been bruised. If looks could kill, everyone in his line of sight would have dug themselves very quickly six feet into the earth.

Fornell used this slight diversion to his advantage; grabbing Gibbs none too gently by the elbow and steering him towards their usual "conference room" with a muttered 'We need to talk'.

Once his elbow was free, Gibbs followed just a pace or two behind, allowing the FBI agent to precede him into the lift. Once the doors pinged shut and the uneasy descending feeling began Gibbs punched the emergency stop switch with more force than was strictly necessary. The lift juddered to a stop, bathing the occupants in an eerie bluish white glow which both had become quite accustomed to and Gibbs began his ranting and raving.

'Do you have any idea what the hell anyone is talking about and how the hell did some maniac bitch get up on our screen? One minute Ducky is Ducky and now he's supposed to be some Russian spy from some secret organisation called UNCLE, which I'm not convinced even exists or ever did!'

Fornell sighed and tipped his head back against the cool metal of the lift. It was just one of those days. 'Well somebody is and they're pretty damn sure that your ME is this Kuryakin person and is out to take him down, Jethro. Whether you are convinced or not, that woman could just be insane but that Solo character is another matter.' Lapsing into silence for a minute or two, he continued to study the ceiling of their box. 'Did you see the way those two look at each other?'

Gibbs' hand twitched in need of a coffee cup to hold. 'Yeah, tension much. If we don't get them a room soon they might just make Abby's day and both spontaneously combust. Or at least it looked that way before.' Gibbs shrugged slightly, rubbed his face with a hand and sighed. 'I need coffee. I need to know how a camera got in here, what the bottom line is and what the hell it is you're not telling me Tobias.'

Fornell reached out with a hand and placed it on Gibbs' upper arm, the closest he could get to his shoulder. 'Don't forget my sniper squad, Jethro.'

'How could I forget? Everything went to hell in a basket when we stormed your house. I'd hate to have your cleaning bill.' He sighed again and reached for the 'on' switch but found his hand stopped by Fornell's.

'Maybe it is time the FBI came clean in all this.'

'Ya think?' Gibbs shrugged the hand off. 'If you've got the answers to all this but just didn't feel like sharing Tobias, so help me God, I will beat you down like a Probie on his first assignment!' Gibbs practically roared in his face.

Fornell took a step back before answering. 'We've known about UNCLE since the late fifties, maybe decades before that. Unofficially, at any rate – depends who you talk to. J. Edgar Hoover was none to happy when they started sticking their noses into everything, but he couldn't prevent it either. Apparently, they had their claws into every country and had the authority to match. When they brought Kuryakin in, in the early sixties, we started surveillance or at least we tried. Kuryakin was a slippery little bastard, shook every one of our tails. Made the Bureau chief insane.'

'That's no great feat, Fornell.' Gibbs was not in an agreeing mood.

'You didn't know our chief back then. Trust me, you didn't want to – he was a bigger bastard than you and had the personality to match. Anyhow, UNCLE went about its business, we went about ours and nary the two met – at least never more than we had to and we always kept at least an arm's length from those two.' He jerked his head toward the closed doors.

'Solo and Duck…Kuryakin?'

Fornell nodded, pushing himself off the wall and crossing his arms across his chest. 'UNCLE's golden boys – if you believe a third of the rumours that followed them, they've done everything from halting nuclear annihilation to killing Hitler…again. Whoever's after the Russian isn't someone to mess with, Jethro and I doubt even you could bully them into submission.' Fornell reached out again and touched Gibbs' arm tentatively. 'And we need to be together on this one. No more screw ups.'

Gibbs looked down at Fornell's hand and then back up to his face, steel blue eyes boring into his own unwavering gaze. Several different emotions fought for prominence. Indifference finally won out. 'Something else you wanna tell me, Tobias?'

'Ah, no…well, yes, but it can wait…for now, I suppose.'

'Can I have my arm back, or were you planning on keeping it as a souvenir?'

Fornell jerked his hand away, realising what exactly was meant by the jibe.

'Ugh, don't even joke. After toes, fingers and meat puzzles, that's not as funny as it could be. It almost rates on the DiNutso scale on a good day.'

With a hidden smile lighting his eyes, Gibbs flicked the 'on' switch that would return them to the bull pen just as his mobile rang.

'Yeah, Gibbs.'

Abby's hyperactive voice bubbled out from the speaker, loud enough that even Fornell heard her side of the conversation and Gibbs took the precaution to move the phone fractionally away from his ear.

'Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs! We found something down in autopsy! When the lights came back on I –'

'Abs – who is "we".'

'Me and Jimmy, yeah Gibbs, when the lights came back on I went down to autopsy hoping Duckman was there – and he wasn't! I haven't seen him all day Gibbs!' Her fear was beginning to seep into her voice.

'Just get to the point, Abs.'

As much as Gibbs liked Abby, sometimes her round-the-world explanations, much like Ducky's, often got rather tiresome.

'One of the freezers isn't a freezer!'

Sensing an impending explanation, Gibbs cut her off.

'That's great, Abs. We'll be right down.'

'But, Gibbs –'

He hung up meeting Fornell's even more confused gaze. Just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder or more complicated today. Well that's rule eight for you.