Chapter 8

Stone Walled and White Washed

Tony very quickly hid the wad of used note paper he was about to throw in McGee's general direction in his desk draw as Gibbs strode double speed out of the lift with Fornell having to practically raise his speed to a canter to match the taller man's stride and keep virtually at his heals. The taller man seemed too preoccupied to even give DiNozzo a cursory whack in passing.

'Autopsy, now!'

Once Gibbs was out of sight, Tony lobbed the paper at Kate instead, only to be practically buried under a torrent of combined paper from Kate, McGee and Sammi.

Abby nearly jumped out of her spiked, platform boots as the autopsy doors hissed open to declare her silver haired fox.

'Gibbs! Where are the –'

She cut herself off as the doors opened again admitting Fornell, Tony, McGee, Kate, Sammi, Napoleon and finally Illya.

'Where's Ducky? Ooh, Gibbs. Who's the hot new blond?'

Tony and McGee's jaws dropped simultaneously at the sheer audacity of the forensic expert and at the bluntness of her subconscious admittance that she had not picked up on even the slightest resembalence to their resident ME. Napoleon smiled and sidled up to Abby, raising an eyebrow at his partner as he did so; it was time to put the charm to work. Illya, realising the inquiry was about him, (he had caught himself trying to spot this "hot new blond") laughed. Palmer, who had previously been hiding in the shadows, sounded even more nervous with each passing event. 'Uh, I think you'll find, uh, that is Doctor Mallard.'

Masking his Russian accent and once again adopting the persona of "Ducky", Illya praised his young assistant.

'Very good, Mr. Palmer. Although a DNA test can be arranged if you prefer more concrete proof.'

Abby's eyes narrowed slightly then widened to the size of saucers. 'Duckman? WOW!'

Gibbs steered the conversation back on track before Abby had a chance to ask what was happening with lunch today.

'Why are we down here, Abs?'

Abby was practically bouncing up and down as if she was recalling her meeting with a real live vampire.

'Like I said before, Gibbs, I came down here when the lights came back on to see Duckman who was still a no show. Jimmy was cleaning one of the cold bays then suddenly the section just pushed out and away and there was some steps leading down into a passageway. We slammed the door shut and called you.'

'That's great work Abs.'

'Yeah,' Tony echoed. 'Nice work autopsy gremlin. OW! Boss, what was that for?' He lapsed into silence, rubbing the back of his, now sore, head.

Ducky narrowed his eyes at his dark haired friend who was trying, unsuccessfully, to appear taller and more impressive than Abby. 'Napoleon, I thought all secret passageways, rooms and phone connections were blocked off or destroyed by the end of the war?'

'Well,' Napoleon marked the Goth as a lost cause and focused his attention instead at the handle of the indicated door. 'I didn't even know any existed around here and I was head honcho. I suppose it could be THRUSH. In that case, I hope you still have some exploding buttons.'

'Hang on a minute,' Ducky shoved Napoleon out of the way to read the plaque. '107, that's the one that young woman was in.'

'What young woman?' Napoleon just had to ask.

With a twist of his wrist his blond partner opened the door and, using Napoleon as leverage, hoisted himself up until he could see the inside. His triumphant 'Aha!' was quickly followed by a grinding sound as the floors of each slab split in two and retracted into the walls of the adjoining storage areas. A long, narrow staircase trailed off into the gloom.

Tony stuck his head through and sniffed, 'Talk about cliché. Next thing we know the bookcase in the Director's office will open into a spare bedroom.'

Sammi pulled him away so she could have a look. 'You should see my house. I built it from the ground up entirely out of movie clichés. I have sliding bookcases, the Batman and Robin fire pole, the Tracy Island wall photos - the whole shebang.' Sliding her gun from her UNCLE issue shoulder holster and a torch from her boot she lifted and lowered herself onto the first step.

Illya and Napoleon tapped her on the shoulder, each with their guns and torches drawn. 'Maybe we should go first.'

Napoleon took the lead and Illya had just enough time to ask, 'You coming Jethro?' before he was forcibly pushed down into the tunnel by an impatient Sammi.

Fornell mooched his way around the taller agents, 'Why do I get the feeling we're being left out of something big, and don't use rules four or seven.' He pointed an accusing finger at Gibbs' disappearing back.

The tunnel was barely wide enough for one average sized person to maneuver properly, so when you factor in four highly trained agents and a single minded woman all jostling for the head position you have a major problem.

'This is an FBI problem so let me through!' Fornell tried to push past Gibbs in the narrow passageway and found himself wedged in with his back against the stone wall with the rest of his body pressed hard up against Gibbs' front in a rather awkward manner. He didn't dare hope the amusement in Gibbs' voice was real instead of imagined.

'Seeing as this is the NCIS building, I have jurisdiction and if I had let my team tag along I would shoot you now.'

Fornell tried and failed to shrug dramatically in the confined space and Gibbs pleaded to the high heavens that what he could feel pushing into his side was an FBI issue Sig Saucer.

'So shoot me, Gibbs, and then you can do the paperwork and cop the blocking from both directors.'

'So move, Fornell, so I can get to my gun. I don't care one way or the other just move!'

Failing another dramatic shrug, Fornell seriously hoped Gibbs wouldn't notice he was talking more time and effort than was strictly necessary to extract himself from their compromising position. He chose to take the lead, silently hoping the NCIS agent wouldn't notice the scarlet blush creeping its way down from the tips of his ears.

Sammi's impatient voice drifted down the passage. Thankfully she was to busy reenacting the Woman's Liberation Front to notice the exchange. 'Would you two please try and keep up. I don't feel like dying today because you two can't behave and cut the jurisdiction crap!'

'Ooh,' Napoleon's voice entered the mix as the pair drew closer to the three up ahead. 'I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…'

'Napoleon if you say 'I', 'P' or 'D' I will shove my torch so far up your…'

'SWITCH, Illya, SWITCH! As in LIGHT switch.'

Napoleon's triumphant cry was followed by a very bright light at the end of the tunnel and this got Gibbs wondering; since when did ancient stone passageways have electric lighting? Nothing could possibly be left to surprise him today. Not even Fornell's behaviour.

Illya led the way as the tunnel widened out into a gleaming white box barely large enough for four let alone the five of them. Sammi, being the smallest, tucked herself away against the wall behind Illya as Napoleon effectively sandwiched his partner in without realising and Gibbs, once again, found himself jammed up between a wall and Fornell. The universe, he reasoned, has a bizarre sense of humour. Illya seemed perfectly happy despite a constant prodding in his shoulder blades by a very bony finger attached to a very irritable Sammi.

'Decontamination chamber. It appears we have found one of THRUSH's long lost laboratories.' He grinned as he eyes ran up and down the wall immediately in front of him. Napoleon couldn't have been less enthusiastic about walking into a potentially hostile enemy lab. 'Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself partner mine. Any brilliant ideas on how to get us OUT of here?'

Without talking his eyes off the wall, Illya while grinning like the Russian equivalent of a Cheshire cat, pushed firmly against the panel in front of him, watching as it swung up and out. 'As a matter of fact Napoleon, yes.'

Sammi made another impatient jab at Illya's shoulder blades, forcing him out of the confined space first. The others gladly followed suit, moving warily out into a fully stocked and fully operational THRUSH laboratory.

Five unique curses in French, Russian, German and English echoed off the pale walls as the door of the decontamination room slammed shut, effectively cutting off their only apparent escape route just as the power cut.

'What is it with this building of yours and a lack of power?'

Fornell spat as he stepped backwards onto Gibbs' foot and found himself face down on the floor, tasting blood.

'Thanks a lot Gibbs! First stone walled now white washed!'