Chapter 4
Ron Sacks was a determined man when he wanted to be. And he was determined to take control of his squad, never mind that Evan was the squad leader, elected by DiNozzo and Devereaux.
To further this aim, he approached one of the other squad members. "Look. Here's the way I see it. I'm more experienced. I'm FBI. DiNozzo doesn't like me and that's why I'm not squad leader. If we keep with Morehouse, we'll be in the weeds in no time. If we all petition the CO, he'll put me in charge and we'll be high squad. What do you say?"
Carl eyed Sacks for a moment then snarked, "I say you're a menace. I'm a sheriff's deputy and I've never had anything but grief from a fed. So, I say, sling your hook, dude." And with that he got up and ambled off. Sacks didn't know it, but Carl Weathers reported him to Remy without a qualm.
Next Ron approached the worst, to him, member of the squad. "Lancaster. Hey. You know you're gonna be low man, you're just not up to standards. But, you help me and I'll help you. All we have to do is oust Morehouse as squad leader, get me in the position, and I'll get you a pass. See?"
"Yeah. I see. Count me out. I do not want a pass. I want to pass. Big difference. Fuck off." Lancaster, who refused to tell his first name, also got up and walked off.
Sacks fumed over his rejection all night, tossing and turning, making his bed squeak until someone shouted at him to lay still before they taped him to his rack. He managed to lay still long enough that he fell asleep. He managed to sleep the rest of the night and wake just in time to hear that damn DiNozzo yelling, ''Up! Wake up! Rise and shine!"
He grumbled his way out of the bed and glowered at DiNozzo, thinking, "I'll get you yet."
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The military has all sorts of ways for people to get and disseminate information. One way was 'oral telegraph' or scuttlebutt; another was a simple piece of paper slipped under the door. There were also the 'proper' channels, which were mostly ignored as being untrustworthy and troublesome. Tony got word that Sacks was conniving to take Morehouse's place by both methods. He frowned and said, "Okay. Gloves are off. Bare fuckin' knuckle all the damn way. Sacks so much as breathes funny, and I'm all over him like a bad rash."
Remy just sighed. This was not going to be pretty.
So this morning Tony turned from a relatively benign person, for a TO, into a screaming fiend.
''Up! Wake up! Rise and shine!" Tony waited until everyone was up, beds made with a screaming accompaniment, and announced. "I hear that someone here doesn't like the way I run things. Here's the deal. I don't give a flying fuck if you like me or not. I'm not here to hold your hand, wipe your brow, or cuddle you like your Mommy. I'm here to make sure that you are ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. So, we're gonna run, do PT, hand-to-hand, and swim. You're gonna eat, sleep, and shit Navy. If you don't like that, tough. Ring the bell. You're all a bunch of big, bitchy girls. Now. Double PT this morning, then you're all gonna strip and clean everything that goes bang that I can get my hands on. So move it out."
And move they did. Most of the platoon were shaping up nicely, but one was still struggling badly. He should have become able to do the laps without getting short of breath by now and Tony was worried. He stopped the panting man, saying, "You okay? You don't look good at all." He tipped the man's face up and realized that his lips were decidedly blue. "Shit. That's not good." He glanced around quickly. Medics were all over the place, stationed at convenient stops, just in case. He called one over. "Give him a check. I don't like the look of him at all."
The medic took one look at Jacic and ordered, "Get his shirt off. I want a listen to his chest; heart and lungs." Tony peeled the man out of his shirt and braced him gently.
While the medic checked Jacic out, Remy trotted back to ask, "What?" Tony gave him a quick run down. "Oh, damn. Okay, I'll have Great and Morehouse keep the squads moving and just keep an eye on both of them. You go with Jacic?"
"I am. Thanks." Tony hovered a bit. He hated the thought that he might have contributed to someone being really ill.
The medic shook his head. "I'm calling an ambulance. I do not like the sound of his heart at all. And do not blame yourself. He's working on congestive heart failure, or I miss my guess. This could just have saved his life."
The ambulance arrived with little fanfare and no rubber necking; any individual who was inclined to do so was ordered back to their own concerns. Jacic was put on a gurney and stuffed into the ambulance, Tony at his side.
Sacks took this opportunity to try to sow more discontent. "See. Now we're down another man. DiNozzo doesn't give a shit and he's incompetent enough to get someone hurt. Wonder what that was about, anyway."
CPO Great barked, "Never you mind that. Keep running. Move it."
Sacks gave him a dirty look but caught up with the group. Morehouse insisted that his men keep a 'square', each man spaced three feet from the man in front of him, behind him and to either side. Great did too and they both barked and snarled to keep the spacing right. Remy helped as needed, and they finished their laps in good time.
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Tony jumped down from the ambulance first to get out of the way. People swarmed the back, pulling the gurney out of the ambulance and pushing it into the ER. It wasn't long before Jacic was stripped of his PT uniform, which was cut off and dropped onto the floor; someone kicked it to the side while they stuck things here and there, took blood, applied a pressure cuff, and did other medical things.
Tony just stood to the side to await a report. It wasn't long before a doctor approached him. "You this man's CO?"
"Yeah. What's wrong with him?" Tony peered at his man over the doctor's shoulder.
"Congestive Heart Failure. He's out, permanently. We'll get him stabilized and keep him here for a couple of days. I'd appreciate it if you'd have a word with him, he's afraid that he's in trouble. And get his paperwork ready ASAP." The doctor stepped aside to let Tony into the cubicle.
Tony eased up beside the bed. "You wanted to talk to me?"
Jacic looked awful. He had a cannula under his nose and a bunch of beeping machines hooked up to him. He sighed and started to pull the cannula away but Tony stopped him with a gentle hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I've been feeling a bit under the weather for a couple of days, but I thought I could just work it off. Now what?"
"Well, the docs all seem to think you'll be released from service without prejudice. You'll be out within the week. Congestive heart failure is nothing to mess with. You'll get your pension and ..." Tony waved a hand. "Not sure what else, but you're not in trouble. You didn't ring the bell; you're sick. I'll have your paperwork ready ASAP, and we'll get you home as soon as you're ready. Rest. Stop worrying. It's not good for you." Tony patted Jacic on the shoulder. "Listen to the docs." He left, leaving a much relieved man to cope with his illness and the fact that he was now honorably discharged from service.
Tony caught a ride to the obstacle course complex and rejoined his men. He knew that some sort of announcement had to be made, the men deserved to know what had happened.
As they had finished one run of the Grinder they all gathered around when Tony shouted at them. He waited until they had all dressed their lines then said, "Okay, here's the long and short of it. Jacic is out. He's got congestive heart failure, so he's getting released without censure. He'll be okay as long as he follows doctors' orders and takes his medication. Take ten. As you were."
All the men broke ranks and settled somewhere to rest before they had to run the Grinder again. They broke up into small groups of three or four men, chattering away like Guinea fowl. Everyone had an opinion and wanted to make it known, loudly.
Tony let them squawk and fuss for a bit then yelled, "Shut up. You sound like a bunch of old women. And that's insulting the women. Another run through the Grinder ought to cool you off. Move it!"
A few of the men groaned but everyone got up and started through the Grinder. Tony watched carefully, hoping that no one did anything requiring him to rescue them. This run-through they were lucky; no one did anything stupid. His greatest concerns were the slide for life, the boarding nets, and the barbed wire crawl; he still couldn't believe that someone actually managed to get tangled in a climbing rope.
He was happily contemplating a run without incident when a Seaman First trotted up, saluted, and handed him a manila envelope. "Orders for some of your men, sir."
Tony saluted back, took the envelope and nodded to the seaman. "Thank you, seaman. Dismissed." The seaman hurried off to whatever else he was supposed to be doing.
Tony opened the envelope and read the cover letter. It wasn't that unusual to get special orders from the PTB during training; in this case nearly half his platoon was being dismissed home for deployment. He shook his head but checked his list against the papers he was to hand out. It checked, so he waited until all the men were gathered at the end of the Grinder.
"As I call your names, come to the front." Tony watched as all the men dressed their line. "Adams, Anders, Burke, Jackson, Jones, Kirk, Mathers, Martin, Morehouse, Peterson." The men all took one step forward and returned to attention. Tony nodded once then said, "You're all being deployed. I have your orders here; as soon as I hand them out, you're to return to the barracks, gather your equipment, then get home. You have five days to report to wherever your orders say." He waited while they absorbed that. "Any questions?"
One man stepped forward. "Yes, sir. What about our other stuff?"
"It'll be on your bunks waiting for you. Anyone else?" Tony waited for a moment. "All right, gentlemen. Good luck and dismissed."
The line broke up and the group hurried to get their gear together and head for home.
Tony glanced at Remy, who didn't look that happy about their platoon being reduced to a squad. But, orders were orders, and they'd deal with what they had. As Gran'mere said, "Wish in one hand, shit in the other, and see which one filled up first."
"All right. We're now reduced to a squad ... that does not mean anyone gets out of anything. We have a squad leader: CPO Great. All this means is ... you all get more personal attention." He eyed the group for a moment, then said, "Return to quarters until chow ... say your good-byes."
Scott Sergeant, Caspar Amadei, Kenneth Pavesi, Richard Ash, Leon Vinter, Ron Sacks, Ramses Great, Plato Winter, Willard Smith, and Dick Jameson were only too glad to head for barracks to say good-bye to the other men.
Tony and Remy went to the Officer's Club for lunch, just to change things up and avoid running into higher-up officers that they didn't want to speak with. They were both a bit pissed that half their men had been deployed halfway through training. It didn't make that much difference, but it was annoying.
Tony poked at his b-b-q sandwich for a moment. "Okay. We put off hand-to-hand because no one was shaping up. But most of the men who were still lacking have been deployed... and how stupid is that? But what is, is."
Remy waved a fry as he replied, "Don't sweat the small stuff. We can't do anything about that, so we deal with what we can. We'll institute hand-to-hand starting Monday. It's Thursday, so we stay with the routine tomorrow and Saturday. Sunday is still a day of rest, and we sit down then and redo our plans. Until then, just keep going." He munched down his fry with a satisfied expression.
"Okay. Good. Pass that cup of slaw, will you?" Tony took the slaw and settled in to finish his meal, well content with their plans.
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Gibbs listened to the scuttlebutt floating around the NCO's Club with a frown; half his new shooters were headed for deployment half-trained. He wasn't happy about that but, evidently his idea of half-trained was the Navy's idea of field ready. He wasn't about to argue ―it wouldn't do much good― but he was going to file a formal protest up the line somewhere.
He poked at his food, a very nice pork chop with dressing and green beans, and missed his Pod with a stomach-souring vengeance. He missed everyone a great deal more than he'd expected. His temporary housing was nice, but he missed the odd sounds that living with Remy, Dean, and Cosmo generated. That odd clicking sound that Remy made when he was thinking. The tuneless humming of Dean as he read something, and that scuffing sound that Cosmo made as he walked so he wouldn't sneak up on someone accidentally. And the whoosh of the burner on the furnace when it came on. There were so many little things that woke him up in the middle of the night because they weren't there. And he missed his boat.
He finished his chop and beer. When the server came around, he ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie. As he finished he managed to overhear another piece of scuttlebutt. A PO named Sacks was trying to suborn his squad. Gibbs rubbed his face; he'd have to tell Tony about that, even though it seemed that the person who conveyed the tidbit of news said that the CO was more pissed over the complaining than the complaints. Saying that DiNozzo was prejudiced was like saying snow was hot.
He frowned; he was pretty sure he knew who the gossipers were referring to and was not best pleased. He wasn't that fond of Ron Sacks; the man was a nuisance at best, a menace at worst. If he was undermining Tony's authority, there was going to be trouble. He decided to take a wait-and-see attitude, but tolerate no shit. He wondered if Tony and Remy might be up for a visit, then decided that, as it was on his way home, he might as well drop in that evening.
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Tim McGee was not a happy camper. Abby was not happy either. They'd been working cold cases to get Cosmo, Dean, and Ned up to speed, but NCIS was suddenly catching cases left and right. Ducky and Jimmy were swamped and struggling, and the other teams were up to their necks in smuggling and one thing and another. The MCRT was needed and not ready.
Vance was pissed because SecNav was on his back. And he was passing the grief down. So Tim had to take an inadequately trained team into the field. This, he knew, was not going to turn out well.
He tried to call either Gibbs or DiNozzo, but both their NCIS phones rolled over to an unavailable until date message. He wondered if he could recall either man but was pretty sure it wasn't going to work. It didn't.
Tim pulled his team in and called a meeting in Abby's lab.
Abby got them all situated around her office; no one was allowed to lean on her babies. "Okay, what's up?"
Tim filled her in then finished, "No insult intended, but I'm not competent to do an investigation with three probies. Just ... no. Not happening."
Cosmo shrugged fatalistically. "But it is, and no offense taken."
Dean frowned then asked, "Do you think Vance actually knows who's on this team right now?"
"Has to ... he's the director." Tim glowered at Abby.
"Don't look at me in that tone of voice. I didn't do anything." Abby frowned right back.
Tim realized what he was doing and said, "Sorry, Abby, I was thinking. I don't like this. What is Vance up to?"
.
Tobias Fornell was also very unhappy. He had an odd trail to follow, and all it did was lead to dead ends and frustration. He missed Ron Sacks. The man was a miserable person in a lot of ways, petty and jealous. But he was a good investigator and a bulldog when he got his teeth into something.
He started on another round of phone calls and face-to-face meetings, trying to pin down what was actually going on. They'd had three murders and a missing person from the same company, and the managers were frantic. Some very sensitive information was missing, and everyone was screaming for the FBI to find the USB stick and the murderer. They assumed that it was the missing person, but things didn't add up. He grumbled as he waited for someone to answer his calls.
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Tony eyed his men. It was after lunch and time to get back to work. "Okay. We're down to ten men, one squad. That means that you're all in for a fair share of our attention. Great, move 'em out."
The afternoon would be filled with repetitions of PT and more running. A bit of swimming would round out the day. Tony was not looking forward to it
Sacks wasn't looking forward to it either. He was frustrated and bored. What he'd been thinking to get himself into this mess was more than he could remember.
Tony watched as Sacks did pull-ups in a half-hearted manner. He marched over and roared, "Sacks! What the hell? Put a little effort into it." He eyed Sacks as he rolled his eyes. "And do not roll your eyes at me. Start again." Sacks scowled then began again. "And count out loud."
Sacks started counting his reps out loud, adding 'sir' after each number. Tony stood right in front of him and eyeballed him like he was going to disappear if he didn't. Remy managed the rest of the diminished group with the help of Squad Leader Great.
Tony ambled around behind Sacks, leaned over, and hissed in his ear. "I hear via scuttlebutt that you're trying to undermine my authority. I'd stop that right now. I do not care that your sensitive, special little snow-flake feelings are hurt. I don't care that you think you ought to be squad leader. We all live with disappointments. Get over it. Knuckle down and do your duty. It'll all be over in seven more days."
Sacks grunted. "Eight."
"We get Sunday off for personal. So seven."
Tony moved away a bit and watched as Sacks finished his pull-ups.
Ron Sacks, for his part, was just pissed that DiNozzo had figured out what he was up to. He snorted then snarled, as he moved to do sit-ups, "Rich, spoiled-rotten jerk."
Tony thought about that for a moment then replied, "Daddy's rich. I lived in boarding schools and military academies from the time my Mom died until I went to college. Mom died when I was eight. I earned my way through on sport scholarships because Daddy forgot I even existed after I refused to go to Harvard as a legacy." He breathed heavily for a moment then snarled, "I always try to be fair, but you're gettin on my last nerve. So get over yourself or you'll find out how big an asshole I can be ... without breaking a single reg. And you just doubled your sets, so get moving."
Sacks groaned. He was well aware that he was treading on really thin ice. He had actually violated several regs by trying to undermine Tony's authority with the platoon. And he also knew that it was insubordination to grumble at Tony behind his back, poking the bear just to see if he would lose his temper. He just couldn't seem to help himself. He started in on the second round of PT knowing he had brought this on himself. He wondered if Tony had told him the truth and resolved to find out.
Gibbs eyed his roster for the next week and sighed. As Abby would say; This was going to be so much fun…not. He was expected to run AJ's group through the refresher weapons course. And oversee the h-2-h training. It wouldn't be that bad, as the group was so small, but more than fifteen men, and he'd need another set of eyes, as Remy and AJ were expected to provide opponents for the better members of their group. In other words, they got to kick the shit out of the best fighters. Gibbs chuckled to himself. He might invite Fornell up just to see that.
He made some notes, then settled back to watch TV for the evening; he wasn't best pleased when his phone rang at 1900.
"Gibbs."
"Jet. It's Tobias."
Gibbs rolled his eyes to himself. "Toby. What's up? What the heck are you calling me at this time of night for?"
"Got a triad. Murder, disappearance, and missing intel. Fucking dead end after dead end. I need Ron."
Gibbs frowned. "Sorry. Can't have him. If you need some help, get hold of Tim. He's Team Lead until I get back. And ... sit down. His team consists of Dean, Cos, and Ned Dorneget."
Tobias choked on his own spit. Gibbs waited patiently until he'd cleared his throat and croaked, "Wa?"
"Vance wants to promote cohesiveness within the group. In other words, he's sucking up to HR, Captain Rafe McKinley, and who knows who else. McKinley likes having Dean, Cos, and Remy hang around at NCIS; keeps 'em out of trouble, and they're getting training as investigators. New skill set. But they're not ready to take on an investigation on their own, especially with Tim as lead. Tim's smart as hell, but still a bit grassy."
"Yeah. And I'm stuck with two men instead of three. Allan and John are good, but we're running around in circles. Every fuckin' clue we run down, leads to another or a dead end. With a corpse at the center of it two times. I'm about at my wits' end. And the Director is making rumbling sounds about reassigning the case. It's mine, damnit!"
Gibbs chuckled a bit at that. "I know. No one takes a case from either of us. So ... what do you want to do?"
"Don't know what I can get away with. Best case scenario ... you're all back in DC tomorrow. Worst case? I get my case taken away from me." Tobias sighed. "Hate that idea."
Gibbs thought for a bit. "Okay. Here's the way I see it. Just bring all your case files and whatever else you've got and we'll brainstorm it here. If you could get Tim and the rest here, that'd be good. Sacks is here and AJ and Remy. And ... while I'm at it. Your boy is being a real fuckin' pain in the ass. If he winds AJ up too much, he's gonna get put on report, and you know how that's going to look. Have a damn word with 'im, will you?"
"Sure. I don't know what kind of bug he's got up his butt about DiNozzo, but he's been after him from day one. Sniping at him, badmouthing him and ... murder? I seriously ripped him a new one about that." Tobias eyed his watch. "It's gettin' late. I'll see what I can do about gettin' over to see you in person. I'll bring everything with me ... or at least digital copies. Thanks."
"Sure thing. Let me know when you're gonna show. Bye." And with that he hung up. "Damn it. Fornell, what the hell have you gotten your stupid self into now?" He went to bed, but didn't sleep much. Instead he tossed and turned, trying to figure out how to get everything together.
,
Tony and Remy watched their squad with interest. They were starting h-2-h now as everyone seemed to be getting bored, and Gibbs wanted to wait on anything weapon-related until next week. So, other than the mandatory cleaning of the dummy weapons, there was nothing to do on that front until next week.
Tony divided the group into pairs the easy way, line the men up and have the first in line shout 'one!' then the next, 'two!' and down the line alternating one and two. Then have all the twos take two steps forward about face then one sideways step. "The man you are now facing is your opponent. Get to the sides, and no changing partners behind my back ... which will be in Master Chief Petty Officer Devereaux' face."
They wound up paired off with Ron facing Ramses, Scott Sergeant, a sheriff's deputy from Oklahoma facing Caspar Amadei, a Sheriff's deputy from North Dakota; Kenneth Pavesi, a Highway patrolman from Colorado facing Richard Ash, a cop from Chicago; Leon Vinter, a cop from St Louis facing Plato Winter, a bus driver also from St Louis; and Willard Smith, a taxi driver from NYC facing Dick Jameson, manager of a McDonalds in Lima, Ohio.
It was quickly obvious that just because you were in law enforcement didn't mean you could actually fight. Sergeant beat Amadei because he was bigger, Ash beat Pavesi because he was just better, Winter beat Vinter by a hair, and Smith and Jameson wound up in a tie as Smith got a choke hold on Jameson but couldn't actually get him down. Great put Sacks in a bind, belly down, and kept him there until Remy called it because Sacks wouldn't tap out.
Remy eyed Sacks for a moment then offered, "In real life, sometime it bedda to tap and lie. Oui?"
Sacks got an odd look on his face then nodded. "Yeah."
Tony blew his whistle and yelled, "Well, that was mostly bad. You're all fair but you could be much better. I'm not going to lose one of you because some drugged-out perp sticks a knife in you. I'd be very pissed."
Remy chivvied the group back into line. He started critiquing their fights, picking out every error. Ron was not that happy about it and mumbled, "Yeah, pick nits. Not like this is going to make or break us."
Tony overheard and snarled, "Mats! Now!"
Remy just covered his eyes with one hand, elbow braced on his other arm and moaned, "Oh, man. Mat time with AJ. Not good." He dropped his arms, eyed the rest of the men, and snarled. "Watch! Learn!"
When they hit the middle of the mats, Tony pulled off his blouse and tossed it aside, leaving him in t-shirt, pants and boots.
Tony just stared at Sacks for a moment then said, "Okay, you think you're such hot shit? Show me. I'm gonna beat you like a drum."
Ron eyed Tony back then said, "Bring it."
Tony stepped back and gave Sacks room to run, which he took. They circled for a bit, then Sacks tried a simple take-down that worked on most perps. It didn't work on Tony, only making him snort as he turned his shoulder to roll Sacks' grab for it. Tony jabbed Sacks in the gut then put him in a head lock. Sacks struggled for a moment then tried to clap out. Tony hissed in his ear, "No. You're so damn good, get out, 'cause I'm not lettin' go."
Sacks squirmed and kicked a bit, then did the only thing he could think of: he punched Tony in the groin. Unfortunately, Tony was one of those men whose delicate bits weren't that delicate. And wearing the mandatory athletic cup kept the blow from doing any damage. All that it did was piss him off.
"Asshole." Tony cranked down on Sacks' neck, choking him nearly out. After he was sure Sacks had the message, he turned loose of his opponent and stepped back, dropping him to one knee. Tony waited to see if Sacks had learned a lesson. It seemed that he had not.
Instead of backing up and making the peace sign ―not the hippy one, the martial arts one― Sacks decided to bring it on again. This was not the wisest move, as Tony was more than just pissed now. But Sacks had never seen Tony in any mode other than his idiot-frat-boy persona, so he made a big mistake. He decided to try to wrestle Tony. He managed to get a grip on Tony's t-shirt.
Tony recognized the pull for what it was: an attempt to put him off balance and close with him. He pulled away, letting Sacks have his shirt. He simply ducked his head and let Sacks pull the shirt over it and down his arms. Sacks wound up with a shirt dangling from his hand and Tony's arm around his neck in a choke hold, again.
Tony held him with one arm around his neck and the other hand on the top of his head. "Sixty-six pounds of pressure. Won't break a bone, despite what the movies say. But it will rupture a disk and leave your tango in a world of hurt. Then you stab them." He poked Sacks in the kidney a couple of times. "Okay, Sacks, back in line." He let Sacks go, watched him return to the line then went to get his t-shirt, which Sacks had dropped on the mat.
Several gasps let him know that he'd forgotten one small thing; while his scars were nowhere near as bad as they used to be, they were still visible, especially when he had a tan. He didn't bother to turn around, he just picked up his shirt and put it on; Remy handed him his blouse which he also donned. "And that's the result of being captured by religious fanatics. I don't recommend the experience."
He did notice that Sacks looked decidedly green.
No one said anything more. Tony set them to work on different holds, throws, and counters while he and Remy walked around offering advice and criticism.
Ramses Great was getting really tired of Ron Sacks. He knew the jerk was FBI. He knew that Ron thought he was better than anyone else. He also knew that there was going to be trouble if Ron didn't shut up. The other men were very aware that the whole squad might wind up on report if he kept up his attempts to undermine the CO's authority. He just wasn't sure what to do about it.
CPO Ash sidled up to Squad Leader Great, leaned against the same tree he was leaning on and said, "If you don't do something about Sacks, we will. He's gonna get us all put on report and in all sorts of trouble. I do not need a black mark on my record because Mr-I'm-FBI gets his nuts in a wringer."
Squad Leader Great sighed. "Okay. I know he's trouble. I'll report him to TO DiNozzo end of watch. I hate to ... it looks bad on all of us. But it's gonna look worse if we don't. Damn."
"Yeah." Ash walked off to tell the others that Great was going to bust Sacks to the TO at end of watch. They all heaved silent sighs of relief.
Tony called, "Chow. Eat, rest, be ready for more PT."
Everyone hurried back to barracks to try to clean up a bit before chow. Tony and Remy left them to it. They wanted to clean up themselves.
Tony was very displeased to see Ramses Great hovering at his door. He saluted then said, "CPO Great? To what do I owe this ... pleasure?"
Ramses saluted then sighed. "Permission to speak, sir?"
Tony nodded. "Spit it out before it chokes you."
"You gotta do something about Sacks. I know you've got some sort of history and I don't care. He's trying to sow discontent and insubordination amongst the men. I don't like it. I've told him to cut it out but he just smirks at me like I'm some sort of joke and keeps right on." He pulled a report out of a pocket and unfolded it. He gave it to Tony then said, "It's all there. And countersigned by everyone on the squad. We'd like him ... gone. Or at least under ..." he stopped, rubbed the back of his head and said, "Don't know what. Just make him stop."
Tony read the report then nodded. "I'll speak to him. Thank you. Dismissed." He tucked the papers under his arm, saluted, then waited while Great took off for the galley to try to get something decent to eat before it was all gone.
Tony read the report carefully and realized that his attempt to be more than fair to Sacks, as he hated the man with a purple passion, had backfired on him. He now had a choice to make: kick the report up a level, or deal. He decided that wait-and-see wasn't going to cut it; he was going to have to speak to Sacks. If that didn't work, he was going to write a report of his own and send the whole mess up the line; CoC wasn't always a bitch.
After a hurried lunch, Remy took charge of the squad, sending them to an obstacle course they hadn't run yet. Tony, on the other hand, called Sacks over. "Sacks, we're gonna have to talk."
Sacks eyed him then sneered, "Someone having trouble keeping his command in order?"
"No, I'm havin' a fuckin' hard time not smackin' the shit out of you. You're a hair's breadth from gettin' put on report by Great. If you don't stop messin' around, tryin' to get the men to mutiny, you're gonna wind up in the brig. Think, man. I'm your training officer whether you like it or not. Just suck it up and deal. Make the most of this. I'm not gonna lighten up on you, or hammer you ... unless you keep this shit up. If I hear a breath of a rumor of a possibility that you're up to the same tricks, I'm gonna come down on you like a ton of bricks. You got me?"
Sacks eyed him then shrugged. "Okay, okay. Question? Where the hell did you get that thousand-yard, murder-you-in-your-sleep gaze ... and those scars?"
Tony looked at him for a moment, then poked hard him in the chest with a finger. "I tell you ... you straighten up and fly right. You give no shit to anyone. Keep your head down, work hard, and I do not see you. Got me?"
"Yeah." Sacks prepared himself for some sob story.
Tony just dragged him to a picnic table and pointed, "Sit." Sacks sat and Tony started talking. After he was done, Sacks had to puke. "Sissy."
"Shut up." Sacks wiped his mouth on a tissue, tossed it in the trash then manned up. "Sorry. I... that's just... shit. I'll not only back off but apologize in front of the squad."
Tony shook his head. "Not necessary. The apology, I mean. the rest... you better back off or I'll ride you like Adam's Ass."
Sacks swallowed a bit thickly then nodded. "You got it... Sir."
"Go eat." Tony trotted off to find something for himself.
He wound up eating at home. The galley was too noisy, and he'd seen his immediate superior, so he'd decided to skip the galley altogether and just fix himself something.
Remy showed up as he was putting out fixin's, so he made two sandwiches and added a handful of chips.
"Wonder why the English call 'em crisps?" Tony eyed the chip in his hand for a moment then flinched slightly as Gibbs' hand popped over his shoulder, snatched the chip then disappeared.
Gibbs crunched the chip as he demanded. "Make me one."
Tony just handed his over. "Here, have this one."
"Thanks." Gibbs took a big bite, chewed then swallowed. "Good."
Tony slapped the last of the cold cuts between the halves of a bun, added cheese and lettuce, smeared on mustard, then took a bite. "Thanks."
Gibbs swallowed his second bite then remarked, "Heard about your shirt. Don't think that's hurt you a bit."
Tony nodded. "Didn't think so either. Sacks and I had a bit of a talk."
Gibbs made an enquiring noise; Remy flat out asked, "So ... how'd that work out?"
Tony shrugged, "He puked."
Gibbs grumbled, "Nice," in a disgusted tone.
"Yeah. I think I finally got through to him. He's still on the razor's edge of gettin' a chicken dinner. I'm not puttin' up with him."
Gibbs decided to drop the shoe before they got too comfortable. "We're up. Fornell is up to his eyeballs in a mess. He's bringing all his files here for us to go over. We've got tomorrow and Sunday to break this case."
Tony rolled his eyes then snarked, "And he can't deal by himself? Big ass FBI agent that he is."
"Nope." Gibbs popped the P. "He's down his best agent."
Remy groaned, then snarked, "An' what does that say about his team?"
Gibbs swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. "Not much."
Tony had a snicker fit which didn't end until Gibbs and Remy were nearly done cleaning the galley kitchen.
Gibbs rubbed his face. "So ... you think Sacks has got his head out of his ass or is there going to be more trouble?"
Remy thought about that while Tony maintained a stoic face. Remy finally offered, "Might be that a threat of gettin' written up did the trick ... might not."
"We'll see. So how are we supposed to work this?" Tony wasn't looking forward to trying to work a case between dealing with the ten remaining reservists. He actually thought that merging his squad with another group was a better idea. The men were getting the training they needed, but it was a bit of a waste of resources. He wondered vaguely if he ought to include all the LEO's in this case but realized that they didn't have the clearance to deal with it. Except for Sacks, and he knew that that man was going to be all up in his face the second Fornell showed.
Gibbs rubbed his face. "This is such a waste of your talents ... you're a good TO but ... you're a better investigator. Wonder if the CO would sign off on us ... never mind. We'll deal."
Tony grumbled. "I'd love to ditch this whole TO thing, but duty calls and I must answer."
Gibbs grimaced, "You are not going to start quoting Admirals, are you?"
Remy swatted Tony on the shoulder. "He do an' I smack 'im again. Not puttin' up wit' dat, me."
Tony swatted Remy back. "Jerk."
"Bitch."
Remy passed Tony a cup of coffee and settled in to drink his own while Tony and Gibbs went over next week's exercises.
.
The Base CO wasn't very happy, but he was a good sailor and followed orders. In this case, the orders were that he was to reassign LtCmdr DiNozzo's squad and give him every possible resource he needed. It seemed that someone was committing espionage, murder, and only NCIS knew what else, and his expertise was needed to catch the people responsible. And some CPO named Sacks and a MCPO named Devereaux were also needed. He just shrugged and told his aide to cut the orders.
He checked to see where they were quartered and decided that the housing was adequate. Just as he was turning to other concerns, he got a call from the Office of the Commandant of the Marine Corps. They politely requested that Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs be assigned to LtCmdr DiNozzo's command until further notice. He just grumbled a bit and cut orders. He had no idea why DiNozzo might need a Master Guns but, in for a penny, in for a pound.
The aide just filled in the proper forms, printed out a copy, and handed them off to someone to deliver. He grumbled a bit as he now had to figure out where the squad was going. Since several squads had been deployed in toto, he had several platoons to choose from.
.