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Chapter 3: Dead Man Frozen
"Wish we had gotten something to eat before we headed clear out here to the middle of nowhere. I'm starving," McGee lamented.
Tony reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a package of Nutter Butters. "Here, McHungry. Eat."
McGee examined the package for tampering. "What did you do to it?"
Tony splayed his right hand across his chest, feigning hurt. "Nothing. Here, take it."
"Seriously? Thanks, Tony. You want some?"
Tony frowned. "Nah, it will just make me thirsty. Thirstier."
McGee opened the package, the aroma making his mouth water. "That's actually really thoughtful, Tony. I'm not sure what to think, but thanks." McGee shoved one in his mouth and enjoyed it loudly.
"Don't thank me too much—it's from your top desk drawer."
McGee coughed abruptly, littering the dashboard with crumbs. "You stole these from my desk?"
Tony shook a finger at McGee. "Well, technically, now that you're eating them, I stole them for you, not from you. Nothing tastes better than stolen cookies when you're hungry, does it, McGee?" he asked rhetorically.
McGee closed his eyes and shook his head, mumbling, "Thief."
"Yeah, don't suppose you have some stolen Gatorade in that pack of yours. I could sure go for something to drink. What is the world coming to? I haven't seen any convenience stores out here, no diners, no gas stations. Nothing since we turned off Highway 7."
McGee agreed. "I lost cell service about ten minutes ago." He frowned at his so-called smartphone, which now only functioned as a clock. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have been saving these Nutter Butters for myself for another time? Does it occur to you that you should stay out of other people's desks?"
"Ha!" Tony snorted. "Bet you're glad I didn't though, right? And if you had stolen for me the way I stole for you, then I'd have something to drink, wouldn't I? Rule 69: Always have what your partner needs."
"There's no rule 69! You made that up!"
Tony leaned forward and craned his neck both left then right. "Houses are pretty few and far between, too. Grandma and Grandpa Turner must have liked it that way. Can you imagine living in the same house for 62 years? I think my ass would start to mold."
"Thanks for the image," McGee said derisively. He downed the final cookies anyway.
"Just sayin…," Tony added, pointing ahead and to the right, back off the road. "That's got to be it up there. Man, it's dusty out here. Sixty two years? Come on."
Tim pointed to the darkening sky. "Bet you five bucks this is all mud by the time we drive out of here."
"No bet," Tony answered as he pulled into the long driveway. "I don't see a car, but let's go check it out."
"Mind if I take the lead, Tony?"
"You? Why? I'm the senior field agent."
"Yeah, I know, but I need to, you know, take the lead some times. You mind?"
Tony became serious, and he nodded his consent. "Okay, McGoo, I'll hang back. There's probably nobody here anyway, from the looks of things." He removed his suit jacket and carefully placed it on the back seat. He loosened his tie and gave McGee an encouraging nod. "Now you look like the lead and I look like the back up."
McGee headed toward the front door while Tony remained midway between the car and the steps to the broad front porch.
McGee noticed the smashed lockbox that had been placed over the doorknob. He turned back to Tony. "Psst!"
Tony stood up straighter and prepared to draw his gun, on higher alert. He watched McGee knock on the door and listening.
McGee knocked again and identified himself. "Hello? Anybody here? This is Special Agent McGee with NCIS." McGee peered through the lace curtains. "Tony, I see what looks like a lot of blood on the carpet in there." McGee drew his gun.
Tony's eyes scanned the property, the fields, the tree line, and the outbuildings. He caught a flicker in his peripheral vision, and he saw a woman walking silently toward a large barn.
"Over here, McGee! Excuse me? Danielle Turner?" he called out as he began to walk in her direction, gun drawn but lowered. She quickened her pace to a trot. "Ms. Turner, I'm with NCIS. We only want to talk to you!
"McGee—the barn!" he yelled over his shoulder as the woman took off in an all-out sprint, beating Tony to the barn by several seconds. The barn was pitch black inside, full of old hay and the smell of cattle long since gone. Tony had his gun at the ready as he waited at the door, out of sight, for McGee.
Tony put a finger to his lips, still breathing hard, while he pointed into the barn. He signaled their search pattern to McGee and then they entered the barn.
The structure proved to be quite large, with many stalls to check.
Nothing.
"Over here!" McGee whispered loudly in the old building.
Tony made his way to his partner's location with care.
McGee pointed to the rusted sign which read "Fallout Shelter," nailed to a large hatch in the floor.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Tony whispered back.
"That . . . the sister isn't acting like an innocent person?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "No shit, McSherlock. No, listen, I'm a fast runner, but that chick runs like Joey Galloway! I'm thinking we shouldn't underestimate her again. She's making full use of that Y chromosome, that's for sure. You got my six?"
McGee nodded confidently, taking a final glance around the barn as Tony slowly opened the hatch and winced as the old hinges creaked.
Tony peered down the open narrow stairway to the darkened basement below. He kept his gun trained down the stairs as he withdrew his small black Maglite from the belt pouch on his left hip. He held the light at shoulder height, shining it downward as he descended the stairs, stepping softly, first one foot, then gradually shifting his weight to the other, as he listened for movement from below. He cautiously and methodically swept the light from left to right, and both up and down, cringing inside at the combination of both mildew and other less familiar, cloying smells. Rats, too, for sure. Tony shoved the thought aside and kept vigilant, moving with a seasoned cop's expertise and precision, dodging the thick cobwebs that hung from the beams and side railings.
McGee followed close behind, his gun aimed up the stairs, even though both men were certain the woman had fled to the basement. They couldn't assume she was alone. Assumptions could prove fatal.
At the bottom of the stairs, Tony paused and carefully checked both to the right and to the left, ducking below the long pull chain for the single, bare bulb at the bottom of the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was flood his position with light and blind himself. As Tony moved around to the right, sweeping his light into the dark corners, McGee guarded their flank, his attention still focused on the open hatch at the top, as he inched his way down the stairs.
Tony returned to the bottom of the stairs, and signaled to McGee that he had cleared the area to the right of the stairs. Tony worked his way around to the left, behind mountains of web-shrouded boxes and the kinds of oddities that used to lurk in the shadows of his grandfather's attic. He skirted a rat trap with an overly ripe mouse corpse in it. "Charming," he whispered under his breath. He passed a large chest freezer, noting the size, and continued sweeping his light until he reached the back row of boxes. He quietly walked back to McGee's location and pulled the chain on the light. He pointed back toward the chest freezer and mimed to McGee that he was going to open it. The grime didn't appear to be as thick or old as on the other items in the basement, and given its size, it needed to be eliminated as a hiding place.
McGee nodded and aimed his gun at the dirty, chipped, white top of the freezer, keeping the stairs in his periphery.
Tony held his gun at the ready in his right hand and cautiously lifted the lid and peered in. His face contorted into a grimace and a small derisive "ugh" formed in his throat. "We got a body," he whispered, "Looks like our missing Marine—kind of—with a bad case of frostbite. This one didn't just climb in here, that's for sure."
McGee looked around anxiously. "What now?"
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*****NCIS*****
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Gibbs slammed his cell phone down on the Leesburg diner's table for the third time. "Come on, DiNozzo," he grumbled.
"Maybe they are in a dead zone?" Ziva inquired as she ate the last bite of her turkey sandwich. "Excuse me, Miss?" She flagged down their waitress. "How is the cell phone reception in Berryville?"
"Spotty," she answered. Not too bad if you're out in the open, but in a building or a car, you're taking your chances." She topped up Gibbs' coffee cup.
Gibbs threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Seems like they ought to be able to find a landline, wouldn't you think?"
"You are worried."
"I shouldn't be. They're together." He whipped his phone open again. "I need to update Vance."
"And then if Tony and McGee have still not called, we can just drive out there ourselves, yes?"
Gibbs took a deep breath and had another sip of his coffee, nodding. He punched in Vance's number and briefed him on the most recent developments, including their findings at the lawyer's office, the bank. Gibbs also relayed the information Tony had given during his last check-in, and the information he and Ziva had obtained from talking with Danielle's girlfriend and both the magazine editors she freelanced for: Neither Shawna Ballard nor the editors had seen or heard from Danielle since a few days after her birthday. They knew nothing about Danielle's disappearance. Shawna had said that Danielle had been shocked when David called and asked her to pick him up and go out to the Grandparents' old home to talk. Gibbs also told Vance that he'd been unable to make contact with DiNozzo or McGee for several hours and that he and Ziva were going to head out to Berryville as a precaution.
Gibbs swallowed the last of his coffee and tossed some money on the table. "Let's go."
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*****NCIS*****
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Tony's eyes darted around the room; he gestured for McGee to return to the bottom of the stairs.
"We look again, more carefully. Dead Man Frozen is never a good sign. As a kid, I always wanted a brother or sister. Now I'm not so sure."
McGee tightened his grip on his SIG and positioned himself where he could watch both up the stairs and to the area beyond, where Tony had first searched. "Be careful, Tony."
Tony flashed his dangerous smile. "You just stay alert, McGee; we know she came down here." He again worked his way to the far and much darker end of the basement, this time sweeping his Mag light very thoroughly from top to bottom, checking for any sign of where their missing woman had gone.
Hello . . . . What have we here? As Tony reached the far end of the basement, he noticed that the boxes weren't completely flush with the back wall. One large box stuck out a little farther, and Tony eased it out with his foot as he shined his light behind it. The light revealed a tunnel large enough to easily accommodate an adult. His light revealed some twists and turns that lead to darkness. Dammit—a rabbit hole. He took a deep breath, frustrated that their best lead in the case had escaped.
As Tony moved to rejoin McGee and form a new plan, he heard a blast far down the tunnel. Before he could react, a shower of dust and dirt hit him full in the face. His hands instinctively flew to his eyes, and his flashlight dropped winking out as it hit the concrete floor. He both coughed and spat dirt from his mouth.
"Tony?" McGee called out. "You okay?"
Tony backed out from behind the boxes, coughing and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Stay back, McGee!"
"Tony—what's—"
"Bomb!" Another loud boom, much closer, shook the whole barn. Chips of ceiling material and splintered wood rained down, and the pull chain to the overhead light danced wildly. A few precariously placed boxes fell from atop high stacks.
"Get out, McGee!" Tony blindly headed back toward McGee as another, closer, bomb exploded. Tony reached out to feel his way. Tears streamed from his tortured eyes and washed away enough debris that he could squint as he aimed for the stairs.
His stomach lurched as he staggered toward the freezer: he saw a tiny, red light blinking rapidly on the floor under the large appliance.
"Another one!" he yelled hoarsely. "Go—go—go!" He sprinted past the freezer toward McGee, who reached out to help his partner. Tony whirled McGee around and shoved him up the staircase ahead of him. "Run!"
Half way up the stairs, even as McGee's arm reached out to the hatch opening at the top, Armageddon descended.
The explosion came with the intensity and force of a freight train just as Tony yelled "Get down!" and launched himself at McGee in a flying tackle. The blast lifted both men from the stairs and propelled them off the side of the narrow staircase as a deafening roar took over the world.