"Mr. Templeton will be with you shortly," the receptionist stated with a smile.
Tony and Tim sat in the lobby's only two chairs while Ziva scanned what little she could see of the office's interior. It was of moderate size, made to appear much larger than its actual square footage due to the alarming lack of furniture and decorations. The reception area held only the half-moon desk of the receptionist and the two chairs currently occupied by her teammates. The company's name tacked to the wall above the blonde receptionist's head was simple, if a bit dull, and there was absolutely nothing in the lobby area that elicited a warm or hospitable welcome. A bit odd for a place of business, she thought.
A small movement from Tim caught her eye, and she fixed her gaze on his hands as he fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. His posture screamed nervousness, and Ziva immediately tempered her suspicious thoughts surrounding Templeton and his company. McGee had confided in her last night his worry about having another friend or family member connected to a crime, and she certainly didn't need to exacerbate his tension. Especially when Finneus had done nothing thus far to warrant such distrust, outside of making poor choices in interior design.
The office was rather quiet and void of any activity beyond whatever the receptionist was doing… which, presently, was absolutely nothing. She was sitting calmly behind her desk, lazily filing her nails. Ziva heard the approaching footsteps and turned to see Finneus Templeton strolling forward, a confident grin already plastered on his face.
"Agent David, it's nice to see you again," Finn strolled forward, offering his hand. Ziva shook it politely as Tony and Tim strolled up behind her. Finn nodded to them both. "Is there anything new with the case?"
"We just have a few more questions for you," Tony stated. "Is there someplace we can go talk?"
"Of course, of course. Follow me."
Finn turned and strolled back the way he came, which ended up being a very short corridor leading to a larger room filled with gray cubicles. Once again, Ziva was struck with how quiet it was. She was about to ask about other employees, but Tony beat her to it.
"You recently do some redecorating?" Tony asked in that I-am-trying-to-only-sound-curious-but-really-I-am- suspicious-of-you kind of tone. Finn looked confused, so Tony continued. "I can smell the fresh paint."
"Ah!" Finn nodded with understanding. "Yes, just painted. Haven't been here long."
It was Tim's turn to be wary. "According to your finances, RadSim has owned this space for eight months."
"Yes, well, we've owned the space since February, but only just moved in," Finn explained with a casual smile as he waved them into the conference room.
He has an answer for everything, Ziva thought, and then scowled at herself. Innocent until proven guilty. For Tim's sake.
"Please, sit." Finn directed them toward the office chairs situated around a large, glass table. The room was brightly lit, thanks to the floor to ceiling windows that offered a spectacular view of the city. The team sat down on one side while Finn sat on the other. It wasn't supposed to be an interrogation, but their respective positions made it appear that way. Glancing over to Tim, Ziva could see in his expression that he was experiencing the same sensation.
"Well, what can I do for you?"
The questioning began, and Finn easily answered each of them. Ziva studied him for any signs or tells that he was lying or covering up anything, but she found nothing in his body language or responses that hinted toward deceptiveness. Even Tony, who did most of the questioning, seemed to sense the easy-going attitude of Finn, and eased up a bit toward the end. Tim also visibly relaxed, which Ziva was happy to see. And while it was appearing less and less likely that Templeton was directly involved in Barker's death, there still was the glaring fact that the Petty Officer had been found on the man's yacht.
That was something that could simply not be ignored.
"Did Petty Officer Barker often visit your yacht?" Ziva asked, finally joining the conversation.
"Yes," Finn nodded solemnly. "I let him stay there often, actually. I only took the yacht out on the weekends, so he'd often crash there during the week. He'd been living out of hotels as of late, and I figured he'd appreciate something a bit closer to work, if you catch my meaning. My yacht was the first equipped with his new system, and he liked to tinker with it during his off hours."
"I'd like to see what Barker was working on," Tim asked once Ziva zoned back into the conversation around her. "RadNav, you called it?
"Uh, sure," Finn nodded slightly. "I can lead you to his workstation. It's a bit out of the way. He liked the privacy, you understand."
Tony and Tim stood to follow, and Tim turned when he noticed Ziva wasn't following suit.
"Coming?" he asked.
"I think I will interview the rest of the employees."
"Okay," Tim said with a smile, and hurried to catch up to Tony and Finn.
Ziva spent the next thirty minutes speaking to anyone she could find in the office… which turned out to only be two other individuals. One, the rather ditzy receptionist, didn't pick up the phone once or do any work on her computer the entire time Ziva was in her presence. She had very little insight into Petty Officer Barker, let alone RadSim in general. After speaking to her, Ziva wondered how on earth the girl had gotten hired in the first place. She hardly seemed capable of anything outside of doing her nails and primping herself.
Next was Benjamin Watson, a skittish engineer who reminded her a little of Tim. He seemed kind and shy, until he began opening up about his work. Though much of what he said was beyond her understanding, she could see the love of his work in the way that he spoke of his job at RadSim. Most importantly, he did not give her the impression that he was capable of the violent act she had seen on Templeton's yacht the previous day. He, too, had very little information to give on Barker, seemingly not having worked closely with him at all. He did let slip that Greg Avila, someone he did work closely alongside, had not shown up to work today. Ziva noted the name and thanked him for his time.
"Doing alright, Agent David?"
"Yes, Mr. Templeton, thank you."
"Please, call me Finn," he smiled, and she smiled politely back. "Agent DiNozzo and Tim are looking over some of the technical manuals of our products here," he continued. "I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you?"
"What can you tell me about Greg Avila?" she asked as they strolled side by side back to the conference room. "I was told that he did not make it into work today."
"That's true," Finn stated once they'd settled back into their seats around the glass table. "Didn't call, either. To be honest, it isn't the first time. Greg… he's not the most reliable of employees. But he's brilliant, so I tend to give him a little bit of leeway."
"What does Greg do here?"
"Worked with Ernie on software development. GPS tracking, radar, satellite uplinks and the like. The two of them… they were quite the pair," he said with a laugh. "Opposites, really, but they worked so well together."
Ziva nodded in understanding. "And you are not worried about Greg's absence?"
Finn waved her question off with his hand. "Hardly. As I said, it wouldn't be the first time. He probably went out late last night, had a few too many, and is sleeping it off."
"Everyone seemed to get along with Petty Officer Barker," Ziva told him, reviewing her notes. "What about Greg and Barker? Did they…"
She was cut off as Finn's cell phone rang, its sound unusually loud and echoing in the large conference room.
"Oh, excuse me for a moment, I really should take this call." Finn stood, but before leaving the room completely, he turned back and said, "Ziva, could you and I continue this conversation over dinner? Maybe this evening?"
Ziva smiled. "It would not be appropriate for me to meet you outside of a… professional… capacity. I hope you understand."
"I do," Finn replied with a sad smile. "Perhaps after the case has been resolved?"
"Perhaps," she conceded, and Finn turned to leave her sitting alone.
As he walked away, Ziva realized that Finn reminded her a little bit of Tony. They were both strong men, extremely confident and capable, and quite sure of themselves. She was comfortable with that… she knew how to play the part around that type of man. It was why she and Tony got along so well. Their personalities fit well together, like two pieces of the same puzzle.
She easily fell in line with the flirting, the glances that lasted just a bit too long, the smiles and laughter at the appropriate times.
But the longer she spent time with Finn, she couldn't help but relate him to her previous evening's discovery. Perhaps it was men like him that prevented her from envisioning herself settling down someday, because she simply could not see herself spending the rest of her life with a man such as Finn. Yes, he was good looking. Intelligent. Successful. But was he the type of man that she could love?
She didn't think so.
She had come to that same realization about Tony not long ago. Destined to be friends, nothing more. And she was okay with that. More than okay, actually. She loved Tony, much as she loved many of the colleagues she held dear. She shared a special relationship with him, one that she wouldn't trade for anything.
And that was the problem.
She was afraid of taking that next step. Too often it had ended badly for her. In fact, it always ended badly. Why chance it again? Only when she knew any romantic relationship she was involved in was destined to fail?
So Ziva would continue to say no to Tony. Say no to Finn. No to any man that fit the same mold in her mind as they did, because saying yes would only lead to disappointment.
A soft clearing of a throat behind her snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see McGee standing near the door.
"Tony and I are all set. You ready to go?" he asked, and she held his gaze for a moment before nodding.
"Yes," she confirmed with a smile that he easily returned.
~~~NCIS~~~
"On my way, Duck." Gibbs slipped the phone back into its receiver, stood and moved towards the elevators, barking orders as he went. "Tony, RadSim's financials. Ziva, family history. McGee, financials on all of RadSim's employees."
A chorus of "Yes, Boss" rang out as he stepped away. There were several minutes of silence as the agents went to work on their respective tasks, but Ziva had to have known it wouldn't last for long.
"Finn seemed nice," Tony said a little too casually, and Ziva said nothing. "I think he likes you. Did he ask you out?"
"Yes," she replied curtly. Tim's typing hitched, but resumed just as quickly when Ziva continued. "But I obviously said no, Tony."
"Oh?" Tony's expression changed. "I'm surprised."
"And why is that?" she asked, rising to the bait.
"He seemed like your type."
"My type," she deadpanned.
"Yeah. And I figured with your friends here, all married and pregnant and happy, that you'd be itching to jump on the bandwagon."
"Tony…"
Unaware that he'd hit a nerve, he continued, full steam. "You could triple-date with those twins!" he said in awe. "Would you have to vacation away from Finn if you got engaged, considering he's not from Israel? I mean, I'm sure he'd be all in favor of enhancing the wedding night…"
"Tony!"
He stopped suddenly, and looked at her in alarm. Aware that she'd managed to draw the attention of the entire floor, Ziva took a few calming breaths before grabbing her coat.
"I'm going to get some tea."
She didn't miss the frown that crossed his face, nor how he noticed the cup on her desk, still half-full with the tea she'd brought in earlier. But she didn't care as she stormed away from her desk toward the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Down the stairs and into the open air, she immediately felt better as the chill of autumn sent shivers down her spine. Pulling her coat around her, she strolled briskly toward the park in the distance… a bench in its center currently unoccupied.
With a slight huff, she sat and stared at nothing in particular. She knew she was overreacting, and would have to apologize to Tony later, but for now, she needed to clear her mind and focus her thoughts. And that was something she simply could not do inside.
It seemed as though autumn had finally decided to arrive. The last lingering days of summer had faded as the ground was littered with orange, brown and yellow leaves and bare branches now stretched out towards winter. The sun was out, but provided little warmth at this point in the year.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ziva squinted up against the sunshine to see McGee standing behind the bench. He smiled warmly at her before walking around and sitting, their shoulders brushing slightly as they sat side by side.
Ziva sighed, but remained silent. The thing of it was… she did want to talk about it. She had slept terribly the night before, reviewing her life's decisions over and over until sheer exhaustion finally pulled her under. She had always thought herself happy with where she was, but that was before last night's outing with her friends had caused her to second-guess herself.
And she hated second-guessing herself.
She looked to McGee, who was patiently waiting. He always knew not to push her when she needed time to sort through her thoughts.
"I should not have let Tony get under my skin like that," she admitted.
"Well, I can't say anything against that. You know how often I let him get to me," he said with a shrug. "It's just Tony being Tony. You know he didn't mean anything by it, right?"
"Of course."
"Good."
They lapsed into silence for a while, Tim letting her set the pace of the conversation.
"A husband. Children." Ziva paused and shook her head. "I had long ago accepted the fact that I would never have that life. And that I did not want that life. I had even convinced myself that perhaps I did not even deserve that life," she added softly.
"Ziva," McGee protested, but she didn't let him continue.
"I am happy with my life!" she said loudly. "Can I not be happy without getting married or having children? I just can't, McGee. I cannot afford to fall in love!"
And yet…
And yet deep down she knew that wasn't true. It wasn't that she didn't want it… it was the sad realization that she simply would never have it. Too many factors in her life were working against it. Her job. Her background. Her relationship history. Her own commitment issues.
Wanting that life just simply not enough.
"I do not understand why this is affecting me so badly," she confessed softly. "I thought I knew what I wanted. And now… I'm not so sure. And I hate it. I hate the way it makes me feel."
McGee didn't flinch. He didn't shift uncomfortably. He hardly moved against Ziva's outburst, and for a moment, Ziva's heart dropped when she thought he would have no reaction whatsoever. Then, finally, he shifted slightly so he was facing her more directly.
"I don't know what to say to make this better," he admitted.
Ziva could see a small look of anguish in his eyes at that statement, and that view into such raw emotion alone warmed her. "I do not know that there are any words that can, McGee."
He nodded. Then, biting the inside of his cheek, he searched her face for a moment before asking, "Can I give you a hug?"
Ziva couldn't help it… she laughed, releasing all of the remaining tension she'd been clinging to for the past twelve hours. Still giggling slightly, she scooted over and let herself lean into McGee's side. He comfortably put an arm around her and they sat in silence for a while.
"You can, you know," Tim said finally. "Fall in love, I mean."
Ziva didn't know what to say to that. She simply didn't believe it anymore. She recalled the looks on her friend's faces… Lital and Mali… they were so happy and in love. It was a look she had recognized in herself, once upon a time. But time had a way of molding people into shapes they no longer recognized, and Ziva was not immune to that change.
"You just have to let yourself," Tim continued quietly. "You have to put yourself out there. Sure, people will let you down. Let's not even talk about the number of failed relationships I've had." Ziva chuckled quietly, and could feel the vibrations of Tim's chest as he joined her. "Sometimes things don't work out the way you want them to, but you can't let that stop you. If you get hurt, you just have to get right back up and try again."
Ziva shook her head, and Tim tightened his hold on her slightly in response.
"They don't call it falling for nothing, you know," he finished.
She smiled. "You are quite the philosopher, McGee."
Anything he might have said in reply was cut off by the ringing of his phone. Ziva removed herself from his arms, and he shuffled around in his jacket.
"McGee," he answered.
Ziva sat in silence as McGee spoke on the phone. She smiled a bit when his body language changed subtly… it must have been Gibbs on the other end of the call. It was a short conversation… as ones with Gibbs generally were, as a rule… and he turned to her after it had ended.
"Gibbs wants me to go back to RadSim. I guess Greg Avila finally showed up to work. Did you want to come along? Get away from Tony for a while?" he asked with a knowing smile. She smiled back.
"No, that is alright. I should continue my search into Barker's family history."
"You still convinced that his death is related to his work?" Tim asked.
"I am unsure," Ziva acknowledged. "I do feel a bit uneasy about all of this. Don't you?"
McGee shrugged. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"I am sorry, McGee. If Finneus is involved…"
"It's okay, Ziva," he cut her off with a genuine smile. "It really is."
McGee stood, and she stood along with him. They walked in companionable silence back toward the Navy yard, Ziva with much on her mind, and McGee texting on his phone. Once back, she and Tim parted ways and she walked into the elevator alone, lost in her own thoughts.
She thought of McGee, and his complete faith and certainty that she could find the kind of happiness she was seeking. She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her, the softness of his breath when he spoke reassurances to her… reassurances she hadn't realized she was in such need of until they were spoken.
A sharp thought occurred to her suddenly: she wanted to be in love. Her chest tightened against the strong desire to no longer feel so damned alone in this world, and she nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. One heart-felt conversation with McGee, and she suddenly craved the life that she was certain she'd never have? Delicate desires that she'd kept formless within her had been turned solid in McGee's presence, and now that they'd been given weight, she was feeling crushed by what it all meant.
How, exactly, had McGee been able to do that to her?
~~~NCIS~~~
"Thanks for coming, Dorneget."
"No problem. I was actually happy to get your text. I've been cataloging sick day usage for Legal, and well, it's…"
"A bit boring?" Tim finished for him with a knowing smirk, and Ned nodded back.
"Yes. Not that I'm complaining, really," he added quickly.
"Don't worry about it," Tim reassured him as he parked the sedan and the two headed toward RadSim's building. "It'll be nice to have someone with me who isn't looking at me every few minutes with pity."
"Pity?"
Tim shrugged it off. "Tony and Ziva. Even Gibbs is being nice, which is… weird. But Finneus Templeton is an old schoolmate of mine, and he owns the company. Plus, Barker was found dead on his boat. So, naturally, he's a person of interest. And I guess they are all worried I'm going to crack or something over having another person I know involved in a murder case."
"There have been more than one?" Ned asked, surprised.
"Unfortunately."
"You think Mr. Templeton is involved this time, too?"
"Probably," Tim disclosed quietly. "Anyway, we're here to talk to Gregory Avila. He was not in this morning when we interviewed the rest of the staff. Apparently he worked closely with our victim."
They reached the glass double doors, but they were locked. Frowning in confusion, Tim pointed to the right where the building curved around along a side street. Following along the structure, they turned again to the rear of the building to find three large garage doors, closed, and also undoubtedly locked. Luckily a side entrance was not, and the two agents entered quietly.
Dorneget let out a low whistle. It was a large interior, each garage door leading to a huge storage bay with three impressive yachts.
"Nice," Ned stated simply.
"NCIS," Tim announced to no one in particular, and no one responded. "Mr. Avila?"
His voice echoed around the big room, but still there was no response. Tim nodded to Ned, who pulled out his weapon as Tim did the same. There was no reason to believe that Avila was dangerous, but there was something about this situation that was nagging at Tim. Ned pointed silently to a door to the left, and they walked briskly over, opening the door to reveal a set of stairs. Again in silence, they ascended three floors, finally reaching RadSim's office space.
It was empty.
"Mr. Avila?" Dorneget moved out of the stairwell's entrance and into the lobby area, Tim close behind.
"This isn't right," McGee said quietly, turning in a small circle in the center of the room.
The business was entirely deserted. Not just of people (not that there had been many employees here to begin with), but of furniture, electronics… anything that indicated that a company operated here. The lobby chairs he had sat in that very morning were gone. The receptionist's desk was still standing, but there was no desk chair, no computer, even the company's name had been removed from the wall. He steered Dorneget down the corridor which led to the conference room, again to find it empty.
"Something is wrong," McGee stated. "This morning… there was a business here this morning! Furniture… cubicles… people!"
"Tim?" Ned nudged him, and Tim turned to see him pointing at a body in the corner of the abandoned office space. Running forward, he holstered his weapon and knelt down to check for a pulse. There wasn't one, but the body still felt warm. Not dead for long, then. He recognized the man as one of RadSim's employees Ziva had spoken to this morning. He resisted the temptation to check for an ID, knowing Ducky would kill him if he disturbed the body.
"Mr. Avila, you think?" Ned asked from behind Tim, and he nodded in response.
"No, I think his name was Ben Watson. Looks like he was shot," Tim began, pointing to the messy point of entry in the man's abdomen. Tim stood up, taking out his phone in the process and glancing up at Ned. "I'll call Gibbs…"
The only warning Tim got was the flicker of Ned's eyes as he glanced past Tim's shoulder. He started to raise his gun, but wasn't quick enough before a single shot rang out and Ned was on the floor, clutching his arm. Tim dropped his phone, reaching for his own weapon, but another shot rang out and suddenly Tim couldn't do anything except focus on the white-hot pain that radiated through his body.
He crashed to his knees, hands groping his side, already sticky wet from the hot blood soaking his shirt.
"I'm sorry," he thought he heard as he fell the rest of the way down to the floor, unfortunately landing face first. The rush of sound flooding his ears made it impossible to form any kind of coherent thought, let alone hear the words being spoken to him. Tim blinked hard, trying to separate real life past the dark spots dancing in his vision.
Rough hands flipped him over, but he had no energy to do anything beyond groan in pain. He vaguely thought he heard the sound of his phone being stomped on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tim knew he should be worried about something… someone?... but the pain in his side was too great. It felt like ages (minutes? hours?) had passed before there was the sound of a gun discharging again and again, only going silent seconds before he was ultimately swallowed by darkness.
~~~NCIS~~~
"Boss, I've found something interesting," Tony reported as Gibbs strolled into the bullpen, fresh coffee clutched in his hand. "Coast Guard has reported seven attacks against private yachts over the past six months."
"What kind of attacks?" Ziva asked from behind her desk.
"Aye, they be pirate attacks, ma'dear," Tony began, but quickly stopped at Gibbs' glare. "Sorry, Boss. Reports say unmarked boats approached the yachts, fired off some rounds as a warning, and then boarded… taking valuables and the like."
"And this is important how?" Gibbs asked, impatiently raising a single eyebrow.
"All of the yachts had RadSim technology on board. Specifically, their new RadNav system."
"The one that Petty Officer Barker was in charge of," Ziva concluded.
"The one and only," Tony said with a smile.
"Show me the dates."
"Boss?"
"The dates of the attacks," Gibbs clarified, sitting down in his chair and waving vaguely to the view screen.
"On it." Tony scrambled to his computer, and after a few moments, photos of the yachts and corresponding dates were up on the screen. "First one was a little under six months ago. April 28th. Yacht belonging to a Mr. Douglas Tartar. He reported masked men storming the yacht, and stealing a luxury liquor bottle that had an 18.5 carat diamond inside."
Tony clicked the remote and a new set of photos were brought up.
"Next was May 13th. A yacht owned by Mr. and Mrs. Graffino. Same situation with the masked men on an un-marked boat boarding them. They lost a lot of jewelry, including a diamond Gucci belt."
Another set.
"Third was…"
"May 22nd," Gibbs finished for him. "And next was June 8th. Then July 1st."
"Yeah, Boss," Tony nodded. "How did you…?"
"Gregory Avila's financials," Gibbs interrupted. "I had McGee pull them before he left. On each of those days, he had an influx of funds in his off-shore account."
"How much?" Ziva questioned.
"$100,000 each time."
Tony whistled. "So, Avila tells the pirates where these yachts are. They raid, plunder and steal, and Avila gets a cut of the profit."
"But how does he know where the yachts are?" Ziva asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Gibbs asked as he stood, opening his desk drawer and holstering his gun before grabbing his jacket. Tony and Ziva quickly mimicked his actions after sharing a look of confusion. Gibbs smiled as he led them to the elevator.
"Call McGee," he said, punching the down arrow a bit harsher than necessary. "Tell him we're on our way, and not to let Avila out of his sight."