"Have you been able to trace Lenier's movements?" Gibbs called out to his team the next day.

McGee shook his head. "We're not even sure how or when he got in the country. I'm running a facial recognition system through airport security but haven't hit on anything yet."

"None of his aliases are active either," Ziva added, pressing a few keys on her keyboard in frustration.

"Even if we find Lenier, he's not going to tell us who hired him. Whoever it is…is going to get away with this," Tony said

Smack!

"Right. Optimism only, Boss," Tony said, rubbing his head.

"Give me the timeline," Gibbs ordered.

"Petty Officer Stevens disappeared six days ago, his body found three days ago at 0830," McGee began.

"We assume that he was being 'interrogated,'" DiNozzo put air quotes around that word, "by notorious French expatriate Pierre Lenier for the time he was missing."

Ziva continued the summary, "None of his co-workers have any idea why anyone could want to kill the Petty Officer. He followed the rules, had no enemies, no disciplinary marks on his record."

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee, thinking. "We need to talk to his boss, see where he was working,"

"On it, Boss," Tony motioned to Ziva and they left.

When they returned a few hours later, it was with a renewed sense of determination. "Apparently, he was on patrol for a few nights before he went missing," Tony said. "We checked out the area he was patrolling. It was a secluded area, not very busy. You know the kind, Boss. A dark corner where there is rarely any activity, a good place to hide some shady deals."

"One of Stevens' friends mentioned that Stevens had taken a camera with him on the last patrol before he went missing. He didn't show up for his patrol the next night," Ziva said.

"Did the camera ever show up?" Gibbs questioned. They shook their heads no.

"So," McGee questioned, "Has the camera gone missing? Or was it turned in to his superiors? And if his superiors got the camera, why have we not heard about it before this?"

"McGee! I am so grateful."

"Please, Morgan. Let Tony and Gibbs be the only ones to hear you play? Besides, I have a character I'm tweaking for a new novel. Watching you will help my muse."

"Well, I wouldn't ask to go again, but I have a concert next week."

McGee's face grew slightly blank. If they couldn't find the murderer, chances were she would be in a protection program. Having her out in public for a concert, with a target still on her back? Not quite a smart idea. "Of course, you all will be invited. It's for charity. It's a cause that is quite near and dear to each of us in the program." Tim felt his stomach drop-he had a feeling it would be impossible to convince her that she needed to pull out.

They were entering the sanctuary by now and McGee pulled out a notebook. Morgan moved to the piano, already planning what music she needed to work on. She played some exercises and moved on. She felt, more than saw, McGee move around the room to make sure it was still secure.

He was across the room when she heard footsteps running towards her. McGee turned and yelled a warning. He ran towards her, but froze when he saw the gun pointed at her neck. Morgan's wide eyes latched onto McGee's, fear making her fingers tremble.

"Don't come any closer," Came the harsh voice behind Morgan. Morgan was very surprised at the change in McGee. She never thought she would see him so intimidating, but anger was radiating from every line of his body, his blue eyes piercing across the room. "Drop your gun, kick it under the pews," the man ordered.

Tim hesitated before complying, jaw working when he saw the gun shoved deeper into her neck. And then Morgan knew. She knew McGee wouldn't be able to save her, she knew she was not able to get away from the man with the gun, and she knew on one else was going to get there in time.

For no reason that made any sense whatsoever, Morgan's fingers stopped shaking. Almost without her realizing it, she snorted. "Really?" She smirked, "This happens in, like, every action movie ever made. You couldn't come up with something more original?" McGee looked surprised at her outburst.

"You want original?" The man questioned, "You can have original. Pierre Lenier is one of a kind."

"Well, thank you for the compliment, mon ami!" McGee stiffened as he heard the voice behind him. This is so…not good, on so many levels, Morgan thought. McGee felt the gun rest against the back of his head and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"What do you want?" Morgan's voice came out sharply.

"I will enjoy getting to know you, ma cherie. You have spirit."

Morgan could swear she saw the man's fingers tighten around the gun. Fear for McGee flooded her mind. "You want me? Fine, but leave the good agent alone, will you?"

The Frenchman, who wasn't wearing a mask, tilted his head thoughtfully. "Fine," he answered; then he slugged the gun against McGee, who dropped to the floor, unconscious. Morgan watched him fall, worried, yet relieved he was alive. She felt her arms get tied behind her as she watched Lenier come up to her. The way he looked at her was really starting to scare her, but the worst thing she felt was the fear that was beginning to build after her outburst. She was alone with two monsters, and she didn't know how to escape.