Chapter Fourteen: Shooter
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Tony was in the hospital waiting room when Gibbs and Jenny rushed in. Dang. Jenny. Why did she have to come?? He knew the answer. Commander Alvarez was still big news; and as NCIS Director, Jenny had to be at the forefront…but still. Tony almost wished he hadn't had to call Gibbs, but of course, he did. This wouldn't go over well at all when Schultz—guarding their captive woman in Tony's car—came into the picture.
He quickly briefed them on Alvarez, who was still in surgery.
"But how did this happen?" asked Jenny, numbly, and the fear—probably of the SECNAV's reaction—clearly showed on her face. "Do you know who shot him?"
"You're amazingly on the spot for someone who went home sick, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, giving him a sour look. "So we have Alvarez. Do you know where McGee is?" he added with a glance at Jenny, but she didn't react.
Tony took a deep breath. "I don't know how it came to happen. I don't know where McGee is—I didn't have a chance to talk to Alvarez before he was shot. I only came upon him when this happened. And yes, I know who shot him. We have her in custody. She's outside, in my car."
"You have the shooter?" Jenny gasped. "Why didn't you say so??"
"And what do you mean by 'we'?" Gibbs asked in a low, menacing tone.
"I'll show you." Tony bit back the sigh.
He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He really didn't want Schultz to get into more trouble, but he also knew that he couldn't withhold evidence, which was what concealment would be. With a jolt, he realized Schultz would have been aware of this all along. Yet she played her role, without telling him; she would make sure that their prisoner didn't get away, despite inevitably becoming discovered herself—all because she was a responsible person; still doing the special agent job that she no longer had.
Schultz glanced their way as they came up to the car, and she then got out of the car. "Klara," said Jenny, in a tone that dripped with ice.
"She's all yours, Jenny," said Schultz, sounding aloof, unconcerned. "My part is done, and so, I am out of here." She turned and headed for the cab stand.
"Schultz!" Jenny snapped. "You need to come in and make your statement."
"I don't work for you anymore, Jenny. Tony was there and saw everything I did."
"I can make you come in."
"I'll compromise with you. I'll come in tomorrow morning. I'm busy right now. Sorry about your sick day, Tony," she added with a glance at him.
He shrugged it off. Tony felt hurt on her behalf, knowing how much she really did care. Still, it took a lot of stubbornness for Schultz to resist coming into NCIS to make a statement. Unless she's up to something…
…she's going to go back and look for McGee! Dang her. Unless the woman had been working alone, her accomplices were also likely armed. Schultz was walking into a dangerous situation, and totally against NCIS policy, she was going into it alone.
Schultz, he felt, had too much respect for living to be doing a suicide mission, and such a mission had too little chance of paying off for McGee. No, she must think she knew what she was doing. Not that that made it any less risky.
Gibbs was talking to him. He'd be riding back in Tony's car with Tony and the prisoner; Jenny, who brought Gibbs along with her to the hospital, would wait at the hospital for word on Alvarez for awhile, and then drive back by herself. Tony was glad for that. If Jenny had a lot of invective to spill about Schultz, he didn't want to hear it.
The ride south to the Navy Yard was mostly silent. The woman prisoner sat silently, as did Gibbs. It was only at the parking lot, where waiting security people took the woman away, that Gibbs spoke. "She going to continue looking for McGee?"
Tony half smiled. "You know her better than I do, boss. You tell me."
Gibbs looked away. "Dang fool woman. We have to deal with the prisoner. I can't send either you or me to go help her, for awhile."
"Ziva lives in Silver Spring."
"But it's you she's built the rapport with; not Ziva. Knowing Schultz, she's going to be proud and a little skittish about working with anyone from NCIS. Tell you what: You write out your statement and watch the interrogation, and then get out of here. Leave and take care of your…whatever you said you had for breakfast that made you sick."
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Gibbs let the prisoner cool her heels in holding while NCIS tried to determine who she was. The woman hadn't been carrying a purse, but had had car keys in her jacket pocket when she was apprehended. She must have driven Alvarez to the park where she had shot him, so her car must be near there. Balere and Joe, from Schultz' team, were dispatched to Silver Spring to find and retrieve the car—without being told of Schultz' involvement. (In fact both of them gave Tony an eyeballing as they left the squad room, as if they'd determined that something didn't add up.)
Ziva, however, found a fingerprint match on AFIS. "Marthe Lindholm," she announced as Gibbs, Tony, and Mickey (Schultz' third team member) looked on as she then called up the Immigration record. "Swedish citizen, born in Göteborg. Age 54. Her visa type is—uh oh." The program had suddenly closed: Access denied.
"We got someone sensitive," Mickey remarked. "Wonder who will drop by to spring her, or take her away in leg irons?"
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Gibbs left Mickey, who was clever with computers (though not in Tim's league), to try to get more information on Lindholm without hacking, just yet. Mickey requested and was granted Abby's help in the search.
Jenny returned then, looking tired and downcast. "He's still in surgery," she said. "It could be hours yet. They'll call us. The SECNAV has gone done there, and brought some people to wait with him.
And you feel superfluous, Gibbs thought, but didn't say it. He still wasn't feeling forgiving toward Jenny yet. "I was about to start interrogating our prisoner," he said. "Want to watch?"
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"You can make a statement now, Ms. Lindholm, or you can go back and sit in the holding tank. Your choice," said Gibbs calmly, reading her features and her movements. Oh, she's good. Looks as wholesome as Betty Crocker, but she's got nerves of steel, whoever she is, he thought,
On the other side of the interrogation room mirror, Jenny asked, "Who is she?"
Both Ziva and Tony, standing with her, winced, knowing that perhaps they should be doing more to solve this instead of watching the interrogation. Nonetheless, they were drawn to the spectacle of the woman who'd shot the commander…and the woman who could, as few could, resist Gibbs' stern technique. "Marthe Lindstrom," said Tony.
"Lindholm," Ziva corrected.
"Lindholm. That's all we know…so far."
"And why aren't you finding out more about her?" Jenny asked crisply.
"Mickey and Abby are trying to get around firewalls," Tony said. "Someone's gone out of her way to protect her identity."
"Someone…here? In our government?"
"Don't know yet, Director. I'm, uh, just sticking around until Gibbs is done to make my statement, and then I'll head back home." Tony put a hand on his stomach and tried to look a little green.
"You do that," Jenny said, after a sharp look, then walked out when her cell phone rang.
Gibbs continued with Lindholm. "You're Swedish, right?" She didn't answer.
"Would you like me to call the Swedish embassy and notify them that you're being held?"
There. Just a flicker of concern, and as fast as it had come, it was gone.
"She is not on good terms with her government," remarked Ziva. "Perhaps she is wanted."
"I am sure you have the wrong person, for whatever you think I've done," said Lindholm, calmly.
"We have witnesses who saw you shoot a US Navy commander," Gibbs said calmly, but with a sharp edge in his voice.
"It must have been someone else," the woman said. "Now, please, let me go. I have to get back to my work."
"What work is that?"
"I am a research scientist. My visa is limited to six months, so any delay here takes away from my work time."
Gibbs considered, looking to the side for a minute or two. Then he leaned in more closely, his eyes dark. "We have Alvarez back. Now where are you keeping Tim McGee?"
"Who?"
Despite his sternest look, the woman was not about to break down.
"She has been well-trained," said Ziva. "Definitely either a professional assassin, or else a spy.
Tony looked at his watch. Almost 3 o'clock. He was suddenly even more worried for Schultz. If Lindholm was a trained assassin, then she was likely associated with a group of similar people. Schultz would be walking into a minefield. "Tell Gibbs I'm not feeling well and went home. Tell him I'll make my statement tomorrow."
"Tony! You cannot just—" But as she was speaking to his fleeing back, it did no good.
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Tim, in the "in-law" apartment, grew more and more nervous as time passed. Marthe Lindholm should have been back within an hour, if she were doing a convincing grocery-shopping run in town (whichever town it was they were in). It had been almost three hours now. Something must have happened.
I hope Enrique got away okay…maybe Baking Nell decided to flee with him. He smiled faintly, thinking on how the two were about the same age. Stranger attractions had happened.
Soon afterwards, though, Nels himself entered the apartment. "One of my assistants, Nell—tall, with dark hair? About 50?—went to the grocery store and has not come back. Do you know anything about it, Agent McGee?"
"Why would I know? I don't know who does your shopping."
Nels looked around. "Where is the commander?"
"In the can, I think. He was having a little …indigestion," Tim said, making a face and pretending to waft an odor away.
Nels looked thoughtful. "Well, if you see Nell, send her up to me."
"I'll be sure to do that. Are we having another lab session today?"
Nels appeared almost sympathetic, but it was broken by a smile. "No, Agent McGee, I think we have had the last session. If my studies are correct, by tomorrow you should be so in the grips of psychosis that you will no longer retain any learning."
He went out, and the door's tumblers clicked with the familiar sounds. Tim sank onto the couch. If tomorrow's the day it all falls apart, I have nothing left to lose. Tomorrow's the day when I'll take on Nels.