AN: Slight spoiler for S7's Endgame. Again, of the "blink-and-you'll-miss-it" variety
Chapter 4
Gibbs stood at the window overlooking the Potomac as the first strains of light peeked above the horizon. He tapped his empty cup against his hand, then headed for the elevator, intent on getting a fresh supply.
He lifted a single eyebrow when the doors opened to reveal Tony inside, his jeans and sweater on the more casual end of his work clothes.
"Hey, Boss." He handed Gibbs a cup, steam curling from the small opening in the lid. "I had them put in an extra shot."
Gibbs sipped the brew, the caffeine kickstarting his tired brain. He pivoted and headed for his desk.
Tony followed behind, then started to sit. "So, listen, Boss. I was thinking about the case and-"
"Which one?" Gibbs smacked the cup on his desk as he dropped into his chair. "The one we still haven't solved? Or the one Ducky says isn't a case?"
Tony's hands were on his desk, but he reversed direction and stood.
"Lt. Andrews. We can't find any evidence that it was a murder, but we also haven't been able to find anything to indicate suicide."
Gibbs stared.
"So I was thinking, Ducky says the pills were in his drink, and Abby can't find evidence it was tampered with before he got it. But what if it was some nutjob who slipped the drugs in at the bottling plant. Like the Tylenol killer."
Gibbs gave a half-nod.
Tony sent a photo to the plasma. "When I was shooting the entrance to Andrews' quarters, I got a picture of the hall recycling bin in the bottom of the photo, and there's got to be a dozen of those same green tea blackberry juice bottles in the glass bin. We didn't test those because they weren't at the scene, but what if this was some crazy who slipped drugs in the drink before it was bottled? If he drank this crap like Abby drinks Caf-Pow, it could have reached the lethal dose that way."
"Hearing a lot of 'coulds' and not much evidence."
"On it, Boss." Tony left the photo on the plasma and sat down, tapping away on his keyboard.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
As Ziva and McGeek walked in, both early, Tony briefed them on his theory and they started helping. McGee had some sort of search running to look for any reports in the country that linked the drink with illness or tampering, while Ziva and Gibbs had headed for Little Creek to see if they could learn more about where and when Andrews bought the bottles.
Tony had already made three trips down to see Abby and Ducky looking for evidence and both had thrown him out. When he got back to the bullpen, McGee stood up.
"Come on, Tony. Abs says you need coffee and I have to take you myself. Something about turning into Gibbs and one Captain Ahab being enough." The McEyebrow asked the unstated question.
"Yeah, yeah. And let me guess, she wants a Caf-Pow."
"Does Abby ever not want a Caf-Pow?" McGee headed for the elevator. "What's gotten into you?" The elevator was full, so Tony didn't reply. Maybe McGee would drop it.
But no, as soon as they were outside, headed for the coffee shop, McStubborn started back up.
"I mean, you're Gibbs-obsessed, without the growling, and this is a pretty out-there theory. Ducky's sure it's a suicide." McGee looked over. "Are you saying Ducky's wrong?"
"Ducky's not finding any reason to call it murder. That's not the same thing as being sure it's a suicide. I know you're you young to remember the Tylenol killer," Tony looked sideways. "I don't like people getting away with murder, nutjobs or not."
They joined the line of people getting lunch at the coffee shop and kept talking.
"While you were driving Abby insane, I called a couple of people I know at MIT," McGee said as they shuffled forward in line. "They both agreed that Andrews was a genius, even by MIT standards, but he was also really well-adjusted. He handled the pressure of the standards there well, was one of the leaders in the NRTOC battalion."
"So not somebody likely to commit suicide." Tony sighed.
"Unless there was something in his life, but we haven't found anything." McGee paused. "But we're not finding any evidence for your Juice Killer theory either."
Tony ordered first, and waved off McGee's attempt to pay. "I'm the one being the second-b-is-for-bastard today, I'll buy."
McGee snickered. "Are you saying Gibbs should be buying us coffee most of the time?"
Tony sputtered, and even the coffee shop staff laughed at the idea.
McGee tugged his arm and moved them over to the pick-up counter. "Come on, let's get our coffee and get back. Before Gibbs and Ziva get back and we have to explain why we didn't bring him coffee."
Tony mock-shuddered and the barista snickered as he handed over their drinks. "Glad my shift's almost over."
"Yeah, yeah, Chris. Like you wouldn't want to watch me slink back in here to get the Boss' coffee." Tony rolled his eyes as he added sugar and cream to his cup. "Let's go, McGee."
They were almost back at the NCIS building when Tony slowed, something pinging in his gut. He glanced to one side, then the other.
"It's not just me." McGee kept walking, forcing Tony to follow him.
"You?"
"Last night, I felt like somebody was watching me." McGee kept his voice low as they walked inside. "In the parking lot, and at the coffee shop."
"Agent Grady-" Tony wiggled his eyebrows.
"She wasn't there. I checked."
"That's... weird." Tony rolled his shoulders. "Look, we've got to get back to work before the wrath of Gibbs returns, but first chance I get, I want a sitrep on this. Last time you had a stalker, she pulled a gun on you, and the one before that pulled a gun on Abby."
"Yeah, Tony. Don't remind me."
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
Gibbs stared at the the two casefiles that next afternoon, the open one that was cold as an icicle and the one Ducky had closed with a suicide verdict just minutes earlier after none of them had been able to find evidence to support DiNozzo's Juice Killer idea. He didn't like losing. Conscious of eyes on him, he looked up to see Vance standing on the catwalk. The director jerked his head and Gibbs headed upstairs, meeting the director in his office.
Vance had his back to the door, looking at the photographs on his wall.
"At the War College, one of the other boxers was a Marine. Tough bastard, semper fi to the bone." The director didn't turn around. "He trained some of the best boxers I met in those days, almost as good as the ones I knew back in Chicago."
Gibbs just waited.
"Boxing's like any sport, Gibbs. Heritage and legacy mean something for coaches. The current Little Creek coach, he trained under Quincy. Was a mean welterweight in his boxing days. Once of Quincy's last champions before he retired from the Corps. We met a few times over the years, and he called me today." Vance turned to face Gibbs.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
"One of his boxers, a middleweight, died this morning on base. He was running the obstacle course with some of the other men in his unit when he was killed by what appears to be an IED." Vance crossed his arms. "They thought it was a training exercise gone bad."
"It's not."
"No. The base commander doesn't want the media to get wind of this, and he doesn't want an official investigation to attract attention on base. As far as he's concerned, the base MPs are the ones investigating."
Gibbs just looked at Vance. "So he sent word through back channels to get NCIS to investigate quietly."
Vance nodded. "I don't have to tell you what would happen if word got out that there was an act of terrorism at Little Creek."
Gibbs didn't reply, just left the office. He could see the team bantering back and forth about something as he came down the stairs. "Grab your gear."
"Boss?" DiNozzo slug his pack over his shoulder.
"I'll explain in the car." He reached for the last cup on the tray, but Ziva pulled it away.
"You do not want it, Gibbs," she said.
He glared at her.
"The coffee shop, it has a new college student working there. She is, what's the word, crunchy?"
"Flakey, Ziva." DiNozzo headed for the elevator. "And if she doesn't get her act together soon, Darren will fire her ass for incompetence."
Gibbs pulled his SIG and badge from his desk and headed for the elevator. He noticed none of the agents brought their drinks with them.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
Agent Anthony DiNozzo. I've had my eye on him longer than the other agents. That time has been well spent. Agent DiNozzo is more difficult to read, and not just for me. Watching him romance that doctor was an education. He managed to fool even his team during that period. But he couldn't hide from me. I saw what he did, learned from him. He was responsible for my second kill. The first, six months earlier, had healed the wounds from the altered timetable. The second was because Agent DiNozzo is the second-most dangerous member of the team. A cop, one of those who looked the other way. And the son Leroy Jethro Gibbs never had. Just as the great man is the father that Agent DiNozzo wishes he could have. Agent DiNozzo is the one I will hurt the most before this is done. The women do not matter. Leroy Jethro Gibbs has survived the loss of a daughter before, an innocent. He survived the loss of female agents before, even ones quite close to him. He will hate the man who kills them, threaten him with death as he did with Ari Haswari. But the man who can kill the best young agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs has ever worked with, that will strike fear into his heart. Only then will he know how I felt. Only then will he understand what he has done.