AN: March is here, which means I need to get back to revisions on the novel. In turn, that means updates are going to slow down to once a week for a while. Probably Wednesdays or Thursdays for now because of my work schedule. And yes, that makes the ending of this chapter very evil. :)
Chapter 8
Abby darted between her various computers, starting tests and running searches trying to find evidence before Gibbs showed up. One had just dinged when Bossman walked in, Caf-Pow in hand.
"Whatcha ya got, Abbs?"
She walked over to the computer and pulled up the results. "Oh, this is not good, Bossman. Really not good." She stared at the images on the screen. "Really, really, really-"
"Abby." Gibbs put his hands on her shoulders. "What did you find?"
"The pewter objects mixed into the shrapnel that killed our Marine were small hearts, sold by a novelty company. You know, the type of thing you pass out on Valentine's Day or something like that."
"Hearts?" Gibbs didn't say anything, and Abby rushed on.
"But Gibbs, that's not the hinky part." She tapped a few more keys and brought up a photo from evidence. "We've seen these before."
Gibbs walked over to the plasma and looked at the screen. "Those aren't damaged from the blast."
Abby shook her head, barely noticing when a pigtail smacked her face. "Those aren't from this case. That's the contents of the pockets of our dead lieutenant at Anacostia, the one Ducky ruled a suicide."
Gibbs cursed. "He was involved?"
"He didn't set the bomb, Gibbs. He was dead. And somebody living set off that bomb this morning."
But Gibbs already was walking out, phone to his ear.
Abby focused on the photos for a second, then started pulling up all the evidence from the case they'd ruled a suicide despite the lack of motive. She had a bad feeling about this one.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
Gibbs waited for the elevator.
"McGee." He didn't wait for the agent to reply. "Did Andrews have the knowledge to make a claymore mine?"
"Andrews? The suicide?"
"Abby just linked him with our dead Marine — he had some of those damn pewter things in his pockets. And he has a science background." Gibbs hung up and stepped into the elevator.
He'd never liked the suicide verdict because it didn't fit. But a sailor who'd helped kill a Marine? That was something to feel guilty about. And if they could tie the sailor to anybody connected to the Marine, they just might be able to find this bastard.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
McGee hung up the phone. "We're screwed."
"What is it, McPessimist?"
McGee told them what Abby had found. "So either our dead sailor helped somebody who's still out there kill a Marine-"
"Or we've got somebody killing sailors and Marines who are like us." Tony finished his sentence.
"I do not understand." Ziva looked up from her desk.
"Simple, Zee-va," Tony said. "We've got a dead Marine boxer from the inner city who used boxing and the Corps as a way out. Sound like anybody we know? Like our esteemed director? And we've got a dead Navy geek who was an MIT McGenius." Tony looked over at him, and McGee paled.
"Oh, shit. I hadn't even thought about that." He swallowed. "I was just going to say 'or we've got a serial killer with a weird calling card.' I didn't think about somebody targeting us."
"Yeah, well, you're the only one on the team who doesn't have an enemies list that's longer than you are tall." Tony shook his head. "The real question is, which kind of case is this?"
"It would seem like the first thing we need to do is figure out if our dead lieutenant was victim or accomplice," Ziva said.
McGee shook his head, rolled his shoulders. He had to focus. "Well, the lieutenant lived on Anacostia and worked at the Pentagon, so while he had access to Little Creek, he couldn't have gotten somebody else access."
"But could he have gotten the bomb on base?" Ziva stood and walked into the middle of the bullpen. "The bomb could have come on base separate from our bomber."
McGee checked the specs he and Abby had compiled. "The bomb could have been made up to two weeks before it was detonated, and as long as the explosive charge wasn't connected, it could have sat in a storage unit or someplace out of the way until it was time to set it."
"And he's a science geek, so he would know how to make one." Tony looked over, and McGee stifled a sigh.
"Andrews was a math geek — that's where cryptography comes from." But McGee started searching his files. "Math and science aren't the same thing, and he could have focused on the math-heavy sciences." He pulled up a copy of the dead lieutenant's transcript. "But he didn't. He took several chemistry courses at MIT. He had the knowledge."
"But we still do not know that he did," Ziva said.
McGee nodded and called down to Autopsy.
"Ducky, did you find any evidence of explosive residue on Lt. Andrews' hands or body?" He listened, then hung up and called Abby to ask the same question about his effects.
"Ducky didn't find anything, and the body's been released. Abby didn't, but she wasn't looking for it, either. She's going to start testing, but said I owe her a Caf-Pow because she's drowning in tests."
"Just gave her one." Gibbs walked into the bullpen. "Report."
The three agents took turns outlining what they had.
"Boss, Abby's testing for any evidence to link Andrews to the bomb, and I'm just putting in a search to cross-reference anybody in his phone and email logs with the lists Tony and Ziva compiled for the bombing."
"Boss, the more disturbing possibility McGee hasn't mentioned is that Andrews wasn't part of the mad bomb plot, but was a victim." Tony sent both photos to the plasma. "If he was, then there aren't any common links — different bases, different branches, different specialties, different backgrounds. The only thing they have in common is one reminds us an awful lot of McGeek and the other of our esteemed director."
"You have evidence for that, Agent DiNozzo?"
McGee looked over his shoulder to see Vance on the landing above the bullpen.
"Abby and I both noticed the similarities between our maybe-not-a-suicidal sailor and McGeek when we worked that case, and we've all been commenting on the similarities between our dead boxer and you, Director."
Vance headed down the steps and joined them in the bullpen. "In that case, you have another case. Dead submariner, just called in."
Before any of them could ask why, the director took the remote from Tony.
"We got the call because this is the first class of women to be stationed on submarines. They started training in December and will graduate next year. Not everybody in the brass is happy about the change." Vance held the remote, yet didn't do anything. "It's a high-profile case, so they sent the information right to me. I noticed something when I saw the sailor's photo in the service record. But I think you'll notice something different." He pulled the file onto the screen. "She looks like Dr. Cranston."
McGee shook his head. "You mean she looks like Kate."
Tony slammed his his hand into the file cabinet. "Dammit, Boss. It has to be deliberate. But how does this guy know this stuff?"
"Agent DiNozzo?" Vance lifted an eyebrow.
"Probie's first case, when he was in Norfolk. An eco-terrorist smuggled sarin gas onto a sub. Gibbs needed a profiler on board to help him figure out who the imposter was, and that meant Kate. The commander on base refused, said women weren't allowed on subs. Gibbs had to threaten him to get Kate aboard." Tony's mouth was set in a grim line as he finished. "How was she killed?"
"A single gunshot to the middle of the forehead." Vance's words hung in the air, and McGee felt his knees wobble a bit. Even Ziva looked pale at that news.
~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~
He drives them hard. He drives himself harder. Especially when he — finally — has caught the scent. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is following the trail I am laying for him, and he and his team will not go home until they run me to the ground. They do not realize that this is part of my plan. When they do realize, it will be too late. The first of their rank will be dead, and the memories it triggers will play right into my hands.