Chapter 8 – Post-Budget
Friday, March 26
Today was the most wonderful of days; the day after Congress approved the budget for the Department of Defense and thus the day that NCIS' 249 furloughed workers (one of the 250 furloughed having resigned) were being welcomed back. At Headquarters this meant a return of 108 employees. The building would seem pleasantly noisy once again.
Leslie Baker had arrived extra-extra early that day, and, taking charge of the operation, had set up a table at the front door, just before Security, to hand out the IDs to the returning other 107. Vance stood beyond Security, watching and smiling.
"Good morning, Arnie. Here's your badge. Are you going to be able to adjust to not watching cartoons on TV all day long?"
The Cybercrimes worker didn't even look particularly affronted that his semi-secret was out. "That's what Tivo's for," he said mildly, and moved on through the checkpoint.
"Welcome back," Leslie said to the next person in line. "Enjoy your weeks of magazines and bon-bons?"
"I…do not eat bon-bons," the rather stout woman said crossly.
"Sorry, Lorraine. I was addressing Tom, behind you," Leslie said, without missing a beat. "Did you have a nice time at the car wash?"
"Um…yes. I suppose I did." Lorraine, looking a little perplexed, moved on.
"You're a master at the fast comeback, you know," said Tom to Leslie after Lorraine was gone.
"It helps, in this job," Leslie admitted. "How were the bon-bons?"
Vance smiled and shook the hand of everyone who came in. He really was glad to see them back. Nine work days without them had seemed like a very long time. "Agent David! Good to see you back."
"It is my pleasure to be back, Director. I have never wanted to be anywhere but here."
"No regrets at all?"
"Well…the cherry blossoms are just coming out, and the weather is turning nice. Perhaps one more week…"
He grinned. "Not this year. But we'll see if we can get you out in the field a couple of times."
Yes, indeed. The family was back together.
Thursday, April 1
"A package came for you, Director."
"Who's it from, and do I really care, Leslie?" Vance mumbled, deep in a report from the LA Special Projects office that was on his screen.
"I don't know, and probably not," Leslie replied. "I didn't open it, sir. It's from the Jacksonville office, and is marked personal and confidential, and made it through the mail room scanners, so…"
Vance glanced up. Leslie was still playing catch-up from nearly two weeks of being off, and looked tired. Of course Vance probably hadn't helped matters by having messed up some of Leslie's directories and appointment calendars and so on, inadvertently. Usually Leslie tore into Vance's mail, even the personal and confidential mail, without any regrets. Now he was run-down and cautious.
"I don't care if it comes from Santa Claus and is marked P&C. Go ahead; open it all."
"Yes, Director." Setting the package on Vance's desk, Leslie took his pocket knife to it.
"Not here, please, Leslie; I don't want the things on my desk mussed. Use the conference table." Vance motioned to the table a few feet away.
"Yes, sir." If Leslie thought Vance's statement was odd, since Vance only had a stapler and a pen on his desk, he didn't say so.
Leslie cut through the tape on the brown paper-wrapped box, and then the tape on the box itself—and then fell back with a yell as orange and green things shot into the air.
"Snakes," he said a moment later, picking himself off the floor and seeing the three lengths of fabric and springs lying inert. "Snakes, like the snakes that come in cans."
Vance could hold it in no longer, and erupted in laughter. "April Fool's!"
"That was good," Leslie said, after considering a moment. "Not your typical April Fool's Day hoax. I didn't see that coming at all. How did you get it past the mail room sensors?"
"I just let Rupert in on the gag. I thought you were probably too tired to notice that the stamps and the "postmark" were painted on."
" 'Republic of Florida'. Yep; I missed that."
"Good to have you back, Leslie. I can't play pranks on just anyone."
"Part of my job, sir." With a wry smile, Leslie went back to his desk.
Vance was in the squad room, speaking with Gibbs and Ziva in the late morning, when Tony came in, beaming. "I'm good to go!" Tony announced. "Clean bill of health. Read it and see." He dangled a paper before Gibbs' eyes.
Gibbs scanned it, nodded as he read. "As long as you don't run unless you really need to for awhile, you're cleared for field work. Good job, Tony."
"Guess you have a team again," Vance smiled. "Schultz and her people will be glad to get back on their normal rotation."
In fact, Gibbs' team had been reinstated as soon as Ziva had returned the previous Friday. The only difference was that NCIS was now very leery about sending out agents solo in any but the safest situations. Tim had been very lucky to have gotten off as lightly as he had. They didn't want a repeat of that.
"Is Stan Burley coming back?" asked Ziva.
"Do you want him back?" Vance replied.
"I did not mind having him around, but…"
"Stan's an okay guy," Tony put in. "Still, I wouldn't want him here when McGee gets back. Poor guy has been through enough without feeling again like Stan is cutting in on his territory."
Interesting, thought Vance. I wonder if DiNozzo really realizes what he's saying? "There are no plans to bring Agent Burley back to Headquarters. His father is getting better, and the period of Burley's TAD doesn't need to be extended. He'll finish it out at Bethesda and be back on his ship before the end of the month."
"Let's get to work," Gibbs said with a smile.
He had a meeting after lunch with Ducky in his office. Pouring both of them tea and offering sweet rolls, Vance said, "Give me your assessment, Doctor Mallard. I want to know what you think, medically, about putting people back to work in the field after injuries. Are we rushing things?"
"I assume you're referring to Tony DiNozzo, Director. Well, I saw the note from his physician. I think it's probably all right."
"He's not a youngster, like some of our new hires. He's pushing middle age."
"But that in and of itself is not a limitation. People heal at different rates. Tony prides himself on keeping fit. He was in good shape before breaking his leg, and he seems to have a good constitution. That helps. He probably heals faster than some of our 24-year-old agents."
"Good. That takes a load off my mind. Gibbs is still bothered by what happened to Agent McGee. If Agent DiNozzo were to fall apart in the field…"
"That's unlikely. Most of the time field work is just walking around, with some stooping, bending, reaching, crouching and crawling."
"I'm aware of that. But sometimes they have to…"
"And they'll be prepared for that. I think we can trust Tony to know his limitations. By the end of the month he should be even better."
"My job is not to make Agent Gibbs feel better about having a whole team, again, Doctor."
"I'll dare disagree with you there, Director. Agent Gibbs has been bruised along with his team since the start of the year: first, losing Tony to a broken leg, then losing Ziva to the furlough, and finally, Timothy's wounding. He won't complain about it, but I assure you, Jethro hurt right along with his team."
"He didn't complain to me about it."
"Ah, that's when you need to worry. When Jethro has the strength to bite back, he does so. When he's hurting…hurting because his team hurts…he buries it inside him, and just goes along with what you tell him to do."
Dang. How could I have missed the signs? All those hours he spent doing the administrative stuff for me that I know he hates…he never said a word. "Thank you, Doctor. You've given me a lot to think about. Take the last sweet roll with you."
"Why, thank you, Director. I think I shall. These are quite tasty. Did Mrs. Vance make them?"
"No, actually, I did. I do some baking, now and then. It relaxes me. I love kneading dough."
"A remarkable talent." Ducky rose, his eyes twinkling. "Now, you've given me something to think about."
At three o'clock, Vance had just returned from his last coffee run of the day to find a sticky note on his monitor, from Leslie.
Director-
Important message from the SECNAV requiring your immediate attention. It's complicated. I'm in Legal; call me and I'll come up.
Vance phoned him, and within minutes, Leslie was back. "Sorry I couldn't write it all down or give it to you on the phone, Director. The SECNAV said it was top secret. His phone system has just had an important security upgrade, and all calls will now be encoded."
"Really? This is the first I've hear about it."
"That's because it's so secret, sir. He couldn't tell you about it until the safeguards were in place."
"Well, that makes sense."
"He needs to talk to you. When you phone him, lead off with these three randomly-chosen, secure code words."
"Which words?"
"I'll write them down for you, but you must memorize them immediately because I am then under orders from the SECNAV to destroy them."
"All right. I have a good memory." He reached for the phone receiver while Leslie scribbled on another sticky note on the pad.
Leslie gave him 30 seconds. "Got it, sir?"
"Yes. You can destroy it."
Leslie crumpled the piece of paper into a ball and walked out with it in a tight fist.
"Kel Paulsen speaking."
Vance spoke clearly. He knew how important code words were. "Owa. Tagoo. Siam."
"That you, Leon? Say again?"
"Owa. Tagoo. Siam."
"Security measures. I still didn't get that. My hearing's good for my age; can you speed that up?"
"Owa Tagoo Siam."
"Once more; a little faster."
"Oh what a goose I—Leslie!"
Peals of laughter resounded from Vance's outer office, and also from the SECNAV on the phone. "Got you! Got you! Got you! Don't fire Leslie, Leon; he does like working for you, and if you let him go I'll snatch him up."
"I'll keep that in mind," Vance growled, hanging up.
Leslie stood in the doorway, a tentative smile on his face. "The SECNAV owed me," he explained. "I buy Girl Scout cookies from his granddaughter every year."
"Have you nothing more to say?" Vance challenged, although he could feel his anger crumbling.
"Er…April Fool!"