Chapter 17 – Debriefings
Gibbs and Tony met with Vance in his office at 9 a.m. "It's just as well that you requested this meeting, gentlemen," said Vance as he poured coffee for them. "I would have wanted to meet with you today, anyway. We might as well get this out of the way before you meet with the debriefing counselor."
"Who do we have this time?" Tony asked, grimacing. "Not old Lardhead Monotone, I hope."
Vance smiled slightly. "Dr. Laird Monolo is one of the counselors coming in today, but you don't have to see him if you don't want to. Due to the large number of witnesses, we're getting three counselors to be able to meet with everyone affected before the end of the day. You can also choose from Dr. Jon Blass or Dr. Lynn Overby, who is new."
Tony brightened. "Is she young? Dr. Overby?"
"I don't know, but I do know that he is male."
After grumbling about misleading names, Tony finally decided on Dr. Blass, whom he at least knew.
"What did you want to see us about, Leon?" asked Gibbs.
"Probably the same thing you wanted to see me about. Your team is down two members; neither of whom will be back for at least a month, and not ready for field duty, likely, for a month after that. Now what am I going to do with you two in the meantime?"
Tony punched one hand into another. "Let us go hunt these SOBs to the rocks they're hiding under. I want to bash some heads!"
"Understandable," Vance nodded. "I'd like to do that, too. But that's exactly why neither of you can be involved in this investigation, at any level. The slightest taint…the slightest hint of force from us…and the people behind this could walk. And I'm not going to have that. I want anyone connected to this heinous act behind bars." He rose, and walked behind Gibbs and Tony, and then leaned over them, one hand on the back of the chair of each. "I have sometimes looked the other way when I've ordered you not to do something, and you've done it anyway. Not this time. Either of you so much as involve one pinky finger in this, I will make your lives hell. Understood?"
He saw them nod, but pretended he didn't. "I can't hear you."
"Yes, sir." "Understood."
"Good. Now…as for what you do do…"
"I'm not looking forward to be the AdminisTrivia player, as Tony puts it."
"Didn't think you were. And Agent DiNozzo, you're too valuable in the field to be tied up here working cold cases for two months. So…I'm going to bring in a TAD. With a third member, you'll be almost up to par."
"Oh? Who?" asked Tony.
"I have a couple people in mind. Let me give it some more thought, and we should have someone in place in a few days."
Vance readily granted Leslie's request for an hour off to be spent on the firing range. It was his secretary's way of dealing with stress after the really big stressful events. Leslie would have to go to a debriefing, as he had seen the carnage after the attack (and helped put pressure on Ziva's wound), but the firing range was how he burned off much of his anger.
Leslie had no interest in trying to become an agent, despite some mild encouragement from Vance. He knew his limitations, he'd often said. He was a little intimidated by his naturally slender build; figured it was a weakness. He also didn't like the idea of getting muddy and dirty in the field. His genes, he insisted, designed him for driving a desk. But he did feel that as one close to the Director, he should be a decent shooter. Vance agreed and allowed him practice time on the range.
This day, Leslie returned from the range looking a little bedraggled…or maybe that was the heat. In any event, he had the slightly smug look that he always wore after slaughtering a slew of paper targets. Vance would chuckle and make sure to stay on his good side.
As one who had also seen the carnage of the squad room attack, Vance too had to submit to a debriefing. He didn't care which counselor he saw; he instructed Leslie to find someone available around the time that he finished his morning duties.
He wound up with Dr. Monolo. After Tony's quip lodged in his brain, Vance had to repeat the doctor's real name to himself over and over in hopes that he wouldn't make a slip.
Monolo was one of the senior analysts under contract to NCIS, and had worked with the agency for years. "For shame, Director," Monolo began. "You know that you are supposed to call in counselors on the day of an incident; not the next day."
"It's still within 24 hours," said Vance, but inwardly he sighed. It was one more thing to feel guilty about.
"Gentlemen, this is Agent John Schmidt, from the Contingency Response Field Office," said Vance. "He was looking for an MCRT experience, and so will be attached to your team for the next two months. Agent Schmidt, this is Supervisory Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, MCRT team leader, and Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, although I think he's been known to bill himself as Very Special Agent."
Tony smiled weakly over Gibbs' and Vance's grins, and shook Schmidt's hand. "Glad to have you, John. How long have you been an agent?"
"Five years," said Schmidt. He had a round, honest face, and a trustworthy look. Vance could see Gibbs and Tony warm to him right away, just as Vance himself had.
"I'll leave you two to show Agent Schmidt around," said Vance. "Gibbs' team rides again."
Vance paid a trip to the hospital that afternoon to see Ziva and Tim. He visited Tim first, and gave him the "warm fuzzy words," as Jackie called them. The sense of cheer, the focus on the day when he'd be back at work, the feeling that Vance spoke for all of the coworkers who missed Tim, and the value that Vance and everyone placed on Tim.
It was almost enough. Although Tim tried to be thankful in return, Vance could see that Tim was disquieted. Tim admitted as much, saying he didn't expect to be shot twice in just five months.
It was indeed a good reason to be upset. Tim would bear additional watching, Vance decided. Agents in similar circumstances had sometimes just left the agency because they couldn't cope with the stress of repeated injuries. He thought that Tim was mentally stronger than most agents, but anyone could break, given enough pressure.
Ziva was calmer than Tim had been. Then again, this was her first injury of 2010. Her anger was directed inward…typical of the professional warriors, Vance thought. "I should have been better prepared," Ziva grumbled. "I should never have let my guard down."
Vance pulled a chair up to her hospital bed. "What could you have done? You don't walk around with your firearm in your hand."
"Perhaps I should. I should have challenged that Lotus woman when she came to the squad room. She did not have the authority to be there."
"But it wasn't expressly off limits to her, or any of the other interns. Agent David, you can't hold yourself responsible for what happened. We didn't think that there could have been further trouble after Alcott was uncovered."
She didn't look satisfied. "Suppose this is a larger plot, Director. Suppose this is just an advance wave. Suppose—"
"Easy, Agent David. This isn't your case, or your team's case. You just concentrate on getting better. We'll have it solved by the time you're back to work."
At least, he hoped they would.
Vance surveyed the squad room from the balcony. Outside, heavy rains pounded Washington. Gibbs' team was heading out on a field assignment. Young Schmidt had lost none of his eagerness, even in dismal weather.
"Director—"
"Yes, Leslie?" Vance turned his head toward his secretary.
"I have the materials that you requested on your desk. The GAO people called to confirm that we suddenly wouldn't leave town before they got here. They reminded us that they'll arrive at 9 o'clock sharp on Friday, September 3 and be here through the 10th."
Another perfect day. Vance hadn't wanted to go out in this weather for lunch, but now it was starting to feel like Wear-a-Hair-Shirt Day. Might as well go and get wet; being reminded of the GAO visit meant nothing worse was likely to happen. He scowled. Some agency heads would take their other-agency visitors out to lunch, even if everyone paid his/her own way. Vance was not one to pamper visitors unless it was unavoidable. Let them get their own lunch. The GAO would be here for a week. Maybe, if things went well, Vance would suggest that they all go out for lunch on the last day. But probably not.
"They're not expecting to be working on Labor Day, are they?"
"No, sir. The team leader brought that up. They won't be here on the 6th. We can refresh the boiling oil over the weekend."
"Leslie, I like how you think."
"Just trying to keep in step, sir."
The GAO team, two women and one man, was coming here to review how NCIS operated. The Office served to monitor how federal agencies spent federal funds, and to report to Congress on that. No one ever liked to be audited by anyone, and this long-scheduled, mandated visit just seem like the cap to a year that had already been bruised by Vance's having to go hat-in-hand before the Senate committee.
Still, Vance told himself, the team auditing NCIS were just people; probably decent enough civil servants just doing their job. He tried to resist the temptation to draw horns on all of them in his mind. He also wondered, fleetingly, if there was some emergency somewhere in the world that would require his presence, and leave Gibbs to deal with the GAO. But that was wrong, he knew. Besides, NCIS couldn't afford to have Gibbs quit.
"Oh, please, no, Director," Leslie begged, reading his thoughts. "Please don't make me spend all week babysitting the GAO."
"Well, who then, Leslie? I can't be tied up doing it." Although he had little doubt that some of his predecessors might have gloried in just that.
Leslie fumbled. "Well, uh, Abby Sciuto would probably be very helpful to them. Or Doctor Mallard."
For the first time that day, Vance genuinely laughed. "Either scenario would be amusing to watch. It might also get them out of here more quickly."
"But you're not going to seriously entertain either idea."
"What do you think?"
"I think I'll be the one stuck with them."
"Who knows? You might enjoy it."
"And I might enjoy a root canal, sir. But somehow, I doubt it."
Vance called GW hospital late in the afternoon to get an update on Tim's and Ziva's status. He'd been by to see them both a few more times, but not as often as he would have liked. There were never enough hours in his day.
He'd devoutly hoped that they would have been released from the hospital by now. But their recoveries kept hitting stumbling blocks, and according to their doctors, they were now looking at next week…maybe. If all went well.
It was discouraging, and yet another reminder of how fragile life was.
When he got home that night, Vance gave his wife and children an extra hug.
Friday, August 27
Tuesday, August 24
Thursday, August 12
Tuesday, August 10