Note: Yay! Chapter two is big! Sorta... I hope I kept all of the characters in their personalities okay. :)
Another wad of paper bounced off Tim's desk, joining the others surrounding his trashcan. Rolling his eyes, the computer techie continued to type.
"You know Tony, you do have your own trashcan," Tim said, squinting at his computer.
"I prefer throwin' them in your trash, McGee," Tony chuckled, tossing another wad in the general direction of his workmate.
"Here are your burritos," Ziva called as she stepped out of the elevator, making her way to the bullpen. She tossed both boys a breakfast burrito wrapped up in tinfoil and sat at her own desk. Fresh spots of rain speckled her NCIS jacket.
"Did it rain?" Tony asked, taking a monstrous bite of the burrito.
"It was starting to," Ziva answered and flicked on her computer.
Gibbs walked out of MTAC, clearly annoyed that his new assignment would send his team out onto the rough Atlantic. It just made it worse that one of his agents got sea sick.
"Gear up," Gibbs walked behind his desk and scribbled directions onto a piece of scrap paper. "We're goin' out on a ship."
He heard the different responses from his team. Tim groaned, Tony asked if it'd be like the Chimera, and Ziva wanted to know more about the case.
"You'll be briefed on the flight out there," Gibbs picked up his jacket and shrugged it on. "You have one hour to gather your stuff and meet back here."
One hour had come and gone. They were at the military base, preparing for the helicopter ride out to the ship. Everyone kept having déjà vu of the time they went on the Chimera and got the fright of their life.
"What is the name of the ship?" Ziva questioned, fastening on her helmet.
"The Black Raptor," a Naval officer answered, securing his own helmet. "Not allowed to tell you much else, ma'am."
"Never heard of it," Gibbs grumbled, slinging his bag on his shoulder.
"And it should've stayed that way, sir," the officer lead them out to the helipad, where a helicopter was waiting. "Watch your step."
The start of the ride was fine, but when they got out over open waters, it got rough. Everyone was hanging onto their seats with white knuckles, except Gibbs who appeared to not even notice the turbulence.
"A little nervous there DiNozzo?" Gibbs smirked at his senior field agent.
"I'm good, Boss," Tony bared his teeth in a half-hearted grin and gripped his seat tighter as the helicopter bounced.
"How much longer until we are there, Gibbs?" Ziva asked, shouting to be heard.
"There it is," the silver haired man pointed down to the fog covered waves. A large ship was visible, plowing through the fifteen foot swells.
"Well, there goes our only ride home," Tony snorted, turning away from the quickly fleeing helicopter.
"Suck it up, DiNozzo," Gibbs took the lead, trying to find the quickest way to get out of the freezing Atlantic winds. There was a door that was slightly cracked open. "C'mon guys."
"Jethro, this place looks completely deserted," Ducky noted, following the silver haired man. "Reminds me of our time on the Chimera."
"That was horrible," Tony notably shivered. He remembered getting scared out of his life on that ship.
Tim braced himself on the walls of the hallway. His stomach was already protesting, threatening to make him spew his breakfast burrito. Good thing I brought lots of meclizine, the young agent thought and wondered if it was going to help any. He had been bad on the Chimera, and it wasn't even moving. And this ship is plowing full force through huge swells. Tim shook his head, following Ziva who was in front of him. Wait, if this ship is moving…
"Boss, there has to be someone on board to pilot the ship," Tim spoke up, his voice sounding a little nauseated.
"You think, McObvious?" Tony teased, and then realized he was right. "So then this ship can't be completely deserted, can it?"
"Unless it's on autopilot," Ziva suggested, turning a sharp corner to keep up with Gibbs.
"Can this large of a ship be put on autopilot?" Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer either from Ducky or Gibbs.
"It's going too fast to be on autopilot, Anthony," Ducky answered. "Someone must still be here."
"This'll do for a bunk," Gibbs pushed opened a door. There were six bunks, a cubby for bags, and another door that presumably lead to a bathroom. He took off his helmet and tossed it onto a bottom bunk he was claiming as his. "We're going to do a sweep of the ship in five minutes, so get settled in fast."
Tim's stomach couldn't hold it anymore. He threw down his bag and helmet and locked himself in the bathroom, grateful that it was so close.
"Isn't sad that Probie's stomach can't get used to the sea?" Tony snickered as he set his helmet on his bag, and claimed a top bunk as his.
"And I assume that your stomach got used to it over night?" Ziva sneered, taking her hair out of her ponytail and redoing it tighter after she removed her helmet.
"It did, actually," Tony replied, tucking an arm behind his head and closing his eyes.
"It is a shame really, that Timothy can't handle the high seas," Ducky sighed and took off his helmet as well. He took off his glasses and used a handkerchief to clean the spots off of them. "Where did Jethro go?"
"I believe he walked a little further down the hall," Ziva answered and shrugged her coat off.
"Ah," Ducky laid his bag on a lower bunk, leaving it to Ziva and Tim to decide who slept on the last bottom bunk.
Tim reappeared from the bathroom, dark circles under his eyes. Man, he hated being on the sea. I'll be lucky if I last the rest of the time here, Tim thought and rubbed his eyes. He did feel a little better though, now that he had nothing to barf up.
"McGee, you can have the bottom bunk," Ziva looked at her partner sympathetically and tossed her bag on the bunk above Gibbs' bunk.
"Thanks Ziva," Tim said appreciatively and moved his bag from the floor to the bunk.
"C'mon team," Gibbs appeared in the door way and called for the rest of his team. "This ship is pretty big." His crystal blue eyes spotted Tony about ready to fall asleep on the bunk above Ducky's. "Move your hind end now, DiNozzo!"
"I'm on it, Boss!" Tony rolled over and landed with a thud on his feet, luckily.
After rolling his eyes at his senior field agent, he spoke. "We'll split up into two teams. McGee and Ziva, you take the stern and DiNozzo, Ducky, and I'll take the bow."
Ziva nodded after shoving a magazine into her SIG. Tim holstered his gun and followed the Israeli woman out the door and to the right. Gibbs and the other two went to the left.
"You think it's a good idea we split up, Jethro?" Ducky questioned.
"This ship would've never gotten searched if we didn't," Gibbs replied. But I hate to split the team on this ship, he thought bitterly. My gut says this place is bad. Or hinky.
The corridors had doors left and right, mostly just store rooms and crew quarters. Everything was a drab gray or tan, with letters and numbers stenciled in black here and there.
"Whoa!" Tony pulled up short as they rounded a corner and waved his hand in front of his nose. "I smell something dead!"
The stern of the ship was quiet, except for the occasional creaking. Tim was in the lead with Ziva hot on his heels. They both had their guns drawn, just in case someone popped out of a door. It had been ten minutes since they split up and Tim was already getting a little winded.
"Let's stop for a sec," Tim leaned against one of the cool walls of the hallway, letting his eyes flutter shut.
Ziva paused for a moment. He does not tire this quickly, she thought. It is because of his seasickness, the answer became clear as Ziva thought about it.
"Are you getting sick again?" Ziva asked as she leaned next to him.
"A little," Tim replied and opened his eyes. "I'm fine though. I have nothing in my stomach to spew."
"You are ready to go then, yes?" Ziva stood up straight again and started to walk down the corridor. Tim followed after her.
"Where is that smell coming from?" Gibbs had smelled a lot of bad things, but this was horrible. He covered his nose with his arm and plowed ahead, keeping his gun at the ready.
The smell was coming from a metal door that was partly open. Gibbs signaled for Tony to get on the other side of the door. When his agent was in position, he pulled the door open and aimed his SIG.
"Oh my God," Tony gagged and closed his eyes and shielded his nose and mouth.
Broken, torn, and shredded bodies of barely recognizable crew members littered the floor. Dried blood stained the once white tiles almost black. Lab equipment and shattered glass lay haphazardly on the floor. A mass murder had taken place.
"Oh my," Ducky whispered.
Please remember to R&R! Thanks! Oh, and do any of you know whether Tim's right handed or left handed? :P