The light had begun to fade in the office, the last remains of the sun's rays shined through the window at the edge of the bullpen. Each agent worked furiously at their respective desk, finding out the information needed to piece together pieces of their current investigation. Any minute from now the team would run through its usual routine of relaying various bits of information to one another, hoping to form a bigger picture that before, one which was filled with far more detail and possible paths they could all take in order to find the perpetrator of the crime at hand.
DiNozzo's desk was covered in various sheets of paper from a number of different departments, ranging from medical, financial and military. For the past hour or so, the Italian agent had combed through every conceivable detail about the Officers' life, right down to the report cards he had from high school. With any kind of luck, when the time came, Tony would be able to slot the information he had together with material gathered by Ziva or McGee.
The job assigned to the Israeli agent was raking through phone records, both landline and cell, and also any recent credit card activity. Any areas of repeated activity would be highlighted and relayed back to the remaining members of the team, and perhaps a name could be put to that number or company.
On the other side of the bullpen, McGee allowed his eyes to focus upon the CCTV footage recovered from the school, paying particular attention to the time of the murder which had now been confirmed by Ducky. Looking out for anything out of the ordinary or unusual, McGee duly noted down the timings of any activity which was not expected inside a secure military school. So far, nothing had come up as interesting, but when the black and white tape was fast forwarded throughout the day, it became far more intriguing.
As usual, Special Agent Gibbs strolled through the bullpen, having come from the Directors' office, and addressed his fellow agents, "What we got?"
First, Tony stood from his desk, grabbing the controller for the screen so he could present the information he had to the rest of the team, "Officer Ryan Carlyle. Forty six years old, divorced with a seventeen year old son. Carlyle was honourably discharged from the military in 2008, having served two tours in Iraq and Baghdad, before he switched to teaching at Franklin Military." As he spoke, Tony pulled up the appropriate slides, highlighting the areas he was presenting, "Had one serious injury in 2007; bullet to the chest but after three weeks in Bethesda and physio, he was back serving. Nothing much of interest, until we get to his phone and credit bills, which I believe was…"
"…My job," Ziva announced, taking the controller from Tony's hand, bringing up the documents she had been researching. "There are the usual calls to banks, ex-wife and son but there is one number which continually crops up after March 2011. Having traced the number, and found out its owner, it is one Michael Dunne who is one of his students." The phone number and school profile of Dunne appeared on the screen, the number highlighted in a fluorescent green bar, its importance clear. "When compared to Carlyle's credit card bills, things get even more interesting. About a week after Carlyle called Dunne, two thousand dollars would be deposited into Dunne's account."
"Looks as if they were more than student and teacher," DiNozzo commented.
With a nod of her head, Ziva continued, "According to yesterdays phone records, Carlyle called Franklin Military and called in sick. So, it begs the question, 'why was he there?'."
McGee stepped forward from his desk after having tapped a few things into his computer, "Uh, well, he actually wasn't there all day." The junior agent pulled up the CCTV footage he had been reviewing, isolating a one hour period, "Carlyle arrived at two pm, having been authorised by security at the front," He fast forwarded the tape to twenty minutes, pausing it on the image of the hallway where Carlyle's classroom was, "At nearly half past two, Carlyle headed into his classroom, but ten minutes earlier, a student had gone in there alone,"
"Dunne?" Gibbs questioned, looking to the junior agent.
McGee lightly shrugged his shoulders, "The tape is of a too bad quality to get an identity for definite, but with height and uniform, it was not a teacher." Once again, McGee forwarded the tape, allowing it to play less than a minute later, "Since there is no sound, we don't know what was said in the room, and there's no CCTV in classrooms, but five minutes later, the student runs out and, assumingly, heads back to class."
Special Agent Gibbs stood in front of the screen, silently contemplating their next move. "Get some rest. We'll question Dunne in the morning,"
The team, especially Tony, didn't need that repeated. Working as an NCIS agent, or any job within government agency, was tiring and long work and days were mostly fuelled by caffeine rich coffee and the knowing that at the end of the day, home would be waiting for them; a place where paperwork didn't exist. Immediately dispersing, each member of the team went to their desks, gathering up the few items they regularly took home.
DiNozzo nearly raced to his desk, sweeping up his backpack onto the hard wooden surface of the structure. Unzipping the top of it, he placed his badge, gun and a few papers inside before closing it, securing the items inside. Picking up the heavier bag, Tony swung it over his shoulder, turning off the light which stood on the corner of his desk as he looked around the office which was now shorter of employees. His eyes soon drifted over to his partner's desk, a warm smile crossing his lips, "You want me to give you a lift?"
Ziva offered a smile in return, walking over to where Tony stood, only his desk separating them. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, "I thought you would never ask,"
A small chuckle slipped past Tony's lips, "Well, as I recall, we have a date tonight and since I'm hosting, it is traditional that I offer you a lift," He slid round the corner of his desk, giving a quick backward glance to make sure nothing had been left behind.
"I didn't know DiNozzo's did traditional…" Ziva mused quietly, the first remains of her smile still dancing effortlessly over her lips as the two partners headed over to the elevator.
Pressing the round, illuminated button on the side of the wall beside the metal doors, Tony lightly leaned his weight against the wall, his shoulder resting against its hard, orange surface, "Oh there's a lot you don't know about DiNozzo's, Zi. You may think we're movie-loving, charming guys, which is completely true, but there's a whole lot more to us,"
Ziva laughed, a sound which seemed to echo with content, "Well, I have a lot to learn," A 'ding' echoed above them, signalling the imminent arrival of the elevator. Sure enough, seconds later, the metal, silver doors slid open, exposing its empty contents to the agents. Stepping inside, Ziva spun around on her heel, pressing the button for the garage as Tony soon joined her.
His emerald eyes settled on his partner's slender form, his lips curling up into a gentle smile. As the doors slid together once more, his gaze soon met with hers, sending Tony's heart into a flurry. Everything was perfect and there was no need for any words to be said; their eyes said it all. Simultaneously, their hands joined together, their fingers lacing through each other's.