A/N: Ok folks, this chapter just couldn't wait to be written! Many thanks again for the lovely reviews. Keep 'em coming - I thrive on encouragement :) This one ends with a big cliffie...yes, I know I'm evil...sorry...
Rating: T for a teeny bit of bad language in this chapter.
Spoilers: Season 7, especially 'Rule 51'
Disclaimer: Louisa and the other OC's are mine; the rest of 'em belong to CBS...alas!
Monday, May 31, 2010 8:33 a.m.
All hell had broken loose in the international waters north of the Gaza strip while Tony slept, and when he flipped on the TV at 6:15 a.m. this morning, CNN was engaging in its usual obsessive-compulsive 'Breaking News' routine concerning the early-morning Israeli strike against the Mavi Marmara. He groaned inwardly, knowing this turn of events, although predictable, was going to put their investigation under an even larger microscope.
Sure enough, Gibbs was chomping at the bit, which Tony realized as soon as he stepped off the elevator into the squad room - 3 minutes late. Luckily, he'd thought to swing by Starbuck's on the way in, to pick up a Venti Arabian Dark, which he proffered to his impatient superior as the latter breezed past Tony's desk.
"Nice of you to join us, DiNozzo," Gibbs grunted, grabbing the coffee without so much as a thank you. "Vance wants to see us in MTAC." The rest of the team was already on their way up the stairs. Tony dropped his backpack on his desk and quickly joined them, bracing himself for a rather unpleasant debriefing, with Gibbs on his six.
It went pretty much as Tony would have predicted. Cyber Crimes was still working on the trace, nothing yet to report; Penachetti and SECNAV were trying to contain the fallout. The SIGINT division at NSA remained on lockdown, so the threat of additional inflammatory messages being sent was averted for the moment. The focus would now shift to finding and exposing the mole so SIGINT could resume normal operations as quickly as possible. Quietly exposing the mole. They couldn't risk the public finding out this whole mess had been triggered by an American tip-off; that would spell diplomatic disaster. The team was instructed to review all the interview footage again, and lean further on those candidates whose stories didn't quite hold up, just in case Cyber Crimes was unsuccessful in their efforts. Tony swallowed hard, realizing that Louisa would be on that list.
11:27 a.m.
Six names. It all came down to this. Gibbs and McGee took Petty Officer 2nd Class Omar Kasim, PO 1st Class Jake Halden, and Lieutenant Deborah Rehnquist. Ziva and Tony drew CPO Sandra Felton, Seaman James Leung, and PO 1st Class Louisa Penachetti. Oh great. For one brief moment Tony considered asking for a switch, but then realized that it might go better for Louisa with him asking the questions rather than Gibbs. But he knew it was a bad idea. Damn. What would he do if she cracked under the pressure, and he had to arrest her? Shit.
The pairs went their respective ways, a customized list of questions for each suspect in hand, based on the holes that had been identified in their previous testimony. Tony made sure he grabbed the keys to the Dodge Charger before Ziva could even offer to drive; he needed to drag this out as long as possible. These people were on the evening shift, and he knew they'd be waking them up when they came banging on their door.
He usually enjoyed this phase of an investigation - catching the suspects off guard, hitting them with a barrage of questions designed to drain all the life out of them, then finally moving in to sink the stake through the heart. Blood sport with a badge. But he took no joy in knocking on Louisa Penachetti's door; their final destination of the morning.
"I will ask the questions this time," Ziva declared, as they climbed the steps to the apartment building and let themselves in behind an incoming tenant.
He shot her a fiery glance. "I'm the senior field agent, Probie."
"You must recuse yourself in this instance, Tony. It is not appropriate for you to be involved."
How the hell did she know? "What are you talking about?" he feigned ignorance.
"Your friendship with the suspect's brother places you in a conflict of interest," she replied testily. He was trying her patience.
Ziva just wanted to get this over with so she could get back to monitoring the unfolding drama in the Mediterranean. She'd been glued to the TV since about 6:00 a.m., her heart in her throat as she realized how bad this looked for the Israeli government. Netanyahu was in Canada meeting with Prime Minister Stephen Harper at the time of the attack. But Ziva knew that the Israeli Defense Force would never engage in this manner without an order from the top. What had he been thinking? The official word from the Israeli government so far was that the raid was completely justified because the protesters on the Mavi Marmara had attacked the IDF as they attempted to board the ship. But there was no evidence, as yet, that any of those aid workers had been armed. In fact, at this point their sources were suggesting that it had been complete and utter overkill. Initial reports were that nine protesters had lost their lives, in a bloody battle that, from what she could see, was totally unnecessary. She really didn't care who had sent the message at this point; all she cared about was that her people would be tarnished with this ugly stain for years to come.
Her people. She stopped herself short. Where did that come from? They were no longer her people; she was an American now. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and noticed Tony staring blankly at her as they stood outside Louisa Penachetti's apartment door.
"How do you know I'm friends with Pete?" he queried suspiciously.
She hesitated a moment, then: "I have heard you talking to him on the phone, numerous times."
"I never mentioned his last name, Zee-vah. Try again." He suddenly felt very uneasy, exposed. "You've been reading my e-mails," he concluded. "So what else did you find out about me? Huh?"
"Tony. This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation," she hissed.
"Don't try to change the subject, Ziva. You've been snooping around my desk again, haven't you? What is it you find so fascinating about me?"
"Pot calling kettle black," she retorted, pleased with herself that she'd gotten the phrase correct this time around. She pushed past him and knocked firmly on Louisa's door. No response. She banged with the side of her fist this time, shouting, "NCIS, open up!" Still nothing.
She drew her gun, and was about to kick in the door when Tony put his hand out, and gave her a look that said, what the hell do you think you're doing? He pulled out his cell phone, scanned the top page on his clipboard (which contained all the contact information on their six remaining 'persons of interest'), and dialled Louisa's number. "She's not ignoring you, Ziva. She's sleeping."
Ziva reluctantly restored her weapon to its holster, and waited. After an agonizing four rings, there was a muffled "Hello?".
"Hi. This is Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. I'm sorry to wake you up, but my partner and I need to talk to you for a few minutes. Can you come open the door for us?"
Ziva rolled her eyes. "Not exactly the usual approach when one is about to question a suspect," she mocked.
"You get up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" Tony shot back, defensively. "Don't worry, I'll let you take the lead. Just... go easy, would you? I'm in enough hot water with Pete as it is."
They heard the deadbolt being unlatched, and slowly the door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed and tousled Louisa, all bundled up in her purple chenille robe and fuzzy slippers. She looked like one of the Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. Or an Ewok from Star Wars. Tony couldn't decide which. "I suppose you're here to interrogate me again," she snarled, staring defiantly at Tony. So much for cute and cuddly. Her gaze was so intense, he had to avert his eyes.
Ziva interjected, "That is correct. May we come in?"
Louisa's jaw dropped in amazement, then she stepped back from the doorway, waving her arm towards the sunlit living room in mock welcome, and they marched right in. "You guys just don't have any boundaries, do you?" she growled. As if to prove her right, Tony wandered over to a desk by the living room window, casually examining a photo of the Penachetti Navy Trio - the Admiral in the centre, flanked on either side by his son and daughter, all three proudly decked out in dress whites. He guessed that it had been taken the day Louisa had received her First Class chevron. He riffled unobtrusively through the papers strewn across the desk. There were a number of small, yellow scraps with little notes scrawled on them, but they'd been folded in quarters and he couldn't quite read them without being too obvious, so he let it go and returned his attention to the two women. Pot calling kettle black, indeed.
"When national security is at stake, boundaries are not relevant, Petty Officer," the Mossad-trained agent remarked simply. She stood across from Louisa by the coffee table, but neither one sat down. Louisa wasn't about to make this aggressive woman feel any more at home, and for her part, Ziva wanted to remain in a dominant, standing position. Louisa stood right in front of her, arms folded, jaw set. Tony half-expected some barrage of Hebrew insults to come spewing back and forth between them, but instead Ziva merely challenged, "You lied to us about your access to NSA communications equipment. Why?"
The question hit its intended mark. Louisa's face went pale. Her shoulders sagged, her head dropped, and she breathed a shaky sigh, collapsing onto the couch and biting her lower lip. Instinctively, Tony sat down beside her, but he didn't dare touch her, and he fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands. Was she about to cry? He couldn't tell. The dread he felt at this moment was like a wave of nausea and a wicked heartburn all rolled into one.
"Ok. I did send an unauthorized transmission...once... 6 months ago." Her eyes shifted nervously between Tony and Ziva, the latter having now sat down in the armchair opposite in order to maintain a good view of Louisa's mannerisms. "But it was totally innocent!" There was that eyebrow thing again. She realized she wasn't convincing the former Israeli, but she pressed on regardless. "My brother, Pete...he's a JAG officer...he was assigned to the U.S.S. Nimitz in the Persian Gulf during 'Operation Enduring Freedom'." Tony nodded - he remembered it well. For almost four months he'd had no contact with his buddy, other than the occasional e-mail. "It was Christmas!" she wailed. "Julia and the kids, they missed him so much. They just wanted to send him a video message." She let the words settle in the air for a moment before continuing. Her voice now dropped to almost a whisper. "I piggy-backed the signal on another communique that was going out at the same time...so it would be less likely to be detected."
They sat for a moment, absorbing her words, processing them in their minds. She began to quiver, the shock of her admission setting in. Without thinking, Tony took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
She continued, "I know it was a very foolhardy thing to do. Neither Pete nor my Dad ever asked me how I got the message to him. And I just kept quiet and hoped it would never come up. If Lieutenant Commander Schumacher ever found out what I did, I'd be facing, at the very least, a formal reprimand in my file, and quite possibly a court martial." She paused, studying Ziva's expression, which had softened, albeit almost imperceptibly. "You're going to have to tell him, aren't you?" she squeaked, as a single tear, belying the abject terror she now felt, rolled down her cheek.
They were interrupted by the ring of Tony's cell. Tony released Louisa's hand with a start, sliding the phone out of his pocket and glancing at the call display. "Gibbs." He flipped it open. "Yeah, Boss?" A pensive look. A furrowed brow. "Uh-huh." An upper lip curled slightly. "Ok, we'll be right there." The phone snapped shut, and Tony rose to his feet, suddenly all business. "Ziva, we gotta go. Thanks for your cooperation, Petty Officer."
"It's Louisa, Agent DiNozzo."
He smiled warmly at her. "It's Tony, Louisa." Ziva looked heavenward, silently wondering if there was any woman on the planet on whom Tony wouldn't try to unleash his charms.
Louisa grinned, and nodded shyly, escorting them to the door. Her expression abruptly turned serious as she opened it. "You'll let me know if I'm going to be in trouble, won't you?"
Tony affirmed, "Don't worry. I'll explain the circumstances. I'm sure the Commander will understand." He really had no way of knowing how the Navy would react to having their comm systems misused in such a manner, but he somehow felt compelled to reassure her anyway. He touched her upper arm, ever so lightly, and contemplated her features for a long moment before quickly turning and heading down the hallway. "PROBIE!" he called to his partner without so much as a backward glance.
Ziva fell into step next to him. Once they were out of earshot from Louisa's door, she quizzed him. "Where are we going?"
"Jake Halden's apartment. Gibbs and McGee found him dead on his living room floor...took a bullet to the chest."