A/N: I had so much fun writing this chapter! I hope you enjoy reading it just as much!

Rating: T (language)

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Do I have to spell it out? Yeah, I guess I do. They're not mine.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010 12:07 a.m.

Louisa Penachetti was allowed one phone call. There was no question who would be the recipient.

"Daddy?" she murmured, her voice quaking.

"Sweet Pea! How did you know I'd still be at the office?" The Admiral was trying his best to remain calm and blasé. But he'd just gotten off the line with NCIS Director Vance, and now knew the situation in which his precious daughter found herself.

She ignored his question. "Daddy, I'm in trouble. Can you call Pete for me?"

"Already did, honey. Don't you worry, he's on his way down there now. We'll get this all sorted out, and you'll be home by morning, you'll see."

It did not dawn on her that this response meant he must have heard about her predicament from someone else. "I don't know, Daddy...they say they traced that signal to my computer... somebody set me up... I don't know how I'm going to prove it wasn't me..."

She was becoming increasingly agitated, and her voice was now almost a squeak. He did his best to calm her. "Now honey, you just let Pete take care of all that. He'll know what to do. Just don't answer any questions until he gets there."

"I won't, Daddy," she sniffled. "... Daddy?"

"Yes, hon?"

"You won't tell Mom, will you?" It wasn't really a question, more like an affirmation.

"No, honey, I won't," he reassured her. "This'll all be over in a few hours, no need to worry your mother unnecessarily."

"Thank you, Daddy... I love you."

"I love you too, Sweet Pea."

No sooner had she gotten off the phone, than she began to berate herself for coming across so feeble and stupid. Where was that signature Penachetti stiff upper lip? She had sounded like...well, like a little girl. Not like the 10-year Navy veteran who'd been through rigorous military training. Not like the tomboy who'd grown up with an older brother who never ceased to put her through the worst childhood trials imaginable. She was embarrassed to have completely lost it in front of Agent David – who she knew had listened in on the conversation, and would no doubt relay the whole thing to Tony. Then it would get back to Pete, and the two of them would have a great laugh, at her expense. That was, assuming she really did get out of this mess.

Ziva led her charge into the interrogation room, and deposited her in a chair. She turned on her heels, shut the door behind her, and headed straight down to the parking garage without even saying goodnight to Tony. She needed to get home quickly so she could turn on CNN again and absorb the political fallout as it unfolded.

Meanwhile, Louisa Penachetti sat alone in Interrogation, stewing in silence.

The drive back had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Louisa had not said one word, and Tony and Ziva couldn't very well discuss the case in front of her. Ziva had tried to make small talk, but he was in no mood for it. So, they'd sat in painful silence for most of the trip, with Tony staring absentmindedly out the window (when he wasn't gripping the edge of the seat for support as they spun around a corner).

He had ducked into the men's room as soon as they'd returned to the Navy Yard; thankfully, he was alone. He unzipped in front of the second urinal and let go with a sigh of relief. It would be great if he could just hide out in here for the next few hours, but part of him needed to witness the interrogation. He felt like one of those annoying neighbours who always hung around crime scenes, just outside the yellow tape; the view was gruesome, but they couldn't help looking anyway. What approach would Gibbs take with her? Would he be gentle, coaxing the information out of her, or would he come at her full bore, trying to shake her up to the point where she would spill her guts just to get him to go away?

He finished up, and did a quick mirror check to ensure everything was in place. (Why the hell did it matter? It was after midnight, and it wasn't like he had a hot date waiting for him...force of habit, he supposed.) He ran his fingers through his hair, splashed a bit of water on his face to wake himself up, and headed back out to the hallway, just in time to see Captain Peter Penachetti marching around the corner towards the interrogation room.

Both men stopped dead in their tracks, sizing each other up. Their eyes locked, and Tony was alarmed to see sheer fury on Pete's countenance. He was a bit shorter than Tony, standing 5'10", with a roundish, clean-shaven face, the same chestnut-brown hair as his sister (although the brush-cut hid the curl), and a muscular build. Pete took his workout regimen seriously, and he had the ripped washboard chest and thick biceps to prove it. Tony always teased him that he looked a little bit like Popeye, only minus the pipe. In a physical altercation, sans weapons, Pete would probably win, hands down, Tony had to concede. But there would be no fisticuffs tonight – this was psychological warfare, and as his friend's eyes bored holes into his soul, Tony's defensive reflex kicked in, and he pulled himself up to his full height and raised his chin for emphasis.

"What the hell's going on, Tony?" Penachetti challenged.

He decided it would be wise to tow the official line for now, and let Pete think he believed in the charge they had laid... just in case the JAG officer's visit with Louisa yielded some additional information they could use. "You tell me, Pete."

"Don't give me that crap. You know as well as I do that my sister didn't send any unauthorized communication. I don't care what your 'evidence' says."

"Wouldn't be the first time... would it, Pete?" As Tony dropped this little bomb, the Captain's mouth opened and closed silently, considering what information the SFA might have. DiNozzo pressed a bit harder. "Yeah, that's right, she told us all about your little Christmas video."

"Oh, come on! That was totally innocent!" And of course, Pete was probably right, but then again, it did prove that she was willing to break the rules for a cause she believed in.

"Yeah, well, not so sure Commander Schumacher's gonna see it that way."

Penachetti abruptly changed the subject. "Why the hell did you have to come down so hard on her, Tony? She was just about freaking when she called me last night."

DiNozzo looked away momentarily, embarrassed. He knew he'd been heavy-handed in the first interview. He had no defence. He continued to avert his eyes as he acknowledged, "I shouldn't have questioned her at all. As soon as I recognized her name, I should've handed it over to my partner. But I was tired, I was hungry, and in a bad mood, and I just wanted to get the whole thing over with and get home. And I guess I went over the line with the whole 'bad cop' routine. What can I say? I'm sorry, Pete."

This was not the reaction Peter Penachetti had expected, and his expression softened slightly as their eyes met once again. After a lengthy silence, during which each tried to analyze the other's thoughts, he decided to let it go. "Well, I'd better get in there and see how she's holding up... Look, Tony, I know I'm putting you in an awkward position, but... if there's anything you can do to help her..." He trailed off, desperation apparent in his voice.

Tony swallowed hard – Pete didn't even know about the impending murder charge yet. This was only going to get worse. "You got it." As his friend headed off down the hall, DiNozzo called after him. "Pete?" The Captain turned and gave him a quizzical look. "Tell her... it wasn't personal."

The JAG officer nodded grimly, and disappeared into interrogation, leaving a forlorn Tony DiNozzo in the sterile hallway.

12:36 a.m.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs strode purposefully into the interrogation room, a legal-sized manila file folder in hand. He sat down opposite the two Penachetti siblings, wearing his best poker face, and mentally sized them up.

Louisa sat up straight, ankles crossed underneath her chair, hands tightly folded in front of her, trying her best to look calm, but her eyes betrayed her, revealing her nervousness. She was unable to meet his gaze consistently for more than a split-second (Gibbs' penetrating blue-grey eyes often had that effect on the suspects he interviewed). For his part, her brother busied himself looking through the written report he'd obtained from the NCIS Cyber Crimes Division, although he couldn't understand a word of it. Technobabble was even more complicated than legalese, he thought ruefully.

"Petty Officer, I'm Special Agent Gibbs. Is this your legal counsel?"

Pete looked up immediately. "I'm Captain Peter Penachetti, Navy JAG. Yes, I'll be representing Petty Officer Penachetti." He was all business. The last thing he wanted was for Gibbs to get familiar and personal, for he knew that was Louisa's weakness.

Without a word, Gibbs opened the folder and pulled out an evidence bag containing a slip of yellow paper. He slid it across the table in front of Louisa. I know what you did.

She glanced at it, a puzzled look on her face, then looked up at him. "Why are you showing me this?"

He pulled out one of the photos that McGee had taken of the murder scene at Halden's apartment, and silently slid it across to her in exactly the same manner. She gasped at the sight of Halden's almost-naked body, lying in a thick pool of blood.

"Oh my God! That's Jake!" And then it hit her. "You – you don't think – that I had anything to do with this?"

Gibbs was still wearing his trademark inscrutable, neutral expression. He pulled out the printout Abby had given him, revealing the message last written from the yellow pad, and presented it on the other side of the photo. I'm going to tell them everything.

Pete was dumbfounded. "Agent Gibbs, I thought we were here to discuss the charges relating to the encrypted communiqué. What's the meaning of this?"

Gibbs ignored the lawyer, and squinted at Louisa. "Why don't you tell me, Petty Officer? Did Halden figure out that you were the mole? Was he blackmailing you?"

"No!" she exclaimed, torn between confusion and panic. "Didn't Agent DiNozzo explain to you about the message I sent?"

"Louisa! Keep quiet!" Pete admonished, fearful that she was giving her interrogator more information than was wise.

"No, Pete! They need to understand... these notes, they have nothing to do with that encrypted message. I already admitted to Agent DiNozzo ... I sent a little family video to Pete last Christmas, using our communications system. I knew it was against regulations, but... Do you have a family, Agent Gibbs?"

His expression softened, as memories of Shannon and Kelly flickered across his consciousness. "I did have."

"Well, then you'll understand. Pete had been at sea for weeks. The kids missed him something awful. I just wanted to let them give him one special gift at Christmastime... Jake found out about it, I don't really know how. He knew I was terrified of getting caught. And he played it for all it was worth... I hated him for it... But I would never kill him!"

At this, Gibbs pulled out yet another piece of evidence – the ballistics report. "You own a Glock 32, .357 Magnum."

"Yes..." She glanced nervously at her brother, who grabbed the report out of Gibbs' hand before he even had the chance to explain why he was brandishing it. As the Captain studied it, Gibbs pressed on.

"We've identified your weapon as the one used to murder Petty Officer Halden." He paused a moment, for effect. "We found no fingerprints on the gun other than your own."

"That's not possible! I only use that gun for target practice. I keep it locked up at the gun club. You can check with them."

He shuffled his papers, and pulled out another document. "Why do you have a Concealed Weapon Permit, Petty Officer, if you never take the gun off-range?"

She gulped. "My father said it was a good idea to have the permit, just in case. I've never used it."

"In case of what?" It was a rhetorical question, and after letting the question hang in the air for one or two seconds, Gibbs went on. "You checked the gun out at 08:32 hours the morning of May 31st, and returned it at 10:16 hours. The biometric scanner confirms this."

"That's not possible! I was sleeping at that time!"

"Can anyone verify that?"

(Behind the glass in Observation, Tony rolled his eyes. C'mon Gibbs, does she really strike you as the type who would have someone sleeping over?)

"NO."

Not unless you count Whiskers. She appeared genuinely offended, almost disgusted, by the insinuation that she might have company in her bed.

"We also found your fingerprints on various surfaces in the apartment. And several hairs, which we were able to identify as yours using DNA sequencing. That evidence places you there, at the crime scene."

At this, Pete interjected. "It doesn't tell you when she was there, Agent Gibbs. That doesn't prove anything. They were co-workers. It wouldn't be unusual for her to be at his apartment."

At this, the corners of Gibbs' mouth turned up slightly. "Do you usually leave by climbing down the fire escape?" He presented another crime scene photo, showing the open window and the prints on the sill.

Pete's heart sank. Everything was stacking up against his sister. He knew she was incapable of such a heinous crime, but he had no way to explain the mounting body of evidence being presented to them.

"Why don't I give you two a moment to re-think your story?" Gibbs gathered up the evidence, tucked it back into the folder, and calmly left the interrogation room, emerging a few seconds later in Observation. Tony shut off the speaker so the lawyer could speak in private with his client.

"Well, Boss, you've almost convinced me."

"Almost?" Bemused, Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. You made a great case in there." Both men turned and watched through the one-way glass as brother and sister commiserated. "But she didn't do it."

"I know." Gibbs was studying Louisa's body language carefully. He'd interviewed thousands of suspects in his time with NCIS, and he could tell the difference between the fear of being caught, and the fear of being framed. This was the latter.

DiNozzo gave a sideways glance at his superior, as relief flooded his consciousness. Gibbs had great instincts, just as Tony did. They were tempered by age and experience, but he relied heavily on them nonetheless. And it was reassuring to know that Gibbs' instincts were leading him to the same conclusion that Tony had reached almost 24 hours earlier.

"Then why'd you hit her so hard with the evidence?"

"Just wanted to see if anything would shake out. Something that might change my mind."

"So... what are you going to do?"

"We're already holding her on the national security charges. That'll buy us some time. As soon as Abby gets in tomorrow morning, have her go over all that crime-scene evidence again with a fine tooth comb. There must be something we're missing. And have Elf Lord look over the trace that Cyber Crimes ran – I'm not even convinced she sent that message."

Tony grinned from ear to ear. "Got it, Boss."

"And Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"After that, you're off this case."