Leroy Jethro Gibbs: Vampire Hunter
Written for the NFA Supernatural Challenge, Death Fic Challenge, and Vengeance Challenge
Chapter 4 of 6
Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda, yadda; see previous chapter.
Part III - Agent
I've been an agent for six months, now. Working with Mike as my official boss has been interesting, to say the least. He has rules he expects me to learn (and I've added a few of my own), and when I screw up I get a whack on the back of the head. I finally got the nerve to ask him why, and he said "it's a wake-up call". I think it's a reminder of what he could do to me, or what another of his kind could do if they catch on to what we've been doing. Those slaps are nothing compared to what he could do during a fight. One blow from him in full vamp mode can take another vamp's head off, and I've seen him do it. The smacks I get serve another purpose: a gentle reminder of who is the boss, and who is the "Probie".
I almost forget what he is sometimes because he has taken this "undercover" assignment seriously and no one even suspects that he isn't human. He has taught me a lot, although I really wish I could do more than just "schlep" equipment. I observe as I work, and I see how an investigation should be run. I'm also learning a lot more about our common enemy.
The drug cartels are just some of the groups being manipulated by vampires. Other areas of organized crime, from the mob to the gangs receive support and funding, although at first I couldn't understand why.
"This doesn't make sense, Mike. Why would vamps be helping criminals who aren't directly helping their cash flow?"
"Fear, Probie. People who are afraid are easier to manipulate. They make bad decisions and that sends them down the path to exploitation. Vice means more crime, more dead bodies, more people who won't be missed. It's a vicious cycle and vamps thrive on it."
We're only a small part of the force working to stop that cycle, even though most don't realize who, or what, they're really fighting. It's frustrating, but we keep at it, one crime at a time. In addition to the investigation, sometimes the crimes lead to clues about who is involved, and helps us track the major players and their sources of income. Maybe one day we'll connect all the dots and take down the whole network. Someday.
After hours, there's the hunt. I understand that killing the vamps that are making the mistake of letting themselves be known only takes care of part of the problem, but it's better than nothing.
Sometimes Mark joins us, even though I think it's a bad idea. He has two kids and I worry about them. I know what it's like to lose a parent to these bastards, but I haven't been able to get him to quit.
"What's the point of staying out of the hunt if it increases the chance of my kids falling prey to one I didn't kill?", he said, the last time I tried to get him to stay home. He's stubborn, but he has a point. Those of us who know the danger do need to protect the innocents. And I admit, it's nice to know a human has my back on these hunts sometimes.
XXX
Tim rubbed a weary hand over his eyes as he felt an old yet familiar twist of anger in his gut. He has always wished, growing up, that his father could be home more often, and a small part of him had hated his Dad's job for keeping the man from his family. Now he was learning there was something else that had kept Mark McGee away, and he wasn't certain how he felt about that.
His father had been dedicated and stubborn, it was true, and Tim had always attributed it partially to his father's military training. He also knew that his father believed that he was truly protecting his family and his country through his work in the Navy. It was still strange to think he had been protecting them in other ways as well. Tim almost wished that he could have hated Gibbs for bringing his father into the hunt, but he couldn't. Gibbs hadn't meant for it to happen, and had tried to discourage it, that much was obvious. The real reason why Tim couldn't be angry was because he now understood, more than he had ever suspected he could, what motivated the man. And last but not least, he realized that Gibbs had been looking out for one of his team for a very long time.
Tim opened the journal again and continued to read, occasionally smiling at the commentary which sounded so different yet so similar to the man he had known. He could see the change in the man over time, from the bitter former Marine to unsure civilian to seasoned investigator. He also noticed that there were more entries dealing with information on victims of the vampires and their families, as if he hoped by recording their names, they wouldn't be forgotten. There was information on the criminal network as well, connections that would have taken years to track down were now recorded in one place. Tim wondered if this was what Gibbs wanted him to use wisely.
He went to his computer and started to record the information, to put it in a form he understood. He just hoped for a final clue of what to do with it. After he had finished the first section, he resumed his reading, and encountered the answer to another question.
XXX
Khobar Towers. I doubt many people will remember it, since it didn't happen on American soil, but it was an important event at least for Mike, and by extension, for me.
In addition to our criminal investigations, Mike and I had become part of a system that was adept at collecting intelligence information regarding terrorist activity. Me, through military connections, and Mike through his "old friends" who kept an eye on the activities of those we hunted, were able to provide assistance, although we kept a lid on some of the more unconventional motives. Unfortunately, sometimes the Brass didn't want to listen, especially when it doesn't fit the political climate of the day.
We had fair warning of the attack, over six months prior, but somewhere the wires got crossed. After we heard the news, Mike went ballistic. I had never seen him like that, and for the first time since we had met, I was afraid of him.
"What the hell is the point of risking my neck and trying to help when those idiots in charge don't want to believe something that is obvious? How would we ever make them believe the threat we've been dealing with? I can't help those who willing walk into the slaughterhouse!"
He never looked less human and I was glad we were alone. I knew he wouldn't attack me, but someone else might not have been so lucky. The worst part was that I understood his point, but I still thought what we were doing was worth while. I told him we still had a chance to help and he brushed me off.
"I quit. I'll go back to doing things my way. I'll save the ones who deserve it."
"You're a judge of that now, are you?" I asked, and for a minute I was worried I had gone too far. He just stared at me for what seemed like eternity before he just turned away from me and started to clear out his office.
"Mike, I…"
"Never apologize, Probie. It's a sign of weakness." He turned back to me. "Maybe one day you'll understand. Until then, try to do what you know is right. Hopefully someone will catch on. I doubt it, though." He handed me his gun and badge, picked up his box of belongings, and started to walk out the door.
"Wait. I might need to contact you. How-?"
"Check with personnel. I'll leave an address. They'll need somewhere to send my pension checks, right?" He grinned, but there was no humor in it.
"Right. And uh, Mike? Thanks for…you know."
"See ya around, Probie."
He left, and I wasn't sure I'd ever see him again.
The next day I got the paperwork for a transfer to the DC office, at the Navy Yard. I had been there before, as a TAD, on a case involving a serial killer named Kyle Boone. He was my first real exposure to a human monster. That case cost me more than I had expected, but during my time at DC I gained a friend, although I didn't expect him to be one at first.
Donald Mallard, "Ducky" to his friends, is unlike anyone I have met before. He has a story for everything, and the ability to relate even the most gruesome cases to something lighthearted. I have to admit, I envy it. I have a few tales of my own, but I can never really share them with anyone, especially not with a very eccentric medical examiner. I just listen, and he seems to appreciate that, but I have another motive: I am wondering if he knows about vampires. I am not looking for a hunting partner (although I think Mark would be willing to help if he was ever in the area), but I would like someone to bounce ideas off of. If he does know, he isn't forthcoming, and I'm not about to ask outright. In the mean time, I've decided he would be a friend worth having. If nothing else, he can keep my mind off of the stuff I didn't really need to think about. Maybe one day I'll tell him about it.
XXX
Tim couldn't help but smile at the image of those conversations. He had often wondered how the two had met and become friends. He sobered quickly, however, when he remembered what Ducky would no doubt have to do in the near future. He wouldn't have wished that task on anyone.
Tim turned his attention back to the journal and was surprised to find a gap in the information. Gibbs hadn't kept the journal up to date for a couple of years, and the regularity of entries decreased, except for the lists: those remained, and Tim copied the information as he continued to read.
XXX
I haven't written in this book in a while, but the job has kept me busier than I expected. DC is very different than Camp Pendleton. We're closer to the politicians here, and there are more chances for undercover and "special assignments". I've avoided those so far, other than a short stint as Agent Afloat, something I hope to avoid in the future. I'm still tracking and hunting, but it's harder now. I'm getting older, and I don't have the talent or patience to deal with the new technology. I guess one day soon I'm going to have to learn. Maybe I can get the new forensic scientist to help, she seems to be pretty good with that stuff. She's on the strange side, though. I'm not sure how a "Goth" and an old Marine will get along.
I'm also busy with my own team, now. I'm not used to being the boss, so that has taken some getting used to. My "senior" field agent is good but he still needs some work. We're a two-man operation, except when there's a body and Ducky joins us. Sometimes I wish it was just me and Mike again. It's been years, but old habits die hard.
xxx
I've been assigned to the office in Paris and assigned a new partner: Jenny Shepard. Some, kid, not long out of college, ambitious as hell but occasionally lacking sense. She's a quick study, but I get the feeling she's hiding something. She's pretty aggressive, too. I think I may have to watch my step with her. I already have two ex-wives. I don't need a third.
I actually heard from Mike, first time in years. He sent me a post card saying he'd warn the "Old Guard" that I'd be there and might need some help. I'm almost afraid to ask what that means. It looks like I'm going to have to adapt to hunting in a new environment.
xxx
I'm finally back in the States, hopefully for good. Paris, Serbia, and then Moscow: I fell for someone I shouldn't, got shot, got arrested, got backstabbed by my "partner", barely made it out of an op alive, got sent to a new office, got married again, and divorced again. Sometimes I think vamps are the least of my worries.
I've been given the MCRT team, with new agents, but Ducky and Abby are still around. It's nice to see something constant for a change. I'm back to hunting and tracking again, too. Things are getting worse in that area: more crime, more violence, and the number of missing people continues to climb. Sometimes I think it's a lost cause, but then I remember there are people, innocents, that need protecting, and still I keep on hunting. I still hear from Mark but he talks more about his kids now than the vamps. I'm glad to see he's learned to appreciate what he has, but at the same time I hate hearing about it, and then I hate myself. He's lucky, I'm not. Guess I should face that and move on.
xxx
I'm getting a new team member. Stan is being reassigned as an Agent Afloat and the Director told me to find a replacement. The only one that even comes close to being worth the effort of training a new guy is some smart-ass Baltimore detective. I met him before, when we had a case overlap, and I could deal with him then. Most of the time he knew when to listen, and he was useful when we made the final bust. He's got good instincts but he's cocky, and needs to be taken down a peg. I think I could make a decent investigator out of him if a take a few pages out of the boot camp training book and add a few of Mike's "wake up calls". We'll see.
xxx
Our case load is increasing, and that means a new agent position has been added to the team. I was dreading the process, but it looks like luck turned my way for once. The Secret Service's loss is our gain. Special Agent Caitlin Todd: she's smart, capable, and is almost the polar opposite of DiNozzo, all points in her favor. She's tough enough to stand up to me, but she's been able to keep a hold of some of her humanity, a rare quality in this job. I can work with her, I just hope she can work with us.
XXX
Tim paused to close his eyes against the sudden stinging he felt. Even after these years, it still hurt to think of Kate. He remembered how she had often acted as a buffer for him against Gibbs and DiNozzo (although she wasn't above a little hazing) and how she had tried to help him become a better agent. Her death had been the first major shock to him after he joined the agency, and he remembered how bad it had been for all of them during the aftermath.
He was sure there would be more about her in the journal and he tried to prepare himself for it. The next entry, however, pushed the thought (at least temporarily) from his mind.
XXX
I finally met Mark's son, in the place I least expected. We were investigating a case at Norfolk, and the name of the case agent who contacted us barely made a blip on my radar. I thought he looked a bit familiar (or from what I could see behind the mask he wore at the scene) but it still didn't register until he stood up to me when I asked if he thought I could be difficult, and that's when it hit me. He looked exactly like Mark had all those years ago after I saved him from that vamp.
I still couldn't believe that a kid with the education he had would be in a job like this. I checked into it, and sure enough he was who I thought he was. I had to call Mark to ask him why his son had joined NCIS instead of taking some cushy and safe job like his father had wanted him to do.
"I couldn't stop him, Jethro. He got it into his head that he wanted to be a Navy cop. Before we even knew that he had applied he was off to FLETC, and said it was something he had to do. He thought his background would help. Hell, everything is 'computer this' and 'computer that' these days, maybe he can." I heard him sigh and I could almost picture the look on his face. "I just hope he can stay out of trouble."
"I want him on my team," I said, surprising myself.
"Why?"
"Because he's got guts. Just like his old man."
"No, Gibbs, damn it! Trouble follows you and he doesn't need that. I don't want him to do what I…what we did for so many years."
"I wasn't planning on asking him to join the hunt, Mark. I figured I could keep an eye on him for you."
He sighed again and then swore.
"Or I can leave him down at Norfolk and he can waste those talents that you've been telling me about for years."
"If he was someone else's son, what would you do?"
"Same thing I'm doing now."
"Why don't I believe that?"
"Since when did you become such a cynic, Mark?"
"Spent too much time around you, Jethro."
"Probably." I heard him let out a bark of laughter and when he spoke again he sounded a little more relaxed.
"Alright. You do what you think you should. You would anyway. Just…don't let him do anything crazy, OK?"
"If he's anything like his father, I don't think I could stop him."
"Yeah, you're probably right.
I went to the director the next day and set things in motion. I just hope I can do right by both father and son.
XXX
"What changed?" asked Tim aloud. "What made Gibbs want me to be part of all this?"
He knew he couldn't ask his own father: Mark McGee had died two years ago. The only way he would find out was from Gibbs' writings. He started to read faster, skimming through Gibbs' descriptions of various cases, some of which Tim remembered during his time as a TAD with Gibbs' team. Then, the case that had landed him on Gibbs' term permanently, and he was surprised to see Gibbs' mention how proud he had been. He continued to read, up to the part he had recently been dreading, and paused to brace himself to relieve those memories. Gibbs' anger came through in his written words just as it had in person. Tim was startled to see that Gibbs' initially believed that Ari Haswari had been working for a very different sort of threat, and in that he understood a little more of how Gibbs had acted back then.
More pages, more cases described, and more details on the work he had been doing to track threats, from both humans and vampires. Tim continued to enter the information, wondering if all of his efforts would just be a useless exercise. Reading Gibbs own frustrations didn't help.
XXX.
I finally understand why Mike left. Why are we trying to save people who are so willing to sacrifice others just to save face? I quit NCIS, tracked down Mike, and went back to hunting on my own terms. I wasn't ever going to go back. Even when Ziva called, and I had to help, I hadn't planned to stay. Then Fornell asked for my help, and I realized I couldn't stay away. The people I knew needed me. It was still my job.
XXX
"Really glad you came back, Boss," said Tim as he continued to read. He wasn't sure how some of things that happened after Gibbs came back would have played out without him there to put out the fires. Tim had to chuckle a couple of times during the narrative as he remembered how happy they had all been, even though one of the team was keeping secrets from the rest. He sobered when he remembered some of the more dangerous moments, one in particular that could have gone very badly for Ducky, and when he reached that part in the memoir he paused. Just when he thought nothing else could surprise him…
XXX
There's a vampire working for the CIA. Somehow I'm not surprised.
I found this out when we were chasing La Grenouille, arms dealer. Apparently he was being handled by the CIA to help them keep track of other arms dealers. This should not have come to much of a surprise to anyone except Jenny. She was obsessed with catching "The Frog" and I could tell it was personal. I know that look, I've worn it myself. She's not letting on what it's about, but I can guess. Scuttlebutt said that her father, Jasper Sheppard, committed suicide while he was being investigated for his part in some missing shipments of firearms. She doesn't believe it was a suicide and was looking for answers which caused her to lose sight of the big picture, mainly the safety of her agents.
We went all the way to Canada to find this guy, and almost had him when she was called off by the CIA. The handler, Trent Kort, was posing as La Grenouille's right hand man. I was the only one who noticed that he wasn't human.
I tried to discourage her from any more attempts, but I didn't realize just how deep her obsession went. In the meantime, I managed to track Kort down and follow him, hoping to get some answers, mainly why she had put the agency at such a risk. It didn't quite go like I expected. When I caught up to him, instead of attacking he just smirked.
"I see that Mike has taught you well, but I think you're getting a little old for the hunt, Jethro. If I had wanted to kill you, you would have been dead by now."
"You know Mike?"
"Yes, we are both part of the same…select little group, trying to keep the more conservative of our brethren from enslaving you humans as they wish to. They're expanding their reach to include all sorts of new opportunities for mayhem. I'm helping to control it a bit, under the auspices of the CIA."
"How much do they know?"
"About us? Nothing, and personally I'd prefer to keep it that way. I rather like this job. It has perks."
"I'll bet."
"Enough small talk. You have questions?"
"Yeah. Who killed Jasper Shepard?"
"Jasper Shepard. Unfortunate, I assure you."
"You're telling me it was really a suicide? That Jenny did all of this for nothing?"
"Afraid so."
"So what's your real part in all of this?"
"Just trying to keep those who should be in the dark, in the dark."
"And that includes Jenny."
"And others. Better than the truth, trust me."
I couldn't argue. Finally he let me go, with a warning to steer clear of The Frog.
I tried to convince Jenny to drop her vendetta against the arms dealer. I hadn't realized just how deep her obsession went, or what she had already done. I found out when she almost got my agent killed.
It looked like the issue was finally settled when Rene Benoit disappeared from the radar, but no such luck. Turns out he had been murdered. The FBI put us under investigation, and Kort had to show up to give a cover story. As he was leaving, I asked him again who had killed Jenny's father.
"Same answer I gave you last time."
"Now why don't I believe you? His fingerprints were on that glass, Abby said they were recent. You want to tell me how that's possible if he's dead?"
He smirked. "The same way it's possible for me to leave fingerprints."
"What?"
"Yes, Shepard shot himself. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't immediately fatal, and some of my friends can be very persuasive, even enough to convince the Army M.E. to fake an autopsy report."
"So they-?"
"They turned him, yes. He was spending his time helping our group. Regrettably those on the other side decided to use him against your Director. They captured him and planted his prints in order to leave them in Jenny's study. We managed to get him back, but the damage was done. They wanted to destabilize her and the agency. It almost worked."
"Why go after NCIS?"
"Simple. One less threat. Time will tell if it eventually pays off."
"Damn it."
"I agree. I don't envy the hand you will be dealt in the next few months. It might be time to consider retirement again."
I let him go and went back to try and talk some sense into Jenny. It didn't work. She couldn't see what damage had been done. To be honest, I didn't see the full extent, either.
xxx
I lost a friend this week, and I can't even mention it. I can't even tell his son how much I am sorry for his loss. Mark McGee was a good man. I never expected to lose him to something so simple as a car accident. Hit and run, probably drunk, or at least that's what the report says. Tim tried to be stoic when he requested the time off, and I didn't push him. I even tried to keep DiNozzo at bay. It was the least I could do.
Rest in peace, Mark. I'll miss you.
xxx
I'm tired of losing people.
Jenny's gone, gunned down in a crappy diner out in the California desert. She left her protection detail behind and decided to handle it herself to protect me. I just wish she had told me, I could have helped. The target she was supposed to take out all those years ago and didn't, one of three targets we were after as part of an op. Maybe Mike was right, I shouldn't have trusted her to take care of her target, but she never gave me any doubts back then. I should have checked.
Tony and Ziva are tearing themselves up over it, but it's not their fault. I wish there was some way to tell them that. I have told them, but they won't believe it. The whole thing was a set-up. They took her out to get to me.
Now my team, the only real family I have, had been scattered. I guess I should count myself lucky I still have a job.
I will get them all back. To hell with Vance and his punishment. It may take time, but I will get them all back together, and not just for Abby. For me.
XXX
Keeping one finger in the book to mark the page, Tim closed it and slumped back in his chair. It was getting harder and harder to keep reading. Each terrible memory from the last few years caused a surge of anguish when it was invoked by the words in Gibbs' journal. The memory of the loss of his father had been particularly bad, especially considering what he now knew about the secrets his father had kept.
Finally, after the pain had stared to fade, he opened the book yet again. He braced himself and started to read, through the reunion of the team, the various cases that followed, including the discovery of a traitor and loss of more agents, and finally the events that had caused such a schism between teammates that the team was broken once again. He read through Gibbs reaction to the loss and then recovery of Ziva, the tension that followed her return, and the new problems caused by Bell, Riviera, and the Reynosa Cartel, including Gibbs' time in Mexico. It was there that he learned something he hadn't even suspected at the time.
XXX
Someone tried to set me up for Pedro Hernandez's murder, and then used that set up to have members of his family target me and everyone important to me. It was almost perfect, how they framed me. I don't even now how they managed to do it, but they were thorough. The vamps have a greater influence on the cartels than we previously expected, and in fact some are willingly working for them. I can't say I have much pity for those people, but I'm sure they aren't aware of what is really at stake.
I also found out, while I was they guest of the cartel, that they're planning something big. I only got hints, but the fact that members of several cartels are working together does not bode well at all. Part of that plan is that they are targeting hunters, something that has apparently been going on for a few years.
Reynosa admitted the plan to me, if only to cause me more pain. Her brother kept her from killing me, only because he was worried more about the attention my death would receive.
And then the vamp in charge showed up to twist the knife a little bit more.
"We used to think you hunters were little more than a nuisance, but then you joined the game. Now it's time to eliminate the nuisance. We've been picking off hunters one by one so as not to draw attention to what we've been doing, and normally this would be too much of an opportunity to miss, but in the long run it would cause too much trouble," he told me. "Better it happens on neutral ground, and looks like an accident. Say, a hit and run. That worked quite well for your old friend."
"What old friend?" I asked, although I was afraid I already knew.
"I'll give you a hint: it was almost two years ago."
Then I knew for certain. Those bastards were responsible for Mark's death.
XXX
Tim felt bile rise in his throat and he almost threw the book across the room as he felt a surge of anger unlike anything he had felt before. He could fully understand Gibbs' rage now.
"I'm in, Boss. Whatever you need me to do, I'm in."
XXX
Ever since I got back from Mexico, I've been working on figuring out the big plan. I've got the major players all lined up, I know who holds the financial strings to most of their activities, and I have suspicions as to their plan, but I need someone who can sort through the information and make the connections concrete. Then, I need to track them down and disrupt their networks, isolate them, leave them powerless and penniless. I found out how much they rely on money now. It funds their networks, and their hold over certain politicians, people who are in power to make laws to benefit them and make their activities more profitable, but I still sense there's something more.
I've narrowed down the location of the major hub of operations. It's somewhere in the D.C. area, but that's as far as I could get with my skill set. I need to fit in the final pieces of the puzzle, and something tells me I'm running out of time. I'm going to have to ask for help.
I think it may be time to break my promise to Mark.
XXX
Tim turned to the next page and was surprised to see it was blank. There were no more entries, but when he looked at the final page he found, much to his surprise, an envelope, containing a CD, taped to the page. He hadn't even suspect Gibbs' would keep some of the information this way, and wondered how close he had been to asking for his junior agent's help.
He put the CD into his computer and starting pulling up his own notes. As he scanned through, he started to see connections, avenues of investigation that he could pursue. He was pretty sure—
"So can you do it, McGee?"
He didn't even jump this time.
"Yeah, Mike, I think I can. I'm not sure how long it will take, but-."
"I'm afraid we don't have much time. Jethro's death has sped up the time table, according to some of the chatter. Whatever they're doing, it's going to happen soon."
"How soon?"
"A couple of days, maybe."
Tim's heart sank. "I…I don't know if I can…"
"Would Gibbs have accepted that?"
"No. No, he wouldn't. I'm guessing you won't either."
"Nope."
Tim sighed. He could almost picture Gibbs' face as he demanded the impossible, time and time again. The image soon switched to his father, pushing his son to do more than expected, something that had served him well at NCIS. He owed both men so much…"
"OK. I'll do it. What will we do when I-?"
"Leave that up to me. Looks like you better get started, kid. I need to go. You OK?"
"I…yeah, I'm OK." He turned back to his computer and started to type, barely noticing when Mike left. He was focused, and he had a goal.
I won't let you down.