Disclaimer: forgot it last time, but I don't own anything, sadly…

And as you might have noticed, English is not my first language. I do apologize for any mistakes, this is also my first Fanfic, I'm very excited about this story, so please let me know what you think.

Flashbacks are in italics.

Chapter 2: The board is set

Gibbs was standing in the elevator trying to figure out his agent's newest ordeal.

"Look boss, I will fill you in on everything considering the Peruch case, but right now I have to take care of some stuff at home. I'll be back in an hour, two hour tops, promise." Tony said and flipped the emergency stop, so they would continue their journey.

"One hour, DiNozzo and no excuses then or I'll put you in interrogation myself."

"As long as it is you and not Ziva I could live with that.", Tony answered with a weak smile. The sound of the elevator signaled his departure.

"And, Tony,", Gibbs yelled after a few seconds, when his agent hurried out in the direction of the parking lot, "Watch your six!"

"Will do, boss." Tony smiled back and nodded, before the closing doors pulled him out of sight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, guess what I've found." Abby rushed to meet him and took the CafPow he was holding out.

"Abs."

"Okay, you don't like to guess, but a girl has gotta try right? It's not like you couldn't surprise me, I mean you did grow a moustache I recall and…"

Gibbs just gave her a stare.

"Right, evidence. Well, I managed to locate our Petty Officer. He's still alive and breathing, although he won't be too happy about losing his tags. I'm still working on the DNA Ducky collected from under our dead guy's nails, but hey I'm not finished yet." She blabbed out when Gibbs was about to turn around and pulled him towards the large screen.

"I've managed to get a partial print of these tags, which is kinda weird when you think about it, because they were left there on purpose. And when I ran it through AFIS I got a hit. Tadaa, you see?"

The picture of a middle aged man appeared on screen.

"Who is he, Abs?"

"Rafael DeMarco, son of the late Vincenzo DeMarco, head of a drug trafficking family in Baltimore several years ago. He was sent to prison along with his father and brother, Arthuro for fraud, money laundering, tax evasion. And that were just the nicer things he did. He was believed to have threatened a dozen of people, but the charges never stuck."

"Why, hell of a lawyer?"

"Probably, he got released a few months ago, but mostly because none of the witnesses made it to court. They either washed up on shore or are still sleeping with the fishes as Tony would quote."

"Good job, Abs."

"McGee, were did Tony run off to?" Ziva asked, while leaning back in her chair.

"Don't know, Ziva, but he looked a bit preoccupied.", McGee replied.

Gibbs walked in the bullpen again. "Ziva, McGee, I want to know everything there is to know about Frank Millers, Rafael DeMarco and Nicholas Peruch. Abby should have send you her findings."

"What are we looking at, boss.", McGee asked.

"Dunno yet, McGee." He just hoped his gut was wrong. He took out his cell. No new messages. He sighted. You still have 43 minutes, DiNozzo, before I drag you back in here, he thought.

After ten minutes McGee rose from his desk and clicked at the screen.

"Rafael DeMarco, one of the heirs of a wealthy drug family before he was sent to prison with… Oh, Abby filled you in already.", McGee interrupted himself when Gibbs made no attempt to stand up.

"Well, let me continue, he was released four months ago under certain conditions. He must attend an anger management class every week, which he does and now he works as an accountant in Arlington, a few blocks from his two bedroom apartment. His bank account checks out. Nothing hinky turns up so far, boss." Gibbs looks attentively at the screen.

"Except that his fingerprint turned up on the dog tags next to our dead guy.", Gibbs retorted.

"Eh, well yes, what brings me to Nicolas Peruch. He was one of the DeMarco men but turned on his "family" so to speak.", McGee continued, imitating quotation marks with his fingers, "They weren't really related…"

"McGee!"

"Sor…, right boss, Peruch was brave, but foolish and had quite a record of his own. Apparently he struck a deal and he himself was sentenced to three months. It took just 23 days and two attempts before he was stabbed to death in Maryland House of Correction, this was in 1999. He wasn't married and had no living relatives."

"Ziva?" She was already standing next to him.

"Frank Millers, 37 years old, lived in Colesville. He wasn't reported missing because he - and I quote one of his neighbors – had a longstanding relationship with his Mac, so he didn't do well in sunshine. Me and McGee should check the place out, right?"

"In a minute, what else have you found?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, McGee should check out his webpage. Half the things there are encrypted or something."

"They are just digits, Ziva."

"McGee, numbers are codes, okay?", she replied, annoyed by his interruption.

"He went to school at Ohio State for a few years and switched jobs regularly after that, at the moment he was unemployed, relying on his financial skills, which were above average." She clicked at the screen again.

"His bank account learns us that he had steady incomes from large investments in several firms, here and in China."

"The shady types?", Gibbs asked.

"Maybe, but nothing really out of the ordinary."

"So, a member of a former drug family and a former office clerk with computer skills.", Gibbs muttered.

"You two, go to Millers house and try to find out when he disappeared."

"What about you, boss, Tony isn't back yet."

"Going to talk to DeMarco, I'll take Fornell with me. He owes me a few last time I counted."

He wasn't sure why he didn't tell them about the victims connection to Tony. Maybe he was toying with the idea of invoking rule #38 again. His gut told him his Senior Agent would be up for the task.

Tony was worried. The name Peruch, jogged some memories but the details were a bit foggy. Not surprisingly, it was almost nine years ago, back in his first Baltimore days, that he heard that name.

"You think you can do this, kid, of the record?" His captain was facing the window, anticipating the answer. "Because you can still back out of it, you know."

"I'm sure, captain, wouldn't know if I could live with myself if I did."

"Good, because we are counting on you. Now listen closely, this man,", he turned around and opened a file revealing a picture of a young man, "is Nicolas Peruch, a low life crook but apparently DeMarco's new golden boy. You get close to him, you get close to DeMarco, got it?"

To catch Franks killer he would have to get the files of the DeMarco case. He was beyond doubt about their involvement. Luckily he had other reasons to keep those files close by or he would have been forced to drive to Baltimore to get the copies. And lacking Gibbs' driving skills, he wouldn't be back within the hour.

Just before he entered his street he sifted through his contact list and send a message. Neglecting the rear mirror for a few moments, he didn't spot the black car that turned around the corner.