I lovee Christmas Break! Merry Christmas everybody!
Thanks to my awesome reviewers, one of whom is my BEST FRIEND EVER, missy CJ or clover janks as she likes to be called…striker and clover are one hottt duo!
*Clover at her house 25 miles from Striker's* I hear that bro.
Me: lfT wooF
Clover: WHAT?
Me: Oops, sorry, AIN'T HOES joke.
Clover: *SHINY OBJECT* …
Me: Yo, clov, you there?
Clover: PUPPIESSSSS!
Me: I'll take that as a no.
Well, sorry, I got kind of off track there, didn't I? THANKS:
smush68
1Styx and Stones1
AngieFaye76
aoki-reiko
psych-out-girl (Ps: I LOVEE PSYCH!)
You all totally make the super hot category with Clover and I.
Snapshot: A woman curled up against the wall of a dark, damp space.
"Got anything for me yet, Duck?"
The placid Doctor Mallard looked up from the woman he had been working on and nodded at Gibbs, "I do indeed Jethro, nothing too complicated today."
Gibbs urged the doctor on with a nod, vaguely registering the fact that Palmer was slipping out of the doors behind him. He couldn't understand why that kid was so terrified of him.
"The corporal was in very good health, if she wasn't dead now I'd say she would have probably lived another forty five years quite easily…but alas, "Cowards die many times before their deaths;the valiant never taste of death but once.Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,it seems to me most strange that men should fear;seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come." As the great William Shakespeare said…but listen to me prattle on so. Death occurred around six P.M. She was stabbed once in the back, severing not only her spinal cord but several major arteries. Death was instantaneous."
"Tell me more about the weapon," Gibbs 'asked'.
"It was a smooth-edged blade approximately six inches long and two inches wide, very sharp. I sent the exact measurements up to Abigail. She should have some results in an hour or so."
With barely a nod, Gibbs stalked from Autopsy cursing the hands of time.
Gibbs disappeared from the bull pen for maybe ten minutes and when he returned, he was shocked…and rightly so. That short Mexican, the one Jenny had sent, was standing on the desk observing the computer screen below her with interest…and all she was wearing was a cut up CIA t-shirt and very short shorts, and while the view was good, it was also slightly unnerving.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Rodríguez shrugged and hopped, "Getting a new angle on the map of the house."
"Do I even want to ask about your clothes, or lack thereof?"
"I had major pit stains, so I took off a few layers."
"She does this all the time," her partner called from where he was sitting (thankfully fully clothed), "and trust me when I say that this is a lot better than if she was whining about her clothing choices."
Still looking shell-shocked, Gibbs wished he hadn't sent Tony home, "Well, since you apparently don't have anything better to do than strip, you had better have some results."
Hunter Allen nodded, and with several more clicks then it would have taken McGee, he pulled up a timeline, "From what we pieced together, the Corporal left her house at exactly twelve forty-three according to the cameras outside her apartment building. She headed south and walked for approximately nineteen minutes before she was picked up by an ATM camera-"
"Where she retrieved two hundred dollars from her voluminous bank account," Rodríguez interjected.
"-which has a balance of nearly seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Hunter finished. Scrolling down a bit, he continued, "At one twenty-five she arrived at Excess Eddie's Grocery store where she bought all the things that were found on her person, nine rolls of paper towels, seven boxes of Ramen Noodles, five boxes of generic cereal, a box of band-aids, and some, err, feminine products," Hunter blushed to the roots of his bright orange hair, but no one else seemed particularly offended.
"So where was she between then and when she was killed?" Gibbs asked.
"She arrived back home at two thirty in the afternoon and didn't leave there again until four fifteen, when she picked up her car and drove out to Carolina County. The last time she was seen alive was at four fifty when she stopped at a gas station outside of D.C," Rodríguez said, plopping down on the edge of Tony's desk.
Agent Allen spoke again, apparently recovered from the whole 'feminine product' thing, "Incidentally, her 2007 silver Honda Civic has not been located."
"BOLO?" a voice asked from the elevator.
All eyes turned to see the return of Agent DiNozzo, "And can I ask why you are sitting on my desk?" Tony asked looking at the two agents he had been briefly introduced to.
Rodríguez shrugged, "I'm just sitting here, you got a problem with that?"
Tony's face was a mix of being totally turned on by the fact that there was a half naked girl sitting on his desk and slightly taken aback at her. Tossing his stuff down, he shrugged, "Nope…but what about the BOLO?"
"It's out," Allen confirmed.
Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and looked between his three agents. Taking a deep breath, he formulated a plan, "Allen, see what you can do about the Corporal's computer, take it to Abby if things get to complicated, we're going to need you later-"
"Yes, sir."
"-DiNozzo, see what you can do about starting the search party up again, organization would be great this time…and Rodríguez you go with him. Take the maps and try and go with the chopper and take another look at the land from the air-"
"What about the mine shafts?" Rodríguez interrupted.
"I'll send a couple teams down there," Tony replied, picking up the stuff that he had just dropped…as well as grabbing his razor and fresh shirt from his filing cabinet.
"Okey-dokey," Rodríguez nodded and hopped from the desk.
Leaning down to get her bag gave Gibbs a view that he didn't necessarily need, "And for God's sake, put some real clothes on!" he called at her retreating back.
"On it!"
Gibbs glanced at his watch to see that it was, cringing at the fact it was just midnight. He hoped it had finally stopped raining.
Ziva's memories were coming back to her in short, painful flashes. She remembered the house; the one Tony had called 'Psycho'. Then she saw the man firing at her from behind a rock of some sort…and she remembered how the gunmen had began to take flight and she had shouted into her comms unit, and then started after him. She only made it a step before a bullet had grazed her abdomen, stopping her for a second before her Mossad instincts had kicked in (without her permission) and she had been off running again; it was just a flesh wound.
After that was kind of a blur. From the stiffness in her limbs, she had sustained some other sort of injuries, none of which had proved to be life threatening…as of yet. Her state of mind was normal enough for her to feel the urgent sense to find her way back to her team, back home.
Slowly, so slowly, she pulled herself into a sitting position, her keen senses picking up that there was no one else around. Standing took a lot of energy, but ten minutes later she stood swaying in the inky blackness of her prison.
Where ever she was, it was damp, eerily silent, and darker than what she imagined the pits of hell to be like. Gingerly taking a step, she felt around for a solid thirty minutes to find the wall, wearing herself out, but she didn't stop.
Taking a deep breath, she began walking, all the while keeping her left hand on the wall. Five hundred and seventy two steps later, it seemed like she hadn't moved at all.
Panting and cursing in every language, Ziva sunk to the floor in a pitiful heap, where she attempted to ignore the fact that she couldn't go another step. Falling into a restless, fever induced sleep, Ziva would have sworn at that moment the walls and floor around her were trembling as though they too were about to collapse under her strain.
Snapshot: A woman curled up against the wall of a dark, damp space.
So, will you give a review…'cause if I get a whole bunch I will be a TON more likely to update three times over Christmas Break instead of two!
~Lots of Love,
AGENT STRIKER