Southeaster
They drove south on the I-395 all the way to the Springfield junction, stopping at the first gas station on I-95. In it, they stopped the cars so Sarah could change cars and so McGee could sit in the front. Matthew collected the duffel bag from Temp's trunk and put it alongside the others in Joy's car trunk. He closed the trunk, and was attacked by a fierce hug from his littlest sister.
"You call when you get to Johnny's, ok?" Temp said, against his neck.
"I will," says Matt. They step apart, and they see that the McGees are watching them say goodbye.
Temp goes to the McGees and gives both siblings fierce hugs, and after reassurances that they would take care, she hopped in her own car, and went to the highway to start her return to D.C.
Matt turns to the McGees, and nods when he sees McGee's hand over his sister's shoulders, protectively. He starts walking towards the driver's seat again, and he has his way blocked by Tim.
"I'm driving," he says, and stretches out his hand, silently asks for the keys.
Matthew shakes his head, and says, "no, I'm driving."
"Listen, Matthew, I know we have our differences but I know the way to Norfolk better," insists Tim.
"No, you listen, Tim," says Matthew, totally serious, and looks Timothy in the eye, "I know you have no reason to trust me, or even like me, but, Sarah is scared, man," he glances at Sarah, who has her arms folded around herself, "and I thought you would prefer to sit with her in the back," Timothy sees no arrogance, just sincere concern for his little sister in Joy's little brother's face, "I know I would."
They study each other for a while, then McGee nods, and returns to his sister's side, and opens the door for her in the backseat. Once she's already sitting inside, he closes the door, goes around and sits on the other side, also in the backseat.
Once both McGees are on sitting on the backseat, Matthew goes to the driver seat, opens his own door, but he does his best to erase the smile from his face before entering the car.
NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS
Commander McGee was in his hotel room, watching the skirt his son was sniffing speaking on the television, about the right of the living to heal and to mourn their dead without the constant torture of the press, when he received the phone call he was expecting.
After the usual greetings both men went straight to business.
"Hey Mike, what did you come up with?" says Kieran, frowning at the brunette talking confidently in front of the cameras.
"It's a pretty interesting bunch of people your son got mixed up with," says Michael 'Mike' Murdock, well known mafia don and leader of one of the most powerful armed gangs in the greater New York area. He was rumored to have connections even in the DA's office, and has remained unscathed through various investigations both by the NYPD as well as the FBI. And apparently, he also had connections in the navy through one Commander McGee.
"An ex-marine, an ex-cop, a Mossad assassin, your geeky son and an ex FBI," says Mike, leaning back on his leather chair on his penthouse in NY.
"What can you tell me about them? What did you find?"
"My boys sniffed around, and what is more interesting is what they didn't find," says Mike.
"What do you mean?"
"The boss is the silent tough guy type, who rules over his agents as if they were a marine unit; exemplary records, receiver of one purple heart, has three ex-wives," both men laugh, as they also had to deal with exes, "he's a tough nut to crack, word on the street is that he's incorruptible."
"No one is incorruptible," says Kieran, "you taught me that."
Mike nods, even though Kieran can't see him, "yes, indeed."
"Any dirt we can use?"
"None that my boys could find," Mike said, and whenever he said his boys he meant his professional black hats, hackers who were hired specifically to dissect his targets' pasts and lives so he could manipulate them later on, "however, there are several gaps in his file, other parts are confidential, so we haven't been able to see it yet."
Kieran smiled, "yet?"
Mike smiles, "yet, we just have to keep digging."
"What about the others?"
"The ex-cop is a player, a grown-up frat boy, womanizer, we could easily trap him in a scandal as long as we use a pretty girl as bait; the Mossad one is interesting, just applied for American citizenship, but my boys are having a hard time sniffing around her file, the Israeli protect their own very carefully. But she is an assassin, so there is blood on her hands, we just have to know where to look."
"What about the Latina?" Kieran turns to the TV, and they are reprising Joy's interview. Again.
"Well," Mike laughs, "that's one interesting puppy," says Mike.
"why do you say that?"
"Because besides her name, and where she currently works, my boys couldn't find anything about her," says Mike.
"I don't understand, I thought you said your boys are the best…" says Kieran, just to be interrupted by Mike.
"My boys are the best, but you do not fully understand, Kieran," says Mike, "the moment my boys started to search for her file, alarm bells started ringing." Kieran stares at the TV, still showing the press conference.
"That woman's file has more levels of encryption than James Hoffa's, and my boys had to completely disconnect themselves from the web to avoid detections, as they were literally chased out of the servers."
"So she's hot goods," says Kieran with a broad smile.
"Yes," says Mike, looking at the skyline of NY from his ceiling to floor windows, "she's hot goods."
NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS
Meanwhile, in the bowels of the Pentagon…
A junior Aide was running, not walking, towards the second sublevel office at the end of the corridor. He had a very sensitive matter on the folder he held tightly against his chest. Once he reached the marked door, he entered the office, and walked straight to the secretary.
"Is he in?" The secretary barely had the time to nod, before the aide ran to the door and entered unannounced.
"Sir?" said the Aide, shaking on his feet, but the information he had in his hand was too important to care for formalities, and the General wasn't a formal man by nature.
"What? Can't you see I'm busy?" The white haired man looks up from his newspaper, where he was struggling with the daily crosswords.
"Sir, he just entered unannounced," babbles the secretary, but the General looked at the aide, and saw barely contained panic on his eyes.
He leans back on his chair, "it's ok, go…" she starts to leave, "better yet, leave for an early lunch, take your time, and lock the door of the office when you leave." She nods, and leaves the Aide with the General.
Once they are alone, the General stared at the Aide, making him sweat.
"What is so important that you had to bother me, airman?"
The aide approaches the desk, and gives him the file.
"Dr. Buchanan from our Nevada base requested us to register any attempts to read or access some flagged down files, and to report if any of those accesses represented any danger to the people she had flagged down or for our project."
The General starts looking at the file, and mutters, "and?"
"Today, exactly 10:56 am local time, we had an invasion attempt sir. It was insidious, insistent, and very targeted."
"Did they access anything?"
"No, sir, we were able to stop them and counterattack, but they were very specific in their search sir."
"What they were looking for?"
The aide takes another step, and points to the file in his hand, "may I, sir?"
The General puts the file on the desk, and the aide starts ruffling the pages, until he arrives to one and points to a line on the paper.
The General starts sputtering and cursing fluently in several languages.
"Have you contacted anyone in the Mountain yet?"
"They are still on lockdown, until the threat is fully exterminated."
"Have you shown this to anyone? Besides me?"
"No sir, as soon as we verified the origin of the attack, I came looking for you immediately."
"Hot damn, Maggie will go ballistic about this," he shakes his head, and stands up, "send a marine squad, small, no more than ten men, to NY and eliminate the threat, from the bud, and report to me, directly, as soon as the mission is accomplished. Give me that file, I will inform Maggie's girls in the FBI to be prepared for a shitstorm," he gets his coat from a hanger, and starts to put it on, "erase all traces of the search, and ensure that no one else even breathe on those files."
He starts marching out of the office, with the airman following him close behind him.
"Yes, sir," says the aide.
"This is going to be the biggest shitstorm of all times," murmurs the General, as he leaves the office with the aide.