Chapter 3
Gibbs was sat alone at his desk in the bull pen writing up his report from the previous evening when Ziva and Tony returned.
"What did you find out?" Gibbs asked.
"We retrieved the bullet from…" Ziva was about to say that she had cut a large chunk of wood out of Gibbs' prize boat when she thought better of it. "From the scene."
Gibbs looked at her curiously. He was aware that she was hiding something. "Did you have to cut a large section of wood out of her hull?"
Ziva couldn't understand how he had known and it made her feel exceedingly uncomfortable. Tony knew his boss had this sixth sense ability and smiled scornfully at Ziva until he realised that Gibbs was now staring at him. "Er," he hesitated. "Boss, we also found the snipers nest. Tony held up an evidence jar containing the shooter's brass. "And, we also found this…" Dinozzo offered the evidence bag containing the note to his boss.
Gibbs took the note and read it. Without warning, he slammed his fist on his desk making both Tony and Ziva jump. "A navy lieutenant died because some bastard was pissed off with me!" Gibbs spat. "I want to nail this guy!" he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out his six-hour, checked the clip and secured the weapon in his belt holster before making his way to the elevator.
Tony watched his determined boss and decided that his place was at Gibbs' side. "Here," he tossed the evidence they had collected at Ziva. "Get these to Abby PDQ."
"You want me to take my palm pilot to Abby?"
"No! PDQ … Pretty Darn Quick!"
Tony squeezed between the closing elevator doors just before they pinged closed. "Where are we going boss?"
"The USS Henry S Truman is currently in port at Norfolk, and we are going to find the reason Lieutenant Thorpe was murdered!"
Even though most of the crew were on shore leave, the USS Henry S Truman still buzzed with activity. Engineers and fitters busied themselves on repairs and maintenance as Gibbs and Dinozzo made their way to the bridge where the captain was finishing up his duties.
"Captain Ryan Morris?" Gibbs enquired.
"Yes, and you are?"
"Special Agents Gibbs and Dinozzo, NCIS." Both agents offered their credentials and identifications.
"Okay, what can I do for NCIS?"
"Last night, one of your lieutenants was murdered – Lieutenant William Thorpe."
The captain, shocked by the news asked "What happened, how?"
"He was shot. We think these men were involved." Gibbs pulled out two photographs Abby had printed for him of the two men featured on Thorpe's memory card. "Do you recognise either of these men, Captain?"
"This man I've never seen before," he indicated the tall dark haired figure in the first picture. "But, this is Petty Officer David Weston. He's an aviation maintenance engineer."
"Is he still on board?" Dinozzo asked.
"Yes. He's been assigned to overhaul the F-14 engines."
Gibbs and Tony turned on their heels after thanking Captain Morris for his co-operation.
Meanwhile, a mysterious figure lay under the dark blue Stratus and, with a sharp knife sliced into the brake cable. Fluid steadily dripped from the severed connection.
The aviation maintenance room held approximately a dozen men, each of whom were working steadily upon the aircraft within.
"Excuse me, where can I find Petty Officer David Weston?" Gibbs asked one of the mechanics.
"He's just gone topside to get a replacement reburner ignition diffuser, sir."
"How long ago was that Ensign?" asked Tony.
"About fifteen minutes ago. Is there a problem sir?"
Gibbs' cell rang. It was Abby, but the reception was so poor he snapped it shut again in frustration and headed back to the dockside.
Standing on the quay the reception was little better, but at least he was able to hear more of what Abby was saying.
"Hey Gi..s. The bullet Ton…me…fingerpr…casing belongs to a former…ty Officer Carlos Sanchez."
"Great work Abs! Is McGee there?"
"Hold o…"
"Yes b...ss?" McGee answered.
"See what you can find out about this Sanchez and get me all you can on a Petty Officer David Weston."
"Petty Officer Heston?"
"Weston!" Gibbs shouted.
"On it b…," McGee replied defensively as Gibbs terminated the conversation and replaced his cell phone in his overcoat pocket.
Dinozzo joined Gibbs on the quay. "I spoke with the other members of the maintenance crew, seems Petty Officer Weston was a bit of a loner. On shore leave he'd go off alone. He's not married and there doesn't appear to be a girlfriend waiting anywhere."
"Okay, sounds like we need to find out exactly what our petty officer does do with his spare time. Come on Dinozzo."
KABOOM! An explosion sent alarms and sirens sounding aboard the 'Truman'. Gibbs and Dinozzo ran back aboard the ship. The aviation maintenance bay was heavily clogged with smoke. Several men were tackling a fire on one of the F-14 Tomcat engines; two men were being treated for burns and other wounds, one of which was the ensign they had spoken with five minutes earlier. He was badly hurt, but alive.
"Did you see who was working on that aircraft, sailor?" enquired the COB who had arrived at the scene only seconds before NCIS.
"Weston, sir." The crewman's voice was dry and raspy.
"Where is he now, son?"
"I'd say he's long gone COB," Gibbs intervened.
Another crewman rushed up to the chief of the boat. "Sir, there's been another explosion!"
"I didn't hear another," the COB declared.
"It's the repository, sir. It's empty!"
Gibbs, Dinozzo and the COB ran down the corridors hurdling the 'knee knockers' en route to the repository.
It was true. The door to the safe had been blasted open and now just stood ajar, its contents clearly removed in a hurry.
"Where is the dispersing officer?" the COB asked.
"We found him a moment ago, sir. He'd been knocked out. Whoever had hit him left him in the aft 'head'," responded the crewman.
"How much did you have on board?" Gibbs enquired.
"Approximately three quarters of a million dollars!" sighed the chief of the boat.
"Isn't that rather a lot to remain on board in port?" Gibbs asked somewhat amazed.
"The collection was scheduled for this afternoon. We were called back to port because of a malfunction in the aircraft launch gear that couldn't be fixed at sea."
"Who reported the fault?" Tony asked.
"Petty Officer …Weston!" realisation suddenly dawned on the senior ship's officer as he stared at the empty safe.
Gibbs picked up his cell and dialled the lab.
"Abby?" the connection was poor so he hadn't realised he was actually talking to McGee. "We're bringing you some explosive fragments." The line went dead. McGee looked quizzical.
"Who was that?" Abby queried.
"Gibbs." Abby punched McGee on the upper arm. "Ow! What was that for?" he asked innocently.
"Don't answer my phone!" she snarled and thumped him again.
"What was that for?!" he asked again.
"Because it was Gibbs – now what did he want?"
"He said something about bringing in bits of an explosive."
"Great!" Abby smiled. "Science and forensics – kind of gives you a kick in the pants like a 'Caf-Pow!' in the morning!"
Gibbs and Dinozzo climbed into their Stratus and exited the naval base. Neither agent noticed the patch of brake fluid beneath the vehicle.
The freeway was unusually quiet so Gibbs gunned the accelerator; he only drove at one speed – fast!
"Er, boss, don't you think you ought to slow down a bit?" Tony queried.
Gibbs checked the speedometer, it read 105mph. He pressed down on the brake – nothing happened! Again and again his foot depressed the central brake pedal to no avail.
"Dinozzo! Buckle up, this is going to be a rough ride; we've got no brakes!"
Gibbs weaved in and out of the sparse traffic expertly but, it was not slowing them down, and they both knew the road into Washington was downhill. The handbrake proved futile against their velocity.
"We need to get off the freeway!" Tony exclaimed.
"Y'think, Dinozzo!"
Unexpectedly, Gibbs slung the steering wheel to the right, crossing three lanes of traffic, and drove down the off ramp. The side roads were little better as, again, Gibbs careened the Stratus around cars reversing from their driveways, pedestrians jay-walking and slower moving vehicles. Gibbs noticed an old track and drove directly at the gates that barred their passage. The meagre chain that held the gates shut against trespassers was no match for the bolstered speed of the NCIS sedan. The ride became rough but their speed was diminishing. Gibbs changed down the gears to aid their deceleration. A raised rock clipped the left front wheel which exploded causing Gibbs to lose control. The Stratus barrel rolled down an embankment finally coming to rest back on its wheels a couple of hundred yards from the track.
Gibbs blinked hard, his head was throbbing. He reached up and lightly touched his forehead. His fingers returned daubed in blood. Gibbs looked over at his colleague. Tony was unconscious, his head lolled over onto his chest.
"Dinozzo…Tony!" he shook Tony's shoulder in an attempt to wake him. He checked his pulse; he was alive. A distinctive odour wrestled his nostrils – gasoline! "C'mon Dinozzo, we've got to get out of here!"
Tony stirred as Gibbs removed their seatbelts and proceeded to drag him from the wreckage. His own wounds hampering their progress. When both agents were about twenty feet away the Stratus exploded into a ball of flames, knocking both men off their feet. Tony lay on the ground unresponsive to Gibbs' attempts to bring him around. Gibbs took off his shirt and ripped off a sleeve. Using his knife he slit the material length ways to produce some make-shift bandages. Tony's left leg was a mess of blood, ripped jeans and splintered dash-board after the crash. Carefully, Gibbs bandaged around Tony's wounds using his belt as a temporary tourniquet. Next, he flipped open his cell. It was smashed and useless. Gibbs hurled it at least fifty feet then began to rummage through Tony's pockets until he located his phone then dialled for an ambulance. Gibbs' military first aid training was enough to keep Tony alive short term, but he knew his colleague needed proper medical assistance if he were to save Dinozzo's life.
As he was going through Dinozzo's pockets he had come across the evidence bags taken from the USS Henry S Truman. "Well done Dinozzo. Well done…" Gibbs uttered. The evidence they had collected earlier had not been lost in the explosion!