Chapter Twelve: Leave of Absence

"Agent Gibbs!"

Gibbs stopped walking and turned to face the owner of the outraged voice making his way down a short flight of stairs with an almost purple face and a sheet of paper flapping in one hand.

"Yeah Leon?" Gibbs questioned when his boss reached him.

"You wanna explain to me what this is Gibbs?" the Director inquired, attempting to mask his annoyance with a film of professionalism. Behind Gibbs, three interested faces peered out of the bullpen. This was much more interesting than case reports.

Gibbs shrugged. "Looks like a piece of paper to me Leon. Don't see what the problem is."

Once again, Leon Vance admirably swallowed his indignation. "Yes, it is. In fact, it's a very important piece of paper. It's a piece of paper that states that you've filed for a leave of absence to care for a sick family member." He put as much sarcasm as he could muster into those last words.

Blue eyes bored into brown.

"That's right," Gibbs confirmed.

"Little abrupt, don't you think?" Vance had become used to dealing with Gibbs by now and didn't back down.

"Nope."

A low whistle issued from Christian Bandera broke up the glaring match long enough for both men to shoot him promises to an early grave with their eyes. He immediately shrank back into his seat while his partner rolled her eyes dramatically.

After a moment, Vance both visibly and verbally conceded.

"Two weeks," he said firmly.

"We'll see," Gibbs said equally firmly.

Vance leaned in closer to the older man and lowered his voice. "All right Gibbs. I may not know what the hell you're playing at but, as much as you may think otherwise, I do respect your judgment. I'll get Agent Chavez to take over. You've got one month. Any more and you're fired. Understood?"

Gibbs said nothing, but his silent stare turned from one of cool detachment to one of cool detachment plus a hint of gratitude.

He said nothing, but before he turned to bark orders at his team, Vance swore he saw his most troublesome agent's head give a small nod. Smiling grimly at Gibbs' back, he retreated back up the stairs from which he'd come.

The moment the Director had left, Bandera's mouth opened. "So, wait, are you leaving or not?"

The older man didn't even glance at him. Instead, he made eye contact with his most promising agent over the screen of his computer. After a beat, Chavez licked her lips and smiled briefly. With a slight jerk of her head, the deal was sealed. No questions, no answers; she knew what he was asking and was willing to accept responsibility of the goon and the geek across from her. For a painful moment, Gibbs was reminded of Kate…then his mind flicked immediately to Ziva.

He suddenly realized why seeing Chavez at that desk seemed normal now. She wasn't just a brief and inaccurate reminder of agents past, like her colleagues; she was everything Kate and Ziva had been to him rolled into one. Well, almost. There was still something she was missing, an important something. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but he did know that after this mess was cleared away, he wouldn't mind working with her again.

When she was a rising star in the CIA world.

"Hey!" Bandera practically shouted, annoyed at being ignored, "If you leave, who's gonna be in charge?"

Rison began shaking his head sadly. He already knew his fellow agent was a goner.

Surprisingly, however, Gibbs didn't say anything. It was Chavez who answered the question.

"None of your business," she snapped.

"Well, who died and made you boss?" her partner replied, sounding very much like a child.

"Nobody," Chavez said coolly, "I'm just trying to save you from being attached to a basement wall by a stick up your ass."

Bandera's laugh turned into a choke the moment he saw the look on Gibbs' face. That look meant business. Quickly, he shut his mouth and turned back to the papers on his desk.

Gibbs shook his head, but permitted himself a small smile. He'd been right. A rising star in the CIA, indeed.

oOo

He was going on a Mike-hunt. One duffel bag for clothes and toiletries and another for weapons was all he would need.

Destination: Russia.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that whomever Natasha had convinced to start up business with her again would have cleared the old hideouts years ago. But he needed to start somewhere, and heading for the original spots, and possibly her majesty's humble abode if he was sure he could get out alive, was the only diving board he had. He was only hoping that somewhere there would be a clue as to where Mike was and why Jenny had had to die.

Because this smelled like a whole lot more than just revenge. Jenny had to have known something, stumbled across some clue that the woman she'd let loose was becoming a threat again. Why else would a smart woman like Natasha not just let sleeping dogs lie? Why else would she rouse suspicion when she knew for a fact that NCIS was no longer after her thanks to Jenny's generosity?

The few pieces of puzzle that he had began to click together in Gibbs' mind. At the center was Jenny. Mike had said she'd died protecting him. Why? Maybe… Maybe she'd heard something, read something, that caused her to reopen old case files, to begin another hidden agenda. And then Natasha had begun to get suspicious that NCIS was on her tail again. But instead of targeting Jenny, the woman who had spared her life, she had decided to go after all the other players first, starting with William Decker.

Which meant that Jenny… Gibbs sighed and shook his head. Jenny had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Damnit. He allowed himself a fraction of a second to breathe before picking up his train of thought again, albeit a little more angrily.

So, Natasha had assumed that all three of them had known. And when she'd seen Jenny with Mike, she refused to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he knew anything (something Gibbs wasn't completely sure about), then he would have to be killed off as well.

It explained everything. Every single little thing that had happened since that day, including the loss of his team. Gibbs knew that nothing could be done about that until he could tell Vance that Natasha was gone. Until then, he had to find Mike…and that file. Because if Mike didn't know anything, that file sure as hell would. Jenny was sneaky enough to hide any new information she found among the old. Or maybe just plain organized enough. He wasn't sure which he preferred.

One thing he knew for sure, however. He wouldn't be able to do this alone. It wasn't just a simple rescue mission anymore. Now that he'd finally taken the time to reason everything out, he realized what he would have to do. He would have to organize a full-out undercover operation with no agency backup. That was fine. But he at least needed human backup.

He needed somebody who could be objective. That meant none of his team, though he trusted them more than anyone else. But who did that leave?

A few minutes later, as he sat on his basement steps for what could very well be the last time, the answer came to him. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly dialed a number he'd once known as well as his own.

She picked up on the third ring.

"Hello. Jethro?"

Gibbs could feel himself smiling slightly despite everything that had happened over the past few months. "Thought you'd have deleted this number by now."

He could hear her laugh a little before replying. "Well, I figured one of these days I'd be getting a call like this. What's going on? I heard about Director Shepard in the news, and—"

"Actually," Gibbs interrupted, "That's why I'm calling. Can you come over here? I… I need your help. Jenny was murdered. The people…woman who did it took my old boss, Mike. If I connected the dots right, I think I know why. I don't have NCIS backing me on this. I—"

This time it was he who was cut off. "I'll be on the next flight out. I take it we're traveling light?"

If he could have, Gibbs would have kissed her right then and there.

"Thanks Holly. I owe ya one."