A/N: This is a very long one, and probably my favorite. The show never answered the questions around Jasper Shepard. Here's my take on it.

Chapter 11. Confessions

Vance was the first to recover. "McGee, put General Shepard in Interrogation." McGee simply nodded and took the older man's arm. He brought him in and watched him sit in the chair before turning to leave.

When he returned, he saw that Sacks was no where in sight, replaced by Ziva, who must have noticed Shepard through the window when he walked in.

"...And I'm saying that the minute he leaves this building, he will be killed," Ziva was saying.

"You can't know that," DDO Johnson said.

"Yes, she can," stated DiNozzo. He looked tired. He didn't look this tired when McGee was walking up with General Shepard. And McGee wasn't out of sight for that long. DiNozzo, leaning up against the wall, continued, "That's how you'd do it, right, Ziva?"

Ziva only nodded, infuriating Johnson. "Doesn't matter. I will not allow NCIS to interrogate General Shepard. His duties before he died, supposedly died, whatever, were sensitive and classified higher than all of you combined."

Vance looked between all of them. "Well, Carter, as of right now, he's in NCIS custody. Unless you want to call the President or the Secretary of Defense and have one of them order me to release him into your custody, then Special Agent DiNozzo has someone to talk to."

Johnson looked livid. He finally spun on his heel, entering Observation. He was quickly followed by Fornell and Vance. Ziva started to enter, but DiNozzo held her back. He whispered in her ear and she nodded, taking out her cell phone.

McGee moved off, stating, "I'm going to get you some coffee, Tony. I think you're gonna need it." DiNozzo just smiled as Ziva hung up the phone. They both stood against the wall, molding themselves to it, their hands brushing, four eyes closed.

"Can I do this? This is on the level of Vance, not me," Tony mumbled.

Ziva closed her hand in his, giving a reassuring squeeze. Tony smiled as he heard the elevator announce its arrival down the hall. They both looked in that direction, seeing McGee, followed by two agents, and behind them...

"Abby? What the Hell are you doing here," DiNozzo almost shouted.

McGee sprang to her rescue. "My fault, Tony. She saw me getting your coffee...Oh, here," McGee said, handing him his coffee. "And she cornered me. She asked why, and when I would tell, she promised to show me her new tattoo."

Ziva looked confused. "Why would you want to see the new tattoo on her calf?"

McGee looked chagrined. "Yeah, she didn't tell me where until after." DiNozzo chuckled and pointed to Observation. Abby gave him a kiss on the cheek as she passed. DiNozzo's nose smelled something odd for this part of the building, but it wasn't confirmed until Abby entered and asked everyone if they wanted some popcorn.

"And Ducky?"

"Ah, Anthony, you don't really believe that I'd miss this for the world," Ducky said as he approached. DiNozzo just nodded in agreement with the statement, making it clear he didn't agree with the intent, but didn't make the older man leave. "By the way, I sent Jimmy to the hospital to sit with Jethro."

DiNozzo didn't move. "Better him bored there than here, Ducky."

Ziva quickly reached up and kissed his other cheek before moving to the two agents, standing guard at the door. "No one is to enter without the express authorization of myself or Special Agent McGee, is that understood?" Both men nodded in unison. "That means not the director, not the Secretary of the Navy, not even God if he walks down the hallway." The two men looked askance at her. She lowered her voice. "If you allow anyone in, without either of our permissions, I will torture you slowly over a period of years. There are places in North Africa that I can get you to where no one will ever find you."

Both gulped and nodded, again in unison. Ziva turned to Tony, smiled brightly and blew him a kiss before going into Observation.

Two minutes later, after Ziva assuring the two agents that she had indeed meant to allow Special Agent DiNozzo to enter, he finally did, shaking his head at the absurdity of it. Probies.

He moved to the chair and sat down, placing a bottle of water in front of the older man. They sat in silence for five minutes before DiNozzo spoke.

"You came to us, General. What do you have to say?"

Shepard sighed, suddenly looking his age, if not older. DiNozzo noticed the lines around his eyes, deeper than anyone he'd ever seen before, telling of a life lived on the edge, and making him old before his time.

"First of all, I killed Petty Officer James Carmichael. But, I killed the wrong man.

"For me to tell the story, Agent...DiNozzo, right?" DiNozzo nodded. "I have to start before I," he chuckled, "died. That's over twenty years ago.

"At the time, I was assigned to a weapons destruction inspection team in the Soviet Union. My counterpart, a Soviet Colonel General, I, my aide, and his aide, made up the entire team. We had a support team available, mainly to handle lodging and travel arrangements, but they never came close to where we were working.

"And that work was quite simple. The team would witness the destruction of Soviet arms, which would take a few hours. We'd fill out some reports, secure them, and go out for vodka. We did maybe two inspections per week, and we were always together. I understand there was another team doing the same in America, but drinking whiskey instead." Shepard chuckled before he continued.

"I had a large amount of autonomy. I came and went as I pleased, and returned to the US to file my reports with the DIA, Defense Intelligence Agency, every three months or so. That would take a week, then I'd have two weeks off to spend with my family, before heading back out. We flew commercial when possible to save money, our reports sent ahead in a diplomatic pouch. Most of the time, I'd fly through either London's Heathrow or France's Orly airports, not in uniform.

"I'd been doing it for about two years before things started to get really weird. I was headed back to Washington, in Orly, when I was approached by a man. He simply sat beside me and addressed me as 'General.' Most of the people around us were speaking French, with a group of German tourists the only exception. I spoke both languages fluently, along with Russian and about five others, but we spoke in English.

"He made me what, in the movies, would be referred to as 'an offer I couldn't refuse.' He would pay me $100,000 to simply say that arms were destroyed when they weren't. He said he'd already gotten to my Soviet counterpart."

DiNozzo interrupted. "He threatened you."

Shepard chuckled without humor. "No. If he'd threatened me, it wouldn't have made a difference. In fact, he never directly threatened. He simply showed a picture of my daughter in a college cafeteria. He mentioned her beauty and how he'd hate to see it ruined."

DiNozzo didn't move a muscle, but inside he was seething. Hearing Jenny threatened before she had the skills to defend herself, even more than twenty years ago, made him very angry. But, he said nothing as Shepard continued his narrative.

"I asked him if he was serious, and he said he was. He said to check him out. By this time, they were calling my flight. He said all could be found out with a name. His name. Rene Benoit."

DiNozzo again didn't move, but his mind's eye saw Rene leaning over him, speaking his real name, and then his car exploding. He'd truly liked Rene, and probably loved his daughter during his 'assignment.' For a few hours, he'd actually mourned Rene's death. He snapped his mind back to the present to hear Shepard continue.

For his part, Shepard saw the turmoil behind the younger man's eyes, and waited until he was fixated back on him before he continued. "When I got back, I appeared normal. I filed my reports, spoke to who I had to speak to, and quietly looked into Benoit.

"At the time, he was an up and coming arms dealer. He couldn't be choosy at the time, so he worked with people like Carlos the Jackal and groups like Hamas, who actually bought their first weapons from him, just after their 1987 founding.

He spoke in a lighter tone than the measured one he'd used until now. "Now, at the DIA there were always a couple of CIA people around, in uniform. Their head was a Colonel named Jacobs who liked people to think he was actually Air Force." He snickered as he recalled, "You should have seen his face when I went to his office and told him I wanted to talk to someone in charge at the CIA. You would have thought his world came crashing down." DiNozzo, who reveled in making the CIA look stupid, chuckled along.

"But, he did it. I told them what happened, and offered to use myself as a mole. I'd take the money, put it in a Swiss account, do as he asked, and we could catch some of the people he was selling to and buying from. They agreed to it just a few hours before I left to go back.

"I was going through Heathrow this time, and there he was, waiting for the plane to empty. He saw me, I saw him, I nodded, he nodded, and he walked away. We never came within thirty feet of each other. At the end of three months, my new account had $300,000 in it.

"This went on for over a year. I'd do my inspections, come home, file my DIA reports, and be debriefed by the CIA. Then, I'd be back at it. At times, I'd actually meet with Benoit. Aside from his earlier threats against my daughter, I genuinely liked him. He was very cultured, and once each trip would turn our vodka nights into a night with some very fine brandy and cigars. He was very cultured, refined, and a true gentleman. I almost called him a friend.

"After a little over a year, I noticed someone new with him. He only carried a briefcase, didn't say anything, but I'd seen him before. He was one of the CIA men in uniform at the DIA. When I knew him, he was posing as a Navy Lieutenant. Like I said before, you could tell the CIA from the actual military people. I'd actually given him a lecture on the proper wear of the uniform once, right in the middle of a busy hallway. It was one of the few ways I could fight back against the CIA who'd entered my domain.

"But, this man was now in a suit, and a very nice one at that. But, it was still the same man. He looked at me like he didn't recognize me, and I put two and two together quickly and decided not to greet him like a long lost friend. By this time, Benoit, through being careful, had worked his way up and was a man to be reckoned with. He never got his hands dirty, but he commanded those who did.

"I figured that the CIA had finally gotten smart and put someone on the inside. I never knew where he came from, or how he got to meet Benoit, but he was there, no denying that. The only difference was his name. In the DIA, he was Sutherland, to Benoit, he was Trent Kort."

DiNozzo's mind whirled as he thought of the man he'd come to despise. Kort, two rooms away, was the only man that he'd ever thought about killing for no reason. Although, there was reason. Plenty of reason. Just no reason that would be justified. DiNozzo was beginning to get to the point where he really didn't care about that anymore either. If he had a chance, he'd kill Kort without a seconds hesitation, then get Abby's help to clean it up.

Shepard took a deep breath and a drink of water before continuing his narrative. "When I got back, I went to my control officer, the former Colonel from the DIA, and told him my suspicions. He said he'd look into it, but he never got back to me. Within two days, he was reassigned as the CIA Station Chief in South Africa, and I had a new control officer. He made no mention of Kort, and treated me like a leper. I didn't like him either," he said, with a smile that barely left his mouth.

"Finally, I, as they say, 'saw the light.' I got a couple of friends of mine to help, and two days before I was to go back, I faked my death, right in my study. My daughter was away at college, due to graduate in five months, but I heard she left school right away once she was informed.

"I had to move fast. The morning before I died, I was actually on a plane, flying to Europe." He looked slightly wistful. "I never did find out how they did it, or whose body they used. But, I digress.

"By this time, the DIA and CIA were starting to fight over who'd get the money when this was all over. But, until they hashed it out, the only one that could access the account was me. And I did. I pulled out every dollar, two hours before my death. Thanks to interest, the amount had ballooned to over four million. By the time my daughter had returned from college to prepare for my funeral, the money was spread across fifteen banks all over Western Europe. I actually thought of going to Benoit and asking for a job, but my moral obligations wouldn't allow it.

"I decided to take him down. Once I was on the run for a couple of weeks, I blamed him for everything wrong over the past year and a half. I didn't want him dead. Arrest was too good. I wanted him discredited, marginalized, on the run from his buyers, sellers, and other middle men. I started to follow him, follow his money. I tipped off security agencies in twenty different countries, from South America to Asia. The only one I couldn't get to listen was the Chinese Ministry of State Security. I even tipped off the KGB for over a decade. The CIA, FBI, DIA, NCIS, France's DGSE, Germany's BND, Canada's CSIS, Japan's CIRO, INTERPOL, all got tips for two decades.

"His buyers were being arrested, the people selling to him were being arrested. But, I hadn't taken two things into account. Greed, and good PR. He managed to keep himself in business while making people realize that it wasn't him that was tipping off the authorities. So, he continued.

"His arms ended up with revolutionaries in the Ivory Coast; he bought from Bolivia's Army, then sold to the people leading a coup d' etat against Bolivia; he was the middle man on the RPGs that shot down two American helicopters in Somalia. He supplied the Tamil Tigers in their fight for independence. There's not a gunshot in all of Africa over the past fifteen years that can't be traced back to him, somehow.

"By this time, I had a team together. Three men and a woman, and no, I won't give their names." He glared at DiNozzo until the younger man nodded in agreement. DiNozzo felt safe in the fact that it was he that was agreeing, not the FBI or CIA in the Observation room. Even Vance could later say, and DiNozzo would agree on this point, that he didn't have the authority to agree to that.

"We started to remove his support structure. Bankers, technicians, hit men, all found themselves arrested, dead, or otherwise employed." The smile on Shepard's face finally reached his eyes, but it was a smile of evil. DiNozzo wondered how many Shepard had personally seen to, and knew he'd never get an answer. "We traced his money, his movements."

His eyes glassed over while he dredged up a memory. "We ended up in Paris one time. I remember sitting in a cafe, where two tables over, a man and a woman were having a romantic evening. Or at least that's what they wanted everyone to think. And, I believe they were successful. I also heard something in her voice. Love can be faked, but she wasn't faking. I knew if I needed help, all I had to do was find one of them. But, then came Poland.

He grinned ruefully. "I got laid up with pneumonia. Somehow he gave the rest of the team the slip. We were out of action for six months while I recuperated. I learned technology while I rested, waiting for my body to get back to where it was. It hasn't fully, still, but it's been good enough.

"It took us a year, but we finally found him. We started up the tips again. But, we found that we were having more trouble in being believed. And a new NCIS director, who was known well by me, was very keen on finding out who we were."

DiNozzo spoke for the first time in an hour. And when he did, it was one word. "Jenny."

Shepard chuckled. "Funny, she always hated to be called 'Jenny.' Had to be 'Jennifer,' or nothing. She went through a year when she wouldn't answer to anything but, not even 'honey' or 'sweetie.' But, yes, she started to ask a lot of questions.

"And, she wasn't the only one. So, we decided to remove Benoit and end it all. We tracked him to Canada where he was going to sell a US Navy missile guidance system. We were sitting there, my sniper and I as the spotter, when we noticed a glint of light coming from a cargo box placed where one shouldn't have been. I turned the scope and saw a woman behind a sniper rifle of her own, and a man spotting for her. The man was you."

DiNozzo cringed as he finally realized what was really bothering him on that mission. Not the orders that Jenny had personally, and very privately, given them, but the thought that something wasn't right. That they were being watched somehow. He thought, at the time, that it was one of Rene's men. Now, he knew.

"Some of the technology we had could tap into cell phone calls. We traced Kort's transmission to his control officer at the CIA, and the CIA's call to Jennifer. I was so shocked to hear her voice that I froze. As your shooter was asking for permission to fire, so was mine. Except, we were targeting Kort. We figured with him out of the way, Benoit would have to get sloppy by taking some things into his own hands, making for an easier, and more deniable, kill."

Shepard looked at his hands as he spoke, his voice low. "But, I froze. Everything was in place. The shooter, the getaway, everything. But, I couldn't speak the words. They got away. The three men on my team quit in disgust, leaving me only the woman I'd come to see as my daughter, to replace the one Benoit took from me.

He looked up at DiNozzo. "Can you imagine. Here I was, over twenty years tracking Benoit. I knew his every like, dislike, what he had for breakfast. I knew him better than I knew myself. I knew how he thought, what he thought, probably before he thought it.

"We decided to take a break. We melted into the shadows for a few months, she went off somewhere, and I spent my time in Russia, visiting my old friend. I found out later that I missed Jennifer by only a few days in Russia." He shook his head regretfully. "All the times I'd flown over America, Europe, and here she was, just a couple days apart.

"We met up again and decided on a new tack. Kort, by this time, had a reputation for violence that rivaled anything I'd ever heard of before. He was directly tied, by us, to over fifty murders personally, and ordering another few hundred. People who didn't do what he wanted, people who stood in his way. We saw some of the handiwork personally. He had personally hacked a man to death, joint by joint while he was still alive." Shepard shuddered at the thought, revulsion on his face.

"I decided to concentrate on Kort and she tracked Benoit. We finally found them in D.C. I couldn't get to Benoit, and realized that Kort was about to try to kill Benoit, taking over the organization. I decided I needed help, so I went to Jennifer. I was hoping she could get over her shock fast enough to do what I needed her to do. But, before she could get home, I got a call that both were seen outside of Monroe University Hospital. I rushed out and met Ka...um..my partner there.

"We saw Benoit's limo outside the hospital, but we also saw one of Kort's men, a man named Mike Davis, fiddling with a car in the parking lot." DiNozzo gasped as he realized that this was probably the same man Fornell arrested earlier for trying to kill Gibbs. This must also be the same day he lost his precious car to a bomb. And the same man was now in NCIS custody.

Shepard again waited for DiNozzo before continuing. He didn't know what was going on inside the younger man's head, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't disbelief. "We saw you exit the hospital, with his daughter. We had decided that his daughter was innocent in all this and we wouldn't make a move if she was near. We just never put it together that he was waiting for her, and, as it turns out, you. So, we followed you. We saw, what we later found out was your car, explode. We hadn't seen Kort in hours, we found out later that he'd slipped away from us at the hospital and went to Langley. He later came here, but left before we could get into position."

Shepard sighed lightly and drank more water. "We saw you in the park, and intercepted Benoit's call to Kort, who seemed surprised at the explosion. We lost him after he came to the Navy Yard to drop you off. We had only one car, and two exits to guard. He must have left through the other one."

Shepard's voice showed unmistakable anger. "I traced Benoit that night to his boat. I was going to end it, once and for all. No snipers, no taking out the legs, just me and him and a pistol. I was waiting for midnight, when his guards were coming close to the end of their shifts. Easier to take out a tired man than one that has just woken up. So, I waited.

"Then, I noticed a car pull up, and Jennifer exit. She simply walked onto the boat. That's when I realized that in all my time watching him, he wouldn't use a bodyguard in the U.S. I smacked myself for my stupidity, but decided to wait until she left. I never thought she would be in league with him, but their conversation carried over the water. I heard them argue, her telling him that he should let his daughter decide for herself. I also caught what sounded like your name, but I can't be sure with the distance."

Internally, DiNozzo was in turmoil. Jenny had gone to Rene to try to get he and Jeanne together again? Was it possible? Everything in his gut was telling him that this was the truth, but, as an investigator, he knew that memories sometimes lie. Shepard might have thought what he remembered was the truth. That didn't make it actually true. He very briefly considered his life with Jeanne still by his side, before he shook it off to concentrate on Shepard again.

"Then, I heard voices louder as they moved to my side of the deck. Before I realized it, I heard a gunshot, and Jennifer push Benoit over the rail and into the Potomac. I was frozen in shock, yet again. My own flesh and blood and taken this satisfaction from me. I had killed myself for this moment, and my rage boiled over.

"I never once thought about going after Jennifer, but I realized a little bit later, that with Benoit out of the picture, Kort would have nothing standing in his way of taking over. And, take over, he did.

"He was more ruthless than Benoit could have ever been. He was more ruthless than he was before. He killed many personally, but he used his minions for most of it. He was beginning to act above it all, and surrounded himself with guards all day and night. We could never get to him."

His voice became mournful. "Then, the woman left me. She said I was too obsessed and wasn't looking at anything logically. Didn't matter that she was right. I didn't care. The day she left, I killed a man. He sold weapons for Benoit and now Kort. I simply walked up to him and shot him in the head. I walked away. Didn't feel a thing. Later, that's what scared me most. The lack of feeling.

"But, it didn't stop me. Whoever was selling to Kort, buying for Kort, working for Kort, was dead. They may not have hit the ground yet, but they were living until I decided. I felt Godlike. For over a year, across four continents, someone sold weapons, someone bought weapons, they died by my hand. I couldn't get them all, but I could get enough."

His voice became almost a whisper. "Then, came a week ago. I had tracked sales to a Petty Officer at the Navy Yard in the supply warehouse. I stalked him, tracked him. I was set up for the kill. He was having an argument with another man, and he started to walk away. I exited my car and took a couple of steps. Then, I saw the man he was arguing with come out of nowhere with a stick of some kind. As he dropped, I blanked." His voice turned fierce and vile. "Another one taken from me. I walked up to him, calmly, at least on the outside, and simply shot him in the face. Then I walked away.

"I went back to my safe house. I wondered how this one could have gotten away. I looked at everything I had. Pictures, a copy of the form he signed to set up his account. Then, I noticed something. In one of the pictures, he was writing left handed. But, the signature card was signed by someone right handed. I had killed an innocent man.

"Last night, I made my decision. I was going to turn myself in, but not just to anyone. I was going to turn myself into the man my daughter trusted. I called and he agreed to meet me at my old house. I hadn't known it burned down. But, it was fitting. That's the house I grew up in. It had been in the family for generations. Now, it was only a slab of concrete and some pipes sticking up.

"I was that house. Desolate, charred, nothing to show for my life but the core. And even that wasn't strong. The foundation of the house was cracked and starting to shift. When he pulled up, I finally realized how much I had lost. He recognized me and I simply put out my hands to be cuffed. He just shook my hand and led me to the car.

"I decided to tell him everything on the way, when this truck came out of no where. Smashed the car. I got a couple of cuts and bruises, but he looked dead. I staggered to a pay phone and called 911. I knew that he had just one chance, and that was to give the government plates on the car to the dispatch operator. I melted back away once I saw the ambulance arrive.

"Then, I just wandered. No direction in mind. I slept under a bridge last night. When I woke up, I started wandering again. I stole a sandwich from a store sometime this morning, but barely ate half of it. More wandering. Before I knew it, I was at the gate to the Navy Yard. I realized what I had to do. So, I convinced a guard to bring me here."

He let out a deep breath. "That's it."

DiNozzo almost let out a laugh. 'That's it.' As if those two words could sum up the story he'd just heard. His mind raced as he reflected on all he'd been told. The sheer volume of information taken into the past, he looked at his watch, two hours, was enough to give him food for thought for the next decade. DiNozzo regarded him for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke. "Where's the gun you used on Petty Officer Carmichael?"

Shepard grinned as he reached inside his jacket. "Funny thing about getting old. Told the security it was a colostomy bag," he said as he pulled out the pistol, wrapped in a plastic bag with a tube duct taped to it. "No one wanted to search it to find out," he chuckled.

Mentally, DiNozzo head slapped McGee. It may also have been in his mind, but he could swear he heard four head slaps and McGee yelping each time. He mentally thanked Ducky, Fornell, Abby, and Ziva.

He waved his hand at the window. Seconds later, Ziva entered, a pad of paper in her glove covered hand. She handed the paper to Shepard and picked up the bag with the pistol in it. The look she gave him was of deep respect. She may not agree with his motives, but she did realize that he had done what she might have.

As she left the room, DiNozzo pointed to the paper. "I'll need the aliases you've used so we can corroborate your story. Also, someone will be down with a cheek swab for DNA matching."

Shepard looked furious. "I just gave you everything and you want proof? I would have been better off taking my chances with the CIA."

DiNozzo stood, towering over the older man, his face set in stone. He spoke so softly Shepard had to strain to hear. "Did you kill Petty Officer Carmichael?" Shepard nodded, anger still on his face. "Was he the man you should have killed?" Shepard looked away for a moment before shaking his head, the anger disappearing. "You didn't corroborate your evidence. I'm not going to make the same mistake."

DiNozzo stood and moved to the door. Seconds later, the agents outside entered and gestured for Shepard to stand. They frisked him and cuffed him. His head hung low as he left the room. DiNozzo, standing outside, heard the door to Observation open and saw Abby and McGee walk out. Behind them, he heard a loud argument over jurisdiction and who would take Shepard into custody.

But, seeing his friends, none of that even registered. Abby, tears on her cheeks, simply took his hand and led him toward the elevator. Tim followed, moving ahead to call the elevator. Tony didn't even register where they were heading until he found himself at Abby's desk, light Jazz softly coming from her radio, and three separate sets of hands rubbing his shoulders and back.

He pillowed his head on his arms. Try as he might, he just couldn't get to sleep.