Quick note to Tonysmel in case you don't already know - I've tried to respond to your questions and reviews, but the site says you've got PMs disabled.
And to all - thanks for your support! I hope you enjoy the next installations. Next two chapters are mostly written, so hopefully there will be faster updates for a bit.
Greene was tired of being tied to his desk and his phone. He was sick to death of chasing down old leads on old cases without even having a good working knowledge of what Gibbs was doing in the field.
Not that he wanted to be alone with Gibbs in the field.
Some of the other NCIS agents teased him about being replaced by DiNozzo. But it was so far from the truth he laughed right back at the ribbing. Gibbs took Tony places, treated him like he might have a useful opinion from time to time. Greene and Wadusky, on the other hand, tagged along to crime scenes but never to interviews. Twice Gibbs had taken them to apprehend a suspect, but he'd always kept them behind him, like ducklings too dumb to cross the road on their own.
Greene knew he was raw. He also knew Gibbs wasn't a good teacher. The man wasn't patient, at least not with anyone but Abby. He didn't slow down to show his probies what he was doing, or why he did it, or how they should do it. If they couldn't learn on the fly, then they wouldn't learn at all.
It wasn't even considered a failure within NCIS to be booted off of Gibbs' team. It was assumed everyone would be, and sooner rather than later.
If DiNozzo could put up with Gibbs' crap, he was welcome to it.
Abby stalked into the bullpen, pigtails slashing through the air, hands on the chain running around her hips. "Ducky gave me Tony's cell, but it's going straight to voice mail. Is Gibbs around?"
Greene stood, eager for any interruption. "Gibbs and DiNozzo took off. They mentioned an interrogation, I guess they went after a suspect."
"Did you get a replacement for Gibbs' cell phone yet?"
"No. Wouldn't he do that himself?"
"Good luck with that. If they call in, tell them Tony's hunch might've panned out. Collins got his tattoo at a place called Max's in Baltimore. At least two of the other victims were there in the last five years."
She stalked on. Wadusky, who had been building a fort out of #2 pencils at his desk while he sat on hold with a county coroner, trying to verify the death of a suspect in one of the killer's earliest murders, leaned over his desk in his efforts to continue letting his eyes follow the progress of Abby's behind around the corner. He impaled himself on lead for his efforts but seemed not to notice.
Dropping back into his seat, Greene pulled up a map to Max's and called the Baltimore station house.
"Sergeant Dixon speaking."
"Sergeant, I'm trying to reach Detective DiNozzo, or better yet the NCIS agent he's been working with."
"Haven't seen 'em. Could put you through to DiNozzo's voice mail."
"No, thanks." He hung up.
He tapped his thumb on the desk.
He checked the map.
The chances of Gibbs coming back to the office in the next three hours were fairly slim. And if he did, so what? If his probies weren't there, what could he do? Kick them off his team?
Fine. Anything would be better than being assigned to a field team, but unable to work in the field.
He eyed Wadusky. Checked the map again.
Baltimore wasn't so far away.
Tony found Gibbs waiting for him in the hall after he dropped Teddy off at a jail cell.
Whatever reaction he'd expected from the man, he didn't get it. Gibbs merely raised an eyebrow at him.
Feeling the need to fill the silence, he said, "Well, looks like Teddy isn't our guy."
Miraculously, the corner of Gibbs' mouth ticked up and he made a small, quick choking noise. A smile spread across his face for a second before he wiped it off. "Yep."
Was he being laughed at or with? DiNozzo smiled uneasily and changed the subject. "I gotta check my messages real quick." Gibbs seemed about to protest, so Tony handily followed it up with, "You never did say where my phone was. Got it on you?"
"It slipped."
"Slipped where?"
"Paint thinner."
"My phone grew legs and slipped on paint thinner?"
"Into paint thinner."
"Ah, my phone grew legs and, afraid of your terse conversational style, committed suicide by slipping itself into paint thinner. Makes much more sense." He started walking back towards his desk.
Gibbs scowled, which Tony was comfortable with. "Where'd you learn to interrogate a suspect? Clown college?"
"I tried the by-the-book stuff, but it only works on a handful of perps. I find the process goes more quickly if you identify either what they're afraid of or what annoys the shit out of them and go after that." And screw anyone who didn't like it. At least he got results, and didn't waste a day doing it.
"Worked."
Gibbs voice was gruff, but that sure sounded like a compliment.
He continued, "Wouldn't work on most Marines, though. Too much training to fall for something like that."
A compliment followed by a statement that reduced the compliment to shreds. That felt more like Gibbs' style.
"Might be able to tweak it a little, though, make it work on more people."
Now Tony raised an eyebrow.
They'd reached the door to Homicide, and he decided to let the subject drop for now. Too bizarre.
Easing down into his much-loved beaten-up chair, he grabbed his phone and started jotting down notes from his messages while Gibbs poked at the files on his desk impatiently.
He ignored the fact that Delilla was staring at them from across the room.
"Abby says Collins' tattoo came from a place called Max's, and at least two of our other victims have used the same place according to credit card receipts."
"Recently?"
"Over the last five years. Could be a coincidence."
"I don't believe in coincidences."
"It does sound like a fishy word. Coincidence. Co-incidental. Who are they trying to kid?"
"You know where this place is?"
"Yeah. I'll drive." He hesitated.
"What?" Gibbs demanded. "Spit it out."
"You're not gonna like it."
"Well I for sure don't like not knowing whatever the hell you're not talking about."
"I think you should follow my lead there."
"Why?"
"It's pretty defined gang territory. I know some of those guys. We should be okay, but don't play the fed card. And keep your jacket zipped up so they can't see your gun."
"They that twitchy?"
He looked Gibbs straight in the eye and scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Yeah. They're that twitchy."
Gibbs nodded slowly. "Okay. Your lead."
Tony grinned. Sweeter words from Leroy Jethro Gibbs' mouth had likely never been heard.
No matter what Mallace had tried to do to ruin DiNozzo's reputation at the squad house, it hadn't worked. From what Gibbs had seen in interrogation and in Tony's brief exchanges with passing coworkers, the kid was well-liked and respected. Everyone seemed to keep a certain distance from him, but was that because they wanted to avoid Mallace's wrath, or because DiNozzo did a fine and dandy job at keeping them at arm's length himself?
Gibbs suspected the latter.
He also suspected his earlier suspicions about Delilla were correct. The older detective watched Tony like a hawk, as though he had to report back on DiNozzo's actions to someone.
Mallace?
He hoped Whitford took Mallace down. And soon. The buffoon was an affront to LEOs everywhere.
His blood was pumping faster now as Tony parked the car. He frowned as he realized it was in direct response to DiNozzo's own reaction – well hidden, but still noticeable in the dilation of his pupils, the faster hand motions, the slight sharpening of his movements.
Danger.
They got out of the fleet car and locked it, though DiNozzo cast a doubtful look at it as though he did not expect it to be there when they returned. Turning up the collar of his coat, he jerked his head to the right and led the way. As they rounded the corner, Tony stopped and arranged his features into a big, easy smile.
"Ricky," he greeted a small man covered in gold chains who was surrounded by very, very large men who looked like they used chains for other purposes.
"Tony," came the return greeting, accompanied by a snake-like smile. "Need something?"
"I got no beef with your guys today, Ricky. I just need to go into Max's, talk to the guys there. Might be a tie to a case."
"Let me guess, a pretty white college kid got his ass killed after wandering into the ghetto. News at ten." His companions sneered.
"It's true, actually. But not just him. Been a bunch of cases lately, feel connected to me. Might be a tie to Max's."
Surprised by Tony's candor, Gibbs nonetheless remained silent and still. Every man in the group was packing. If DiNozzo knew these jerkoffs and thought the best way to handle them was to tell them the truth, he trusted the detective.
Wow. He meant that. When had that happened?
Ricky rubbed a hand across his shaved scalp. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." DiNozzo cocked his head to the side. "You know something?"
"Word is, there's a boogeyman. Street people's calling him The Basher. The Baltimore Basher, I guess. Not very original, but it gets the message out."
"You know anything about him?"
Ricky made an obvious decision to continue the conversation and relaxed, causing his men to relax a bit as well.
Gibbs remained not relaxed.
"Nah. I don't think he's one of my guys, or our competition. Or any of the street people – guy's got access to trucks and stuff, moves around the city, ain't got no pattern that we know."
"Are there victims that weren't reported to the police?"
"For sure."
Tony closed his eyes for a moment; a bonehead move that could've cost him something dear if Ricky had been looking for an opening.
"How many?"
"No way of knowing. Maybe ten, fifteen you wouldn't know about. Maybe more."
Shit.
"Shit, Ricky! Nobody could think of a single cop that maybe they should mention this to? It's a serial killer. Asking the cops for help with a serial killer can't be breaking the damn code."
Ricky shrugged, uncomfortable. "And you'd believe us?"
Tony dared to lean in close, less than an inch from the shorter man's face. "I'd believe."
Ricky nodded and rubbed his bald head again. "I can see if I can gather some details. One of my guys, he found a crow bar by one of the bodies. Ain't gonna work for prints or nothing, he's had it too long, but you can have it if you want." He made a sharp gesture to a large, round man behind him who opened his coat and pulled out a long piece of metal, preparing to hand it over.
Opening that coat also revealed a rather large gun that made Gibbs twitchy, but he felt Tony had the situation under control and stayed calm and stock still.
Unfortunately, Greene and Wadusky had no such knowledge as they rounded the corner behind Gibbs and DiNozzo just at the moment that the huge man reached for the metal bar – which could easily be misinterpreted as reaching for the gun parked right beside it.
"GUN!" Shouted Wadusky, as both he and Greene pulled their own weapons, causing most of Ricky's thugs to pull theirs.
Facing eight weapons pointed at his head was apparently too much for the youngest probie.
He fired.