Author's Note: Ugh, I hate trying to guess time zones lol. I'm doing the best I can to keep things relatively 'realistic' in that sense, but I'm not exactly worried about it either. I'm far more worried about the actual mystery and finding believable ways to properly break down each and every step and making sure the pieces are able to be put together. Again though, Nomad-117 and I haven't done a story like this before, a mystery I mean, so if we've made any mistakes, feel free to point at us and laugh. Lol okay, maybe not that, but any kind but thoughtful criticism and feedback is appreciated. I DO however want to take a moment to address something one of our 'reviewers' pointed out.

To sum it up, he called us out on our habit of never finishing anything we start, and while I admit that we have had a great deal of trouble doing so, I DO however want to point out that we're not going to update a story if we don't have the motivation and the inspiration to deliver a quality, content rich chapter. It's unfair to you, the readers, if we give you a much lower quality update just for the sake of putting something out there instead of taking the time to do such a thing the justice it deserves, and we DO have real life concerns and problems, just like everyone else. Such problems and concerns impact us emotionally as much as anyone, and prevent us from, again, finishing what we start or at the very least, prevent us from putting the level of work we'd like so that we keep up a certain quality you guys and gals deserve from us and have come to know when we're actually ABLE to do so. Just be considerate is all I ask, instead of making demands upon our time without thinking, "Gee, maybe there's a good reason why there hasn't been an update to my favorite story for the better part of a year, and my badgering them for a half assed update might be a bad idea?"

Thank you, and have a pleasant day everyone else who actually understands what some people clearly don't.


Blind Woman's Bluff Part 2


Earth, USA, Washington

Washington D.C. Ballistics Lab

March 2nd, 2195, 8:47 PM Local Time

Abby Sciuto couldn't help but smile as she remembered the first few weeks in this new time and place. Despite how...neurotic she'd been at the beginning, the simple fact that her...mild obsession with UFOs and alien life had born fruit, had helped to give her something immensely positive to focus on. That and it had made her giddy to rub McGee's nose in it since he'd been the first to debunk the 'hoax' that were crop circles that had popped up numerous times around the world, a relative topic because someone had thought it'd be a good idea to a make crop circle in their field in an effort to cover up a murder. Granted, he'd been right about that much, but only so far that the crop circles had been fake, not that alien life didn't exist. Humanity simply hadn't come into contact with them, as far as anyone knew at least.

"What are you smiling about Abby?" The assistant technician, an asari named Athame Jina Mas, chuckled, her youthful, purple face pulled up into a grin as she bustled about the lab while Abby waited for the results of the tests she had cooking.

"Just remembering the early days Athame. And I gotta say, being named after a goddess, rocks!" Abby emphasized her glee by nodding her head as if she were rocking out at a concert, fingers positioned in the old 'hand horn' sign.

A gesture that had Athame chuckling right before the video enhancement program they'd been running finally cleaned up the images they had been sent by McGee. Turning to the monitor, both women grinned victoriously now that they had a better image to work from. Kicking off the ground, Abby pushed her rolling chair over to a nearby keyboard and began tapping furiously at the keys. "Running a search for our scumbag now. Here's hoping our friends in the Migrant Fleet are feeling cooperative."

"I wouldn't bet on it Ms. Sciuto, they tend to protect their own people rather fiercely, even if they aren't born on the Fleet itself, and the unfortunate truth is that most of the galaxy would be happy to see the quarians drop off the face of the map." Atheme replied as she continued to work at the spare station, going over the ballistic scans they'd been sent from the theater shooting. "Looks like our boy likes military grade armaments to go with his tactical cloak. These results say that he was using some powerful weaponry. If I were to guess, he got them as most of the gangs no doubt have these days, by scavenging through any place where a heavy military presence might have been, which was almost every planet from here to the Skyllian Verge during the war nine years ago."

"But if that's the case, then they can be tracked through the military databases." Abby replied but a quick look from her partner in crime, metaphorically speaking, stopped her from moving from her spot.

"Assuming again that the information is up to date, which, again is unlikely from all the destruction and worse." Athame tensed up as she tried not to think of that particular point in her long life, but it was a losing fight.

"Hey," Abby's hand on her shoulder a moment later and her mere comforting presence was enough to pull her back to the present as Athame shook her head before looking towards the dark haired, pig tailed Goth at her side, "you don't have to do this you know. If it's too much, I can take over."

"No, I'll be fine. Just….bad memories is all." Athame sighed but offered Abby a wan smile, before a mischievous gleam appeared in her whiskey colored eyes. "And besides, you'd be helpless without me to run all of the advanced tech in this lab of ours."

"I can still kill you and not leave a shred of forensic evidence though." Abby countered, matching the other woman's grin with one of her own.

"Should I come back or do you two need a room?" Seeing Tony's face on a nearby monitor, both women gave him their best impression of a 'Gibbs glare'. He stared right back in open if playful defiance despite their efforts to intimidate him, "You know that loses some of its effect several million light years away right?"

"Until you come back to the office you mean." Athame retorted playfully, a just noticeable shimmer of her biotic ability manifesting itself before she reigned herself back.

"Good point." Tony relented and shuddered uncomfortably. "You sure you aren't related to the boss?" He winced when Gibbs slapped the back of his head, the hit hard enough that both asari and Goth grimaced in sympathy as Tony groaned audibly. "Just about to brief the labbies back home about what we've found thus far boss."

"That a fact DiNozzo? Abby, how's the new tech support holding up?"

"Considering she's lasted longer than my last assistant that tried to kill me when I discovered he was trying to frame Tony? Pretty awesome." Athame's raised eye ridge had Abby chuckling in mild embarrassment. "Long story, but to sum it up, the bastard used my own craft for his dark purposes to try and frame Tony. Granted, Tony has a tendency to piss people off, mostly women, but he isn't a sadistic dismembering psychopath-"

"Abby! The case?" Gibbs demanded while at the same time forcing the two to focus on the task at hand.

"Sorry. Athame, take it away!" Abby dramatically gestured towards the asari who was more than happy to do as she asked, another warm chuckle escaping her as she tapped away at the controls in front of her.

"Sending you an enhanced image of the suspected shooter now. You were right, he's quarian." A few rapid keystrokes on the holographic keyboard later, and Gibbs and Tony's screen were filled with the image of the quarian. "We've already sent a message to the Migrant Fleet, as well as a number of databases across the galaxy. Hopefully someone might be willing to talk, otherwise we might be waiting a while if those on Rannoch don't spill the beans on this guy first."

"Semper Fi?" Gibbs asked, having a feeling he knew the answer to his own question.

"Of a sort," Athame agreed, "especially since most quarians are still considered to be never-do-wells by most everyone in the galaxy. They protect their own and make no apologies for it, and I can't blame them. It doesn't help that most of them have served in some capacity within their armed forces, more out of a sense of duty to the Fleet's continued survival, which is ingrained into them from a very young age." Athame stopped typing when something came to her and she raised a long, purple finger before going to another of the machines in the lab. "We haven't gotten the physical evidence from the shooting yet, but the scans might be enough to give us an idea of where this guy came from."

"How?"

"Every sash attached to a quarian's suit is like a fingerprint, tied to a specific ship, often of their birth, sometimes of the ship they apprentice on. We just have to match it with any holo pics from the various ships and the people who might have served on them, from the Fleet. Despite their secluded nature, the quarians leave to go on a journey that marks their capability to function as independent adults among their people. They don't go back home to the Fleet until they've proven themselves, most often by sending something useful back home."

"You're thinking by matching his sash to a specific ship, you'll be able to narrow down the search." Tony chimed in, visibly impressed by their ingenuity.

"Exactly." Athame declared proudly as she began to pull up pictures of various quarians that had made their Pilgrimages or had at least started one. Once they left the Fleet, they were easier to keep track of as a result. It'd take time, but by focusing on similar patterns and the dark color of the sash fragment, it was a much smaller search parameter that she set her personal VI to work on.

Gibbs, quietly impressed, nodded his head in approval. "Do it you two. Abby, whatcha got?"

"Not much without the actual 'bullets', but from the scan results we have, it looks like all of the shots were fired by the same gun. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say our boy got his hands on a," a few rapid clicks on the keyboard and a bit of mousework later, and Abby had another image of a sniper rifle schematic popped up on Tony and Gibbs' side of the galaxy, "an M-97 Viper. Rosenkov Materials is considered a premier Russian based armor manufacturer by the Citadel, but they also have a series of pistols, shotguns, assault rifles, and sniper rifles that are highly sought after. Their rifles make some of the old rifles seem like peashooters. Twelve rounds a clip, two-forty rounds per minute, this guy could take out a large group in a few seconds if he was a better marksmen."

"Be glad he wasn't because the results say he modified his ammo to carry an electrical charge. If you look at the bullet holes themselves, there's carbon scarring around the impact sites, and there's a notation that says there was the smell of ozone emanating from the center of each hole. Normally, tech specialists use electrical rounds to short out machines and shields, leaving the target vulnerable to further damage. But to an unshielded, living person, every shot that hit would have had electrical energy arcing through multiple individuals, and with semi-auto fire on, that would have been a lot of people."

"Like a taser?" Tony asked for clarification.

"Only if the taser would cause your muscles to violently spasm and cramp up with such force, that you'd shatter your own bones." Abby informed him and shook her head. "Wouldn't matter where he hit you, either the shot, the electricity, or the damage from either would kill you."

"Ouch. So crispy critters then, good to know." Tony muttered, his face locked in an uncomfortable grimace at the thought of what kind of damage someone like their hitman could do. "Now I'm starting to wonder if I shouldn't have called in sick. I'll be talking to Ms. Watson, boss, hopefully she and her friend will be willing to give us something before our wannabee hitman lights up the night."


The Citadel, Zakara Ward

C-Sec Office, Interrogation

March 3rd, 2195, 3:12 AM Local Time

The metallic blue walls and the chilly atmosphere was disconcerting for most people. The two way mirror on one side of the room faced a listening post, where Gibbs watched Oriana Lawson try to appear calmer than she no doubt felt. The minute shake of her hands and the way she kept nervously glancing at the door said as much. Being shot at tended to do that to most people, but he had to give her this much credit, the woman was doing better than most civilians who'd been in similar situations. With what he'd seen of her dossier though, that wasn't so surprising. The only problem was that, even with everything he'd seen since popping up in this time period, her life read like a science fiction novel, and not one he'd ever touch, even with a ten inch long stick.

"So what do you think boss?" Tony asked, his mind a whirl after what Abby and Athame had just dropped on them.

"I don't know DiNozzo, but something tells me it's not gonna be so straightforward as a nut with a heavily modified sniper rifle." Gibbs let him chew on that as he left the monitoring station, entered the hallway, and walked the short distance to the interrogation room all in the span of a few heartbeats. Oriana looked up as Gibbs sat down, and with a nod towards the other chair, she sat down across from him. "You know why you're here?"

Oriana crossed her arms once she was situated in the other chair, understandably upset at the mess she was in. "Because I'm a target, yet you're treating me like a suspect. You tell me what I'm to think of this situation Agent….?"

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And what makes you think you're a suspect?" Gibbs asked, his voice soft and calm as he leaned back in his seat while idly tapping at the omni-tool on his wrist. "Far as I saw from security footage, you were the one the shooter was after." Of course that didn't mean she wasn't right, but most people were under suspicion until proven otherwise in Gibbs' mind.

Oriana held up a finger as she began to list off her reasoning for her suspicions, "Yet the officers refused to answer my questions, I wasn't allowed to contact my sister, and I was politely told to stay here. And, everywhere I went one or two officers followed. Tell me Agent Gibbs, are all victims treated like this?"

She was sharp, he was forced to concede, and the challenging glare she sent his way told him that she wasn't afraid to stand up to him. Just what he needed, more stubborn women in his life. "Well, call them paranoid but most people tend to get a little antsy when they hear who your sister really is. But while I share their distrust, I'm not investigating Miranda. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this. Why don't you start by giving me something to work with, starting with who this man is." With that, he pulled up the enhanced image of the shooter tampering with the theater's security. He didn't react when Oriana's sharp glare flickered to slight surprise. "I see you know him."

"I hired him, yes," she admitted, "but I never thought he'd take a shot at me. He and another quarian are technical experts, helping my troupe to prepare the theater for the fundraising event being sponsored by the Sirta Foundation in two and a half days from now, and there is still a lot of work ahead of us. I'd prefer to have this situation resolved before then."

"Oh I have a feeling it will be, with you on a slab if we don't get some answers. So, you got a name for our shooter or did you not bother to look past his visor?" He asked, hoping to get her riled up so she'd let something slip.

He wasn't disappointed when she began to fume more visibly in response to his quiet antagonizing. "I have over fifty people in the troupe to watch over, many of them ex militia, which at the time of the war was the equivalent of handing a civilian a weapon and expecting them to protect themselves, if not actual military veterans, which means they require constant care if they happen to have a 'bad day'. I have caterers to organize, food deliveries to receive and put to use for the banquet dinner-"

"Do you have a name, or don't you?" He repeated his question while interrupting her tirade.

"I have a list." Oriana shot back before she sighed and began tapping furiously at the device on her arm. At least, she made the motion to do so, but she paused when she remembered it'd been taken from her upon being brought to the C-Sec building. "I'm a bit OCD about the finer details, a habit I got from my sister in case you're curious. Having my schedule upended like this has put me in a very foul mood."

"You could just give me the na-"

"I would love to, but your charming colleagues saw fit to take my omni-tool. I might contact 'unsavoury' people after all." The young woman bit back, completely unimpressed by his own glare. "You should ask them." No sooner had the words left her mouth did Gibbs' message alert pinged, which Oriana responded to by rolling her eyes. "Scratch that, it seems you have it now."

He mentally had to resist the urge to think of her as a future ex wife as Gibbs opened the message, a new BOLO having been prepared with information detailing the quarian's name, last known location, etc popping up on his arm. "Jel'na Narra vas Rannoch." He read off, as he scanned the document.

"Ship names normally precede a quarian's given name, but since they were able to reclaim the homeworld, I didn't get his ship name if that's what you're after." Leaning forward, Oriana folded her hands in front of her and sighed tiredly. But Gibbs could see that she was mustering her strength for something before she spoke anew, "I do appreciate what you're trying to do Agent Gibbs, but if Jel'na truly is the one you're after, then you're going to need help."

"Offering yourself as bait, Ms. Lawson?"

"If that's what it takes to end this nightmare. After my biological father….after our father kidnapped me and brought me to Horizon nine years ago, I was powerless. After….after it was over, I promised myself I'd never be that helpless again. I can't just sit here and do nothing Agent Gibbs. I just can't."

"I can hardly use you as bait as long as I haven't exhausted all my other options." Gibbs told her dryly, though he was silently impressed by her willingness to take such risks. "For now, it's probably best if you remain here, or at least have a police escort to ensure your safety." He could assign Ziva and a couple of other officers to the task, while having the former Mossad agent continue to probe Oriana for answers. For now though, he had something else in mind. "Tell me about your sponsor."

Oriana nodded and blew out a breath as she mentally pulled up what information she had about the Sirta Foundation. Gibbs could practically see the gears in her mind whirling much in the same way McGee or Abby's did before she said, "The Sirta Foundation is one of the best medical corporations that have done amazing work in the fields of curing diseases and genetic defects. Their efforts in bioengineering, medical research, and genetics has allowed for countless breakthroughs, and they're the ones that created medi-gel, an invaluable aid both in and off the field. They're also a non profit organization, and their reputation in humanitarian efforts is second to none. While they've had some issues in the past, they've steadily begun to pull themselves out of complete bankruptcy. While they don't typically rebuild entire colonies, the money earned during the event will go a long way in providing basic necessities to hundreds of thousands of people." It was here that Oriana stroked the bottom of her chin as she leaned back in her chair. "Which might actually explain a few things."


Anthony DiNozzo couldn't help but grin as he leaned back in the chair across from Wendy Watson, his feet planted on the table's surface as he casually observed the blind pianist while also opening up an old game app on his omni-tool, "Hah! Hehehe. Funny what you can find on the extranet these days. Turns out there's a pretty big market for old arcade games. Hell, most of our alien neighbors go gaga for 20th century 'artifacts' like a pair of Gucci shoes, Armani threads, you name it. I made a pretty penny selling off my old black leather jacket I had stuffed in a closet in Washington. You ever been?" He asked suddenly, his gaze flicking away from his game altogether just as he tapped the pause button. To the casual observer, he wasn't taking the interrogation seriously.

But those that knew him knew better than to underestimate Tony. To someone like Wendy, who relied far more on her other senses, she too could hazard a guess along the same lines. "I assume your question has a point, Agent DiNozzo?" She smiled, not unkindly, when he began to ask how she knew his name since he hadn't introduced himself, until she flicked her unseeing eyes to the two way mirror just behind him. "When you have ears like mine, you learn to filter out the extraneous noise and focus far more on the important things. I was born in the dark, but I 'see' more than anyone else because of my blindness."

"Certainly explains how you heard the guy preparing to take a shot at your boss. Good looking gal by the way, a little too high strung for my tastes. You on the other hand, would be right up my alley. Pretty, talented, intelligent according to your GPA from Grissom Academy. Graduated in the top five percent of your class from one of their liberal arts programs. Not bad."

"Thank you, but I imagine your tastes are quite...diverse." She teased even as her cheeks burned under his flattering remarks. "And yes, before you ask Agent DiNozzo, their biotics program is, in most cases, the real reason anyone attends Grissom, but people like me, who were born without eezo in their bodies, are still celebrated for our accomplishments. I had many friends during my time there, biotic or otherwise, many who would say the same thing."

"That you're much more capable than your slight disadvantage would lead the uninformed to assume, or so it says on your transcripts I have here." While she couldn't see it, Tony tapped at the information now dominating the screen of his omni-tool in lieu of his game from a moment ago. "So tell me Ms. Ray Charles," DiNozzo's faux accent he adopted and his reference to a famous blind pianist had Wendy chuckling again, which had him grinning in response, "how well do you know Ms. Lawson?"

"Well enough." She replied and sighed, her beautiful smile disappearing as they finally got to the point of all this. "She might be a bit obsessive and a perfectionist, but she is an incredibly kind and compassionate person. She also understands what it is to persevere in the face of adversity, albeit in her own right. She's dedicated, talented with a violin, and she makes a delicious pot of coffee. I can't count the number of times we've simply sat and talked about our day. I respect her a great deal, but she doesn't like to talk about her brief encounter with Henry Lawson, her biological father, not her true father. The family that adopted her years ago, according to her, are actually human compared to the man that had her grown from his own flesh."

She had certainly answered his question, but as much as Tony wanted to ask more, he had something else occupying his attention when a message from Abby popped up in front of him. "That I can understand. My old man wasn't exactly father of the year material, but I suppose I got off lightly compared to her and her older sister. I suppose we should get to the real reason of this little back and forth though. You know Jel'na Narra vas Rannoch?"

Tony frowned when Wendy shook her head in response. "I'm afraid not."

He laughed and slapped at his right leg before crossing his arms over his chest. "Ya know, I'd love to take you at your word, and if we hadn't found a few minutes of recording of you and Jel'na in front of a traditional sushi shop in Zakara Ward, I'd be happy to let this go." He was no longer smiling as he let his feet hit the floor and he leaned forward. "So why are you lying to me Ms. Watson?"

"I'm not-"

A few taps at his omni-tool and an audio file attached to the video began to play, silencing her denial on the spot. "Nine years. I didn't think I'd ever see you after what we survived."

Jel'na's distinctively synthesized voice lost little of the sincere surprise both Tony and Wendy could hear in the video recording. "I'm just impressed you remember me at all, Wendy. I was….a very different person then."

"We were children...in a very bad place." Wendy countered with a sad sigh and a shake of her head. "You protected me though as best you could despite that, and we made it, together."

"Only because we were lucky and were some of the first off the planet." Jel'na retorted angrily, but sighed as he placed one three fingered hand fell on Wendy's wrist, gently brushing his thumb against her skin. "Don't get me wrong though Wendy, I'm happy to see you again, but I'm...you shouldn't be around me. You might not like what you 'see'. I've lost too much to ever be the same little boy you once knew."

"Then tell me." Wendy softly countered as she put her free hand over his own, their ordered food forgotten as she 'stared' into his visor covered face.

"I'd...I'd like that." He replied right before Tony paused the video.

"So, what was it you were saying about not knowing him?"

"You have his voice, but you don't have his name right." Countered an audibly shaken up Wendy as her long, delicate fingers clenched into fists and relaxed. "I wouldn't have known him if I hadn't heard him talking to the other quarian tech on Oriana's team. It might have been nine years, but time does little to change one's syntax and patterns of speech. It helped that when he saw me, he recognized me almost as fast as I did him. But I don't recognize his name, which means it's a fake. …..Which means his warning had more weight than I realized, or...it might be better to say than I wanted to believe." Tony watched as Wendy heavily sighed and let her hands fall to the table, her face falling visibly at the same time as the realization her old 'friend' was the same man had shot at her and Oriana, hit home.

"Yeah I'm starting to get that impression." He was also getting the impression that Wendy truly hadn't known what Jel'na was up to. He frowned curiously though when she leaned back and put the fingers of her left hand against her temple, rubbing as if she had a headache. "Feeling alright Ms. Watson?"

"Y-yeah, at least I think so. I've just had a headache that won't go away since the shooting. You probably didn't notice, but that first shot grazed my cheek on its way past. I smelled ozone and felt the crackle of electricity on my skin as it passed, moments before the pain hit, but I was far more concerned with getting Oriana out of there to think much about it at the time." Turning her right cheek towards him, Tony made a thoughtful noise when he saw the slight, off color patch of medi-gel someone had sprayed onto the cut, sealing it to staunch any bleeding. "It's not the first time I've been shot at, or heard the sound of gunfire. Nine years ago I was on Earth when the Reapers hit. I, like countless others, lost most of my family in a single day, but I and my friend were fortunate to be picked up by a group of soldiers shortly after the invasion started. It's how I know the difference between an N7 Eagle from an N7 Hurricane just from the noise of it unfolding alone."

"Oh." What else could he say to that? Sure he hadn't been around during that time, but Tony, like the rest of the team, had certainly heard all of the horror stories involving the race of hyper advanced machines. But his gaze was soon pulled towards an alarming sight when Wendy pulled her hand away from her temple, and a clump of her dark brown hair came with it. His growing horror was matched by the look of dread on the woman's face as her hand visibly shook, knowing that something was terribly wrong.

"Wha-?" Her surprised was cut off when the door burst open, and Gibbs ran in, a large plastic container in hand just as she violently threw up the contents of her stomach.

"She's been poisoned." Gibbs explained to a stunned DiNozzo, his omni-tool showing the results of Abby's most recent batch of tests on the 'bullet' fragments she had finally received. Tony only needed to look at the screen for a moment to see the flashing word at the end of the document in question.

"Polonium 210." Breathed a horrified Anthony as his mind filled with images of radiation stricken people, their hair falling out in clumps, their bodies dying slowly, painfully as they struggled just to breathe, let alone much of anything else as lesions, cancerous growths, and worse spread throughout their bodies or opened up across their skin. Radiation sickness of any kind was no joke, and he'd seen the results for himself more than he'd like to think about. Ziva had briefly fallen in love with a man who had been exposed to radiation in an attempt to cover up a crime, so he could guess what her response would be when word reached her, if it hadn't already. Jel'na, or whatever his name was, had just jumped from dangerous to monstrous in as many seconds as he and Gibbs gingerly helped Wendy to her feet. "We need to get her to a hospital, boss."

"EMTs are already on their way DiNozzo." No surprise, but Tony was just glad that Gibbs was the one in charge as they led Wendy out of the cell and down the hall. This case had just gotten a lot more interesting.