I am so tired of having to admit I don't own them. It's depressing, really depressing. It's too bad since I'm sure I could think of lots of things for Gibbs and the Gang to get into. Oh well…It never hurts to dream.
Did I mention last chapter that things are heating up? Yeah… here we go!
Burning Clean
Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean. -- Maya Angelou
The arrival of the flight back in Washington was uneventful. All on board the plane were glad to see the Washington skyline as they finally arrived home. They were all on edge with the knowledge that a terrorist attack was imminent, and so they headed to their respective agencies to get the latest Intel and prepare plans to stop the attack.
A short drive later Gibbs and DiNozzo found themselves walking into the familiar lobby of their home away from home. Entering the bullpen they found it buzzing with activity and Ziva sitting at her desk talking on the phone in fluent Arabic and McGee typing rapidly on his computer keyboard.
Ziva finished her conversation and turned to the new arrivals.
"Good morning, I trust you had a good flight."
Gibbs ignored the question and instead asked one of his own. "I thought you were on the Seahawk."
"The Director recalled me once we realized the gravity of the threat. He thought I would be able to do more good here."
Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Glad you're back, Ziver."
Tony slumped in his desk and fought the urge to put his head down and sleep. Jet lag was dragging at every fiber of his being. He felt a light tap on the back of his head.
"DiNozzo, go ahead and find a place and lay down before you pass out from jet lag. I'm going to get some coffee." He walked from the room on a mission to caffeinate himself and Tony finally allowed his head to drop on his desk. His voice was muffled when he finally spoke.
"I feel dead."
Ziva snorted in amusement and McGee just shook his head as his fingers fairly flew across his keyboard.
Leon Vance sat at a conference table filled with agency heads. He turned his head and quietly nodded a greeting to John Maxwell and Edward Morris, the director of the FBI. He also noticed the director of FEMA and the head of Homeland Security. The heads of the ATF and the Marshal Service also sat and quietly sipped coffee as they waited for the Director of National Intelligence to appear for the briefing. He finally entered accompanied by his aide and sat quickly. He turned his sharp gaze to every person sitting at the table and asked quietly, "Do we have a plan to stop this attack?"
Director Morris leaned forward, "We have over a hundred agents ready to go at a moment's notice. We've been sharing Intelligence with Director Maxwell, and I think we've got the most up to date reports." He paused for a second and continued. "John, what does your mole say?"
"The attack is definitely planned for the peace rally. He has no way to let us know who will be chosen to wear the bomb, since that determination won't be made until the last possible second. I have several of my operatives prepared to assist in whatever way necessary to stop this bombing from happening."
The DNI turned a speculative gaze to Maxwell then asked, "These agents would be Dupree and Kort?"
"Among others, all of my people want this stopped. I'm willing to assign them TAD to whatever agency you deem most appropriate so no one will accuse us of operating in country."
The DNI nodded in agreement and looked to each of the directors. I expect all of you to play nice and share Intel with each other. Our goal is simple: we want to stop this bombing and prevent another. I expect to see some solid plans for rescue and recovery in the event we can't stop this from happening. Now, you're all dismissed, let's meet again in two hours, and I want to hear some concrete plans to stop this thing from happening."
Everyone stood up and began to leave the room. The DNI stopped one before he could slip from the room. "John, hold on one second."
John Maxwell sat back down in his chair and looked at his supervisor. "What can I do for you, Sir?"
"I know what Agent Dupree is, and she's not a 'normal' operative. What is your endgame here?"
John leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table as he thought about the question. "Sir, our hope was to eliminate this threat completely. Agent Dupree has a certain skill set that makes her extremely valuable in that kind of op."
"John, don't play word games with me. Was Ahmed a target for assassination?"
"In a nutshell? Yes he was. Agent Dupree had orders to shoot him once we were certain that we had all of his domestic contacts. Jeff Davis gave us his international contacts and also gave us his Navy contacts. NCIS picked up one in Cartagena and the other is back in Norfolk. He will be picked up this afternoon at his office."
"You know that Davis' attorney has been speaking with the Marshal Service about going into WitSec. I think the U.S. Attorney's Office is amenable since he was instrumental in catching an entire network of domestic spies."
"Sir, he tortured one of our own. You can't be serious. He gets to live the quiet life in North Dakota or where ever WitSec puts him and she has to live with what was done to her."
The DNI inclined his head in appreciation of Maxwell's feelings on the subject as he replied, "Your agent is well trained, and she's already back at work. I think you're overreacting a bit."
Maxwell gritted his teeth to keep a respectful tone of voice as he replied. "Director, the only one who's might overreact is Eve Dupree when I tell her that Davis is going to live the high life at the expense of our government instead of spending the rest of his life in a cell."
"I understand John, I really do, however the President wants this issue gone. It's an embarrassment, and he isn't interested in the press picking up on it." He stood and walked to a water cooler and got a cup. Once he filled it and took a sip he turned back to his companion. "Now, I held you back to give you the green light to terminate Ahmed if your agent gets a shot. I want it done quietly and carefully. If the Intel is to be believed then he will be there to see the results first hand. I want to make sure he does not leave the area. Are we clear?"
Maxwell nodded his head in agreement. "Crystal"
"Thanks; you're dismissed. I'll see you back here in two hours for the briefing."
Maxwell stood and left the room quickly. He had a lot to set up and limited time to do it.
Abby sat quietly and watched as Tony slept. He had come down to her lab a couple of hours ago and passed out on her futon. She didn't begrudge him the sleep, but she was concerned that he hadn't moved so much as a millimeter in the entire time he'd been there. She knew that Gibbs would be making an appearance soon, so she finally sat down next to him and gently shook him awake.
"Tony… come on wake up."
He groaned and shifted until his head was lying in her lap. "Do I have to?" His voice was rough from sleep and slightly disgruntled at being awakened.
She smiled and slowly carded her fingers through his hair. "Yeah, Gibbs'll be looking for you pretty soon. The Director is supposed to brief all of us in about half an hour." She watched him carefully, his eyes were shadowed and so she asked, "What's wrong? Don't say 'nothing' 'cause I can tell that something's not right."
He averted his gaze from hers and took a deep breath. "I'm okay…just jetlagged."
"What happened while you were gone? I was worried, and I didn't hear from Eve either. Was she with you?"
Tony sat up abruptly. He was perplexed at her question. "Abbs, why would you expect to hear from Eve?"
Abby smiled happily at Tony and replied, "We talk on the phone at least every couple of days, and when you're busy we have lunch together."
He nodded slowly as he took that bit of information in. He hadn't realized that Abby and Eve had gotten so close. "I didn't know."
"I know. She's had a hard time since…well, you know. We can talk about it since we were there together. I don't think she's had many girlfriends since she works for…" Abby's voice dropped to a mere whisper, "The Company."
Tony snorted in amusement. She had said 'The Company' the way most people said 'the IRS. He wanted to ignore her but finally answered her first question. "She wasn't 'with me' but she was working." He went silent for a few minutes and picked up one of her small, pale hands and held it in his larger one. Finally he asked, "Abby, has anyone you loved ever lied to you on purpose?"
She gazed at him with wide eyes and shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. Why?"
He dropped his eyes again then finally said, "I found out that she lied to me. I know why she did it, but…"
"Your feelings are still hurt." She finished his statement quietly.
"Yeah." His quiet confirmation tugged at her heartstrings. She decided to put a stop to this immediately.
"How long have you known what she does?" She asked the question in a completely innocent tone of voice.
He gave a small grin then answered, "Since the first week I met her. What does that have to do…?"
Abby went for the jugular. "Tony…Eve's a spy. She can't always tell what she does. I bet most of it is REALLY classified and she could probably lose her job or go to jail for talking about her assignments."
"That's true, but…"
"Let me finish. You've worked with her a lot, and you're used to hearing about the details of her assignments. Whatever this was, she obviously couldn't tell you." Abby squeezed Tony's hand then really went in for the kill. She was not going to allow his insecurity to sabotage his relationship. "I know you love her. You've told me a million times. I also know exactly how much she loves you."
He interrupted her. "How do you know? How do I know? She says she does…how do I know that it's not just another lie?"
"TONY! Stop that right now, Mister. I know because when we were in that room together and she thought she was going to die the only thing she could think about was you. She wanted me to take care of you and to make sure that you knew she loved you. Now, stop all of this self pity. We've got a terrorist to catch."
Gibbs had been standing in the doorway listening to the conversation and decided that this was an opportune moment to intervene. "Yeah we do. You awake, DiNozzo?"
"Yeah, Boss. Vance ready for us?"
Gibbs handed Tony a cup of coffee and said, "Let's go…time for our briefing."
"On your six." He stood and held out his hand for Abby. He pulled her up and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Abbs." He whispered quietly.
"Anytime…you know that."
They turned and headed towards MTAC following in Gibbs' wake.
Tobias Fornell turned to the newest member of his team and gave the woman an appraising stare. Her eyes met his and didn't waver as she stared right back. The other agents, deciding that there might be a confrontation, one by one stepped away from their volatile senior agent and the black haired woman standing across from him.
"Welcome to the FBI."
"How the hell did I end up working here and not for NCIS?"
Fornell smirked at her tone and replied, "Come on, Agent Dupree…none of the Directors wanted you working with DiNozzo on this one. You're too dangerous together."
She gave a half smile of agreement then looked at the crowd of agents in the meeting room. "Is there some reason they're avoiding us like the plague?" She allowed her gaze to span the room as she spoke.
"My people don't seem to have your backbone. They're worried I'm going to explode all over them. I don't know why they feel that way…" He looked genuinely surprised by the statement then quickly got back to business. "NCIS is going to have Gibbs on a nearby rooftop with a sniper rifle. Ziva and DiNozzo will be working the crowd, and McGee will be handling technical support. We're going to have a similar set up here. We have several snipers who will be coordinating with Jethro. You and Agent Sacks will be working the crowd together. We know that your Agency has a mole in Ahmed's cell. We need to know who he is and if you've had any contact with him recently?"
Eve narrowed her eyes and shrugged. "That's classified. You want that info then you get it from the DNI or Director Maxwell. You won't get it from me."
"We need to share intelligence Dupree."
She shook her head in disagreement. "We need to share intelligence, not intelligence assets. I'll give you hard data all day long, but I won't give you the name of any operative that might be working."
Agent Sacks walked up at that moment. He had already heard the rumors that they had a temporary agent assigned to their team for this operation. He was not looking forward to working with the newbie, especially one who was not even 'real FBI'.
Fornell watched the approach of his second in command and gave a brief smile. "Agent Sacks this is Agent Dupree. She's going to be working with you today."
She gave him a polite nod of her head and waited whilst he assessed her. Sacks finally gave her a smarmy smile and asked, "Which agency are you with?"
Eve sighed and replied, "I'm a training officer for the Company."
"A training officer? They're giving me a training officer for the biggest operation of the year?" Sacks' tone was condescending when he continued. "I suppose those who can't do…teach."
Eve smirked then snarked, "Once this operation is finished I'll be…glad…to show you just exactly what I can do, Agent Sacks." Her tone was dismissive and she turned her gaze back to Fornell. "If we're finished with this briefing I'll take my leave. I'll be back two hours before we begin."
"And you're going where?"
"Classified…I'd tell you, but…well, you get the idea." She slipped from the room seemingly oblivious to the stares following her.
Sacks turned to his superior officer. "Sir, is there any reason you paired me with her?"
Fornell sighed and gave a tolerant stare to his subordinate. "Let me tell you something, Sacks, if this goes bad we want her on our side. She's very good."
Sacks snorted and finally spat, "She's a training officer. How good could she be? Not only that…I heard a rumor she's involved with DiNozzo. That really tells me all I need to know."
Fornell just shook his head. "She's assigned to you. Deal with it and make the best of it. Oh, don't antagonize her; I'd like to keep you in one piece."
"Give me a break. I'm an FBI Agent! I can take her with one hand tied behind my back."
Fornell gave a slight smile at his second's bravado. "Whatever you say. You're dismissed until two hours prior to commencement."
Sacks nodded and left the room. Fornell watched him go then pulled out his cell phone and made a quiet call to his director.
Ahmed sat alone, the dark of his room giving him time to meditate on the mission his people were about to carry out. They had been up the previous night getting the explosive vests ready and he had prayed with each of them. He had decided, but had not yet informed his people, that they were going to send two bombs into the rally. Two of the powerful bombs would kill even more of the traitors and infidels. He gave a smile and decided to let his second know about the change in plans. This was going to be a glorious day for his people and his jihad.
Gibbs drove silently. He had sent each of the team to their respective homes so they could prepare for the upcoming operation. Tony was dozing in the seat next to him as Gibbs drove towards his apartment.
Gibbs gave a sideways stare at his Senior Field Agent and wondered exactly what had happened in Morocco. Tony hadn't said anything, but Gibbs knew that something had hurt Tony; he could see it in the expressive green eyes. He silently pulled up to the curb and shook his companion awake.
"Up and at 'em, DiNozzo. You're home."
Tony gave a sleepy nod and replied, "Thanks for the ride."
"I'll see you back in the office in exactly two hours. This assignment is huge, so make sure that you've got your head on straight when you get here. Bring all of your back-up weapons; you might need them."
"Got it, Boss. I'll see you in two." He slid from the car and quietly walked in the building, his bag slung over one shoulder and his keys jangling in his free hand.
Gibbs watched him walk towards the door, never moving the car until he saw that Tony had actually entered the building. Only then did he leave and head towards his house to spend a couple of hours working on his boat and preparing for what was to come.
About fifteen minutes later he found himself in the basement, sandpaper in hand as he worked. There was something about working the wood that allowed him to completely clear his mind and concentrate on whatever problem was at hand. He was worried about the peace rally and the potential suicide bomber. All of the agencies involved as well the local LEOs were as prepared as they could be, but Gibbs knew in his gut that this was going to get bloody. As he sanded the boat he sent a vague prayer to whoever was up there to protect his team and all of the innocents who would be exposed to the violence and madness of a zealot.
