Consequences of Love and War: Chapter 12
A/N: Sorry about the delay since last chapter. Life has been amazingly hectic, and the sad thing is, all I do is go to work. Ugh. I was up all last night on call, because it seemed like every time I managed to get everything settled to the point where I could lay down, my pager was going off again. I'm not happy with the entire fourth and seventh floors of Walter Reed.
Anyway, enough about that. When we last checked in with the story, Peter Kirkan was going through old conversations with his wife, trying to find clues as to who might have abducted her and why. Tony and Ziva are waiting to find out if they can proceed with their plan to help Mossad Officer Raanan Thal and her operative, Ezra Hardoon, in exchange for any information they might have on terrorists in the area in general and anyone who might have been interested in Dr. Aachen in particular, and have come to the chilling conclusion that whatever reason a terrorist cell would have to want Dr. Aachen, it would not be a good one. And Gibbs, in his efforts to look into every possibility and leave no stone unturned, asked the Intelligence department at NCIS to come up with a dossier on Kirkan himself.
Despite his late night in the office the night before, Gibbs was among the first to the squad room the next morning, his customary cup of coffee fresh enough to still be steaming as he stepped off the elevator. Everything on his desk was exactly as he had left it only a few hours before—it had taken them awhile, but the cleaning crew eventually learned to keep a wide radius around the supervisory special agent's desk—and his eyes went immediately to the print-out of Intelligence's report on Kirkan. He barely stifled a sigh as he stared at the offending document, both at the lingering feeling of having invaded the privacy of one of his former Marines and how little those pages had revealed. It was just as he suspected and Kirkan all but confirmed; he wasn't interesting enough to have enemies, not of the sort who would make their way to Afghanistan to abduct his wife. After leaving the Corps at twenty-four, he majored in physics and minored in English literature at the University of Texas. There were a couple of jobs with little significance, just doing this and that, before he went back to school for his Master's degree in journalism. He was hired by Stars and Stripes before the ink was dry on his diploma and made his way to DC, where he eventually met Dr. Alyse Aachen. Gregory Aachen's first novel, Burn Away, hit the shelves a month before their wedding; his second, Secret Lives of War, on their first anniversary. Skyscrapers at Dawn came out after that, and the fourth, One Way Street, was still on The New York Times' bestseller's list, with rumors of a fifth in the works. And if the Intelligence department could be trusted, Kirkan's statement the day before about being able to afford his own coffee was so much of an understatement that it was almost laughable. It would be a safe bet to say that Alyse Aachen wasn't a Navy doctor because they needed the money.
After a few moments of staring silently at the lengthy document, not moving except to intermittently bring his cup of coffee to his mouth, Gibbs made a decision. He gathered the pile of papers and strode decisively toward the elevator.
"Ah, Jethro." Dr. Donald Mallard's voice drifted out as the doors to Autopsy slid open to reveal the supervisory field agent. Although Gibbs hadn't been expecting to see the medical examiner in so early, he wasn't necessarily surprised by it, either. Neither man could have ever been accused of keeping conventional hours. What did surprise him was that instead of a body displayed on the cold stainless steel autopsy table, Ducky had a small library of books, newspapers, and loose sheets of papers.
"Need you to do a psychological autopsy for me, Duck," Gibbs declared, not caring what the elderly Scotsman had already been working on.
"Dr. Alyse Aachen?" Ducky said mildly, clearly not surprised by the request. "Or perhaps Peter Kirkan?" Gibbs frowned, prompting him to add, "Abigail was in here last night, telling me about your newest case. Rather, she was telling me of her frustrations with her work on your newest case. She is not having as much success with the new software from the FBI as she had hoped." Gibbs stifled a sigh at that news; Abby was one of the best, so if she couldn't do it, it wasn't likely anyone else could. "I took the liberty of looking into our missing young physician before taking off for home last night, and I was intrigued enough by what I had found that I returned early this morning to continue."
"And what did you find, Duck?"
"About Dr. Aachen, I am sure nothing that you would find relevant. It is her relationship with Mr. Kirkan that I find interesting." He lapsed into silence for a minute as he searched for whatever it was that proved his point. "I understand that you knew him from your days in the Corps." It was a statement, not a question, one born of as much idle curiosity as a genuine need to know.
"He was one of my Marines," Gibbs said as a confirmation.
"In Kuwait?" Ducky asked when his friend didn't offer any further explanation.
"That relevant, Duck?"
"I am merely gathering as much information as possible for my psychological analysis." The two men were silent for several long minutes before Gibbs spoke again.
"He was part of Desert Shield and Desert Storm," the former gunnery sergeant finally offered. "Scout sniper. He was a spotter."
"Was he any good?"
"Made it through the training."
Ducky smiled slightly at Gibbs' explanation. "I suppose he must have had a way with words." Gibbs frowned.
"Because he's now a writer?"
"Well, yes," the medical examiner admitted, "But I was thinking more about how he managed to court his wife after this article he wrote, although it is possible that she did not know about it. According to the timeline I've constructed of Dr. Aachen's career, she was a flight surgeon aboard the Vinson when it was published. He wrote an editorial about how unprepared Navy physicians were when they were sent to the field."
"She knew," Gibbs confirmed. "That article was how they met."
"Hmm," Ducky murmured. "Which gets back to my original question of how he managed to ask her out for a date after writing the article. I don't know if you've read it, Jethro, but despite being very eloquently written and supported with good research and solid facts, it is rather inflammatory against Navy physicians. He even states his own experiences in the Navy healthcare system as an example." Ducky frowned at the words on the page as he studied the article. "He must have been in extreme pain," he murmured.
"Didn't think he was injured in combat."
"Oh, no, it wasn't in combat," Dr. Mallard was quick to explain. "It was shortly after Mr. Kirkan completed his basic training. He had gone into sick call several times with complaints of leg pain and tripping while he ran, earning diagnoses ranging from malingering to lack of conditioning to tight muscles. It wasn't until he saw a senior orthopedic surgeon that he was diagnosed with stress fractures of the tibia and bilateral compartment syndrome."
"He had scars," Gibbs recalled with a frown. "On his calves."
"Three vertical scars on each leg?" Ducky asked. Gibbs nodded. "Bilateral triple-compartment fasciotomies," the doctor explained, as if that would make any sense to Gibbs. "The pressures from necrotic muscle in his legs were so great that they had to be cut open to relieve it. It is amazing he was able to run at scout sniper standards after that." He drifted off slightly before resuming at the previous volume and tempo. "It is unfortunately not uncommon among active duty personnel. Probably one out of a hundred visitors I have to this room bear similar scars."
"Ran just fine, from what I recall, Duck."
"A truly remarkable recovery." He frowned as he tried to remember the point he was trying to make. "His own physical accomplishments aside, Jethro, it is not what got my attention about the situation."
"Her reaction to the article."
Ducky pointed with his finger for emphasis. "Exactly. As I said, it was very inflammatory against Navy physicians, especially those sent into the field immediately after internship, a group which included Dr. Aachen. Young doctors are very sensitive about their abilities—and rightfully so. For many, including our missing lieutenant, their entire lives have been about becoming doctors and learning to heal patients. To have someone on the outside, someone who did not go through the hellish experience that seems to define American medical schools, tell them that they failed at that, is tantamount to a personal attack—it is as to be told that their lives had no meaning at all, which would not be easy for anybody to take."
"No," Gibbs said, beginning to see what Ducky was saying.
"Which goes back to my question of him having a way with words. To start with that being Dr. Aachen's first impression of him, as someone who does not know what she had gone through but judges her about it anyway, to end up married… Well, let it suffice that I would not want to be in a formal debate against Mr. Kirkan."
Gibbs smiled slightly. "He was a quiet kid," he began, recognizing Ducky's not-so-subtle attempts at information. He was just a kid, too—twenty years old, his dark hair shorn into the standard high-and-tight, still standing stiffly at attention, fresh from scout sniper training. "Didn't talk much, at least not to me. Spent all of his time with his shooter. Two of them did everything together. One didn't go to the latrine without the other close behind." Corporal Lindholm and Lance Corporal—later Corporal—Kirkan couldn't be more different; Kirkan was young and quiet, dark-haired with dark eyes, respectful of superiors to the point of being almost nervous in their presence. Lindholm was blond, fair, and freckled, a few years older, three and a half years of college under his belt before he had gotten bored or frustrated with the entire process. Those extra years being on his own had made him more knowledgeable of the way the world worked than his younger spotter, having recognized boot camp and sniper training for the mental games that they were. He was loud and talkative, amusing everyone who surrounded him with his sarcastic humor and endless monologue—not unlike DiNozzo, now that Gibbs stopped to think about it. Like the rest of his men from Kuwait, Gibbs had no idea what had happened to Lindholm after he left that country. "Both were good shooters, but Kirkan was the brains. Could do those calculations in his head in seconds."
"Which was why he was the spotter."
Gibbs nodded. "Wouldn't have thought then that he'd become a writer."
"I do not think he did, either," Ducky pointed out, reminding Gibbs that Kirkan majored in physics when he went to college. "But life takes interesting turns sometimes." He didn't have to say what both were thinking: when Gibbs first met Kirkan, he never would have imagined that he would leave the Corps and join NIS, later NCIS. Or lose his wife and daughter in the process.
"Did you find anything useful, Duck?" Gibbs asked abruptly, having had enough of the trip down memory lane for one morning. Not taken aback by the sudden change in topic, or in Gibbs' tone, Ducky replaced the newspaper he had in his hands and picked up one of the novels in its place.
"Only that Mr. Kirkan loves his wife very much," he stated. "I have not yet had the opportunity to read any of his fictional work, but Timothy has read them in great detail and filled me in on the characters and story lines. Unlike our own Thom E. Gemcity, Gregory Aachen's novels do not fit into a series—each book stands on its own, at least to date, but there are definite patterns, at least in the characters. Twice—in his first novel, Burn Away, and then in the second, Secret Lives of War—the main character is either enlisted in the military or formally so, and is involved in a romantic relationship with an officer."
"Like Kirkan and Dr. Aachen."
"Yes. I would imagine that he was initially uncomfortable with this, at least subconsciously, if not consciously, and wrote it into his novels as a way to normalize it himself—if other enlisted men had fallen in love with female officers, it becomes acceptable for him to do the same." He paused briefly. "There are other recurring themes with other characters as well—a man with some sort of physical disability who always ends up with a very beautiful and often exotic woman, a woman very focused on her professional life and much less so with her personal life—but most noticeable are the descriptions of the lead characters' love interests. These women are always described as petite with blue eyes, and strong-willed with a sense of humor, which I believe would apply to Dr. Aachen as well."
"So he's writing his wife into his novels."
"Well, yes," Ducky replied, frowning slightly at the simplified explanation. "This is not a new writing technique by any means—just look at Timothy's novels." Gibbs smiled thinly at the medical examiner's words. "But fictionalized characters aside, I would like to direct your attention to the dedication pages of his novels." He opened Burn Away to a page near the beginning and handed it over to Gibbs. "This was published shortly before their wedding and speaks of how he is looking forward to their life together." Burn Away was replaced with Secret Lives of War in Ducky's hands, and again it was opened to the dedication page. "His second novel was released exactly on their first wedding anniversary, which I believe was intentional. I don't know if you're familiar with traditional anniversary gifts—"
"Been married a couple of times, Duck," Gibbs interrupted.
"Ah, yes, but you never struck me as one who would stick to the historic pattern of how couples celebrate wedding anniversaries. The first is to be a gift of paper; or, in Kirkan's case, 415 sheets of paper." He handed it over to Gibbs, who again silently read the words there, dedicating the book to his wife in a rather romantic manner. He wondered for a second if any of his other former Marines from Kuwait knew who Gregory Aachen was and had read those words. If so, he was pretty sure they would still be teasing Kirkan mercilessly.
"The point, Duck?" he finally asked.
"I know you are exploring the terrorism angle to this, in light of Dr. Aachen's work in the detainee center, but I do not think that you should exclude other explanations for our young physician's abduction. It is no secret that Gregory Aachen's novels have been very successful, and anyone familiar with them could see how he felt for his wife."
Gibbs frowned slightly as he picked up Ducky's train of thought. "You think someone kidnapped Dr. Aachen to collect a ransom from Kirkan," he stated.
"I think you should not exclude the possibility," Ducky repeated. "It is not unbelievable that word would have spread about the identity of Dr. Aachen's husband and his occupation. We have both been in military camps at time of war, Jethro. You know that there are no secrets."
"And no end to the frustration of men putting their lives at risk on a daily basis with little reward," Gibbs added, catching on to what Ducky was saying. A couple of young enlisted soldiers, sailors, airmen, or Marines with more guts than common sense could conceivably think that holding an officer until her husband paid a handsome ransom wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "One problem, though, Duck," he continued. "Nobody's said a damned thing about a ransom."
"Ah," medical examiner said before shrugging slightly. "I did not say it was a perfect theory."
"We'll look into it," Gibbs promised. He gestured toward the autopsy table, filled with papers and books. "In the meantime, keep doing… whatever it is that you've been doing."