7 On the ground

They're met at the airport by a well-dressed tall young man who introduces himself as Special Agent Tawan Allen. "We spoke on the phone, sir."

"Don't sir me," Gibbs says. "You have enough time to stand around on airport tarmacs, Special Agent Allen?"

"I've been waiting about five minutes, Special Agent Gibbs. I didn't think I could solve the crime in those particular five minutes. And you might solve the crime in the time you spend otherwise getting lost between here and the office."

"We don't get lost," Gibbs says, but he thinks: Good man. No wonder DiNozzo likes him. "There many mean streets in Indianapolis, Special Agent Allen?"

"Enough. But you could probably learn a lot just walking the beat in Mayberry RFD. If you want to."

"So what have you learned walking the beat in Rota?"

"Nice town. Hard hit by the recession, still not recovered. Base is very important, but it's not the happiest relationship."

"NCIS made that relationship worse?"

"Not as far as I can see. We get along pretty well with the LEOs. But they're toothless. Prosecuting property crimes against Americans isn't a priority."

"Would you say something bad about your boss, Allen?"

"If I had something bad to say."

"I want to go to the office first and see what you've got. Then to the scene."

"Did you want to stop by the hospital?"

"Not yet."

When they get to the office, it's empty but for one young woman who introduces herself as Special Agent Sarah Cosgrove. She's familiar, but Gibbs can't put a finger on it. "Where's Agent David?"

"Gone to the hospital. Tony's out of surgery."

"Tell me what you've got."

They start in the forensics lab which is, as he'd feared, rudimentary. Abby looks ashen, but she bucks up when she's handed real evidence. The knife is sticky with dried blood and the handle is ribbed rubber, a lousy surface for finding prints. Still, Abby loves a challenge. "Did you print the ambo guys?"

"I don't know."

Abby rolls her eyes. "Well, please do. I'll need them to eliminate them."

"Do you think you can get prints off that?" Gibbs asks.

"Have I ever let you down?"

The shirt is stiff with dried blood, as is the tie, and bits of the jacket and pants as well, and the pants shredded below the knees. "Looks like he was dragged by the car."

"We think so. He was found about a hundred feet north of the sidewalk in front of the school."

"I don't know if I can get much off the clothes," Abby says. "Tony loves his tropical weight wool, but it's not good fabric for prints. Did they check under his hands at the hospital?" She turns to Gibbs. "They don't wash your hands in the emergency room, do they? This is Spain, I don't know how they do things."

"Something else for Agent Cosgrove to find out," Gibbs says. He turns to Allen. "Still working the carjacking angle?"

"It's our best lead at the moment."

"Anything personal or more specific? Threats to the office in general, or to DiNozzo in particular? His wife? You check the phone logs and email?"

"Didn't find anything unusual in the phone logs. Nothing unusual in Ziva's email or cell. Haven't been able to check Tony's."

"McGee."

"On it, boss."

Allen sighs. "I'm sure we look like a bunch of rubes to you. But in the last seven hours we've canvassed the scene, spoken to witnesses, gotten traces on all the relevant phones, reworked the chop shop, and run down 30 hits on the BOLO. We're working through our casefiles. Also, we checked on the whereabouts of that ME assistant."

"Where is he?"

"Still in jail in Maryland. We asked the guards to toss his cell just in case. Haven't heard back. It's a longshot, but hits have been arranged from jail before. If you have some other names from before Rota, we'll start running those down too."

"DiNozzo had some mob people angry at him a few years back."

"More than a few years. If this was Naples, I'd say it was lot more likely. Not much Cosa Nostra in Rota."

"Where there's docks, there's trouble."

"Yes, but the organized crime we have here is more likely to be under North African or Russian influence, not Italian. And our work doesn't take us to the civilian docks very often."

"A little girl has been missing for over eight hours, Allen. I'm interested in evidence, not your conclusions."

"We know the stakes, sir. We know the little girl. And her father."

"Just so long as you're not letting that slow you down."

DiNozzo's office is locked. Gibbs gestures impatiently for Allen to open it. Inside, it looks much as it had on the MTAC screen, with the plastic frame flashing its cheerful images. DiNozzo's filing system hasn't improved much. He rifles through the loose papers and the inbox, but nothing catches his eye. Something is nagging at him, something from the MTAC conference. "What about the carrier group?"

"Tenders are already in view. We expect the main body to reach here tomorrow."

"Anything special about this arrival?"

"Just that it's large and late. The group's been in Turkey assisting earthquake recovery efforts. These guys are low on supplies and can't make the Atlantic crossing without a long stay. We expect the call to run about ten days."

"Was DiNozzo worried about the call?"

"We're short handed. But there might have been more. We were supposed to have a 10am meeting this morning. I think the call was the main item."

Gibbs looks up. "A campfire?"

Allen suppresses a smile. "Yes, sir, a campfire."

"DiNozzo bring s'mores?"

"Donuts. Or what passes for donuts around here."

Ah, a locked drawer. Gibbs picks it quickly, but there's nothing there besides some clean shirts and socks, a tube of superglue, and some nail polish remover. Locking that drawer would be DiNozzo's idea of a joke. He looks over the office and again has the sense that there's something from the MTAC conference that he should remember. The slideshow on the plastic frame is similar to the one in Abby's lab, but the frame is different. Again, the DiNozzos wash cars and watch football. "Let's get to the scene."

Abby stops them on the way out. "Gibbs, shouldn't you see Ziva?"

"Later. I need to see the scene in daylight. You and McGee got enough to keep yourselves busy?"

"We need that car," Abby says.

"I will get you the car as soon as I can. As soon as you're done with the knife you get over to the hospital and see if it's worth swabbing for skin samples." He kisses Abby on the top of the head and leaves her to her bloody knife and lousy crime lab.