If you like, please review. Don't mean to sound like a whiner, but it's kind of disheartening to not get any reviews or constructive criticism...

The Gibbs Says Uncle Affair

by Gale Force

Part 11.

1. Gibbs

While Tony and Ziva were at the ODU game, Gibbs and McGee were in the Situation Room that they had set up at the Oceana Hotel.

They were watching the tapes from the surveillance cameras that had covered the hotel - the parking lot, the lobby, the elevators, the stairs, and the corridor that led to the rooms of Ducky and Abby.

They'd started with the cameras that covered the corridor. McGee fast-forwarded to three o'clock, the time when Abby said they'd got back to the hotel. They watched as Abby and Ducky entered the corridor, saw them pause and speak to each other for a few seconds while they stood outside Ducky's room, then Ducky went into his room and Abby entered hers.

Then, the tape whirred on for three more hours...nothing. The occasional individual entering the hallway, walking down to their room. Couples, single men, single women. Gibbs leaned forward as a man dressed in white coveralls -- Norton's TV Service emblazoned on the back – stopped at Ducky's door, but he consulted something in his hand and then moved on two more doors down, before stopping, inserting card key into lock, and entering a room.

And that was it. At six o'clock Abby came out of her room and knocked on Ducky's door...and Ducky never answered.

"So he wasn't taken out through the hallway," Gibbs mused.

"What other way out is there?" wondered McGee. "They're on the third floor."

"The only other way out is through the window," Gibbs snapped. "Someone could have either climbed up, or rappelled down, to his room, knocked him out, then lowered him to the street."

"Wouldn't that have been kind of conspicuous?"

"It's December, McGee. Gets dark at five o'clock these days, doesn't it? And their rooms faced the rear of the hotel. The parking lot."

"That's right, boss. But...we covered the balcony. The sliding door was locked, there were no prints on the railing."

"Ducky's an Englishman...they like fresh air," said Gibbs. "So, Ducky has the sliding door open. Someone rappels down, gets into the room, knocks him out, drags him out to the balcony. Closes the door behind him, it locks. Then, continues on to the ground. Did you check the ground beneath Ducky's room?"

"No, boss."

"Then let's check it now."

They headed out into the lobby, where the clerk on duty said, "Special Agent Gibbs."

"Yes?"

"I was just about to call you. You have a package." The clerk indicated the man standing on the opposite side of the counter, clad in the red and white of Quik Delivery Service man.

That worthy held out a clipboard. "If you'll just sign on line number 17, sir."

Gibbs grabbed the clipboard, scrawled his signature, and then was handed a small package, VHS-tape sized. The label on it said only "NCIS officer in charge, Oceana Hotel."

Gibbs reached out and grabbed the arm of the delivery man.

"Who gave this to you?"

The delivery man gaped at him. "My dispatcher. Just an hour ago. We do same day service."

"What's your name?"

"Me? Mason."

"Well, Mason. I'd appreciate it if you'd hold on just a second. I want to go back with you and have a chat with your dispatcher."

Mason looked from Gibbs to McGee, then shrugged. "I guess."

Gingerly, Gibbs shook the box. Something in it rattled. Gibbs gritted his teeth. He should have Abby or someone x-ray the box before he opened it, but he didn't have time. "Stay here, McGee, with Mason. I'll be back in five minutes."

Gibbs strode out of the hotel, and into the far corner of the parking lot. There, he pulled on a pair of evidence gloves, and then popped the tab on the box - there was no tape sealing it - and opened the box. No explosion. Instead, there was a cassette tape inside, and a folded over sheet of paper.

Gibbs opened up the paper. There were five typewritten sentences:

We have your man. We will trade him for Ilya Kuryakin.

You have 72 hours to locate him, starting from 0600 tomorrow.

Failure means your man's death.

Any more publicity means your man's death.

You will be contacted.

"Who the hell is Ilya Kuryakin?" Gibbs murmured.

"Do we have a tape recorder, McGee?" he demanded as he came back into the lobby.

"Um...just in the car, boss."

"Okay. Mason, I want you to drive back to your office. We will be right behind you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Once the two cars were in motion, Gibbs put the cassette in the tape deck, and pressed play.

Immediately, they heard Ducky's voice.

"All right. Okay. Let me see here..." (The sound of the rustle of paper.)

I'm sorry...I can't read this. This handwriting is atrocious."

"Just read it," came a different voice.

"All right. Let me see.... no...I'm sorry, this handwriting is worse than mine. Good god, how do you expect me to decipher this?"

"Say you are being treated well."

"Oh. All right. Well, yes. Jethro, I am being treated well. Except for the fact that I'm being fed peanut butter sandwiches and my only entertainment is watching old television shows..."

"We agreed about the sandwiches." came the other vioce.

"That's right. Strike that comment, Jethro. The food is supposed to get better. I..."

"That's enough. Turn it off now."

And there was a loud click as Ducky turned off the tape recorder.

"Good old Ducky," McGee grinned. "He was playing that guy..."

Gibbs glanced at him coldly. "You think so?"

"Well...yeah, Boss. I mean, we found out at least that his kidnapper is English. He sounded English, didn't he, Boss?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yes, he sounded English. But c'mon, McGee. Ducky was doing his best to go off-script, but we're dealing with professionals here. If they thought anything that happened on that tape could identify them, they wouldn't have sent it."

"Well, they don't know our skills, Boss."

"That's true, McGee."

The Quik Delivery Service man drew up in front of his office, and got out of the car. Gibbs parked beside him, and he and McGee followed him into the building.

Gibbs showed his ID to the man behind the counter. He then showed the man the box - but didn't allow him to touch it.

"I want to know who brought in this box."

The clerk looked at it.

"Um...it was a guy. White guy. Sounded English, you know? Wearing a baseball cap. Had a moustache and beard. Handed it to me, said it needed to be delivered within the hour. We charge extra for that, he said no problem."

"How did he pay?"

"Cash. Hundred dollar bills."

"I want them. We'll give you a receipt."

"Uh...okay."

"Was he wearing gloves when he came in?"

"Uh, yeah. And kept them on when he pulled out the money and counted it over to me. It was in a money clip in his front pocket, not a wallet."

"What did the clip look like?"

"Oh, I dunno. I didn't really get a good look at it. It was gold, that's all I can say."

"Do you have a surveillance camera in here?"

"Sure do."

"I want that tape as well. Now, didn't he have to fill out a form?"

"No, sir. We're all on computers, now. He just told me the address, and I typed it into the screen."

"What about his address? He had to give that to you, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah." The counter rep reached under the counter, and brought up a sheet of paper - the computer printed record of that transaction.

"There ya go. Address and phone number."

After everything had been packed up and stored in Gibbs' car, Gibbs drove back to the hotel in silence.

"All right, McGee," Gibbs said as they drove. "You're going to drop me off, and then drive all this material back up to Abby. I want her to get to work on everything first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Boss."

"And tell her to keep it under her hat. This team alone is looking for Ducky."

"But...we've only got 72 hours, Boss! We need the FBI, the CIA..."

"We don't know who this Kuryakin is, McGee. If he's a person of interest to the FBI or CIA, they might not feel like helping us. We don't have time to waste persuading them to not get in our way."

"Yes, Boss."

You've got a digital recorder in your gear?"

"Yes."

"Okay - record Ducky's tape for me, first. I want to be able to play that for Tony and Ziva."

After McGee had left with his cargo, Gibbs settled down in his hotel room in front of his laptop. He knew enough about computers to use Google search. Perhaps this Kuryakin fellow was as simple as a defecting Russian politician...

By the time Tony and Ziva returned, at about 10:30, he had had no luck.

"Boss," said Tony, waving his foam finger, "we've got news."

"About time, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped. "We've got 72 hours to find Ducky, so the news you've got better be good."

"Seventy-two hours?" said Ziva. "You've heard from the kidnappers?"

"Yes. I'll fill you in in a minute. Tell me what you've got, first."

Tony did so.

Gibbs wiped his face with his hand.

"Kuchenko is integral to our investigation," he said. "We're going to have to figure out a way to talk to him tomorrow."

"How, Boss?"

"Think about it, Tony, and tell me tomorrow."

"You've got it, Boss." said Tony.

"Now, I'll tell you what I've got."