One Less - Part 37

by joykatleen

They put Rosario in the middle seat of the Escalade, Ziva beside him. In the back seat out of Rosario's sight, Gibbs pulled out the digital recorder he'd picked up off the desk as they left. The fact that Rosario had kept talking to the Captain after he asked for a lawyer meant he wanted to talk. Given the right inspiration, he'd probably give them everything. But they'd have to be careful. They were already walking a fine line, Constitutionally speaking. Rosario had asked for a lawyer. There could be no more questioning unless he waived his rights. Voluntarily, and without coercion.

Gibbs clicked on the recorder and set it on the seat beside him, tucking the back end of it under his braced leg to keep it from sliding around. The ball was in Rosario's court. If he said nothing, the agents wouldn't either. If he decided to talk, this way they'd have proof he hadn't been coerced.

They hit a speed bump and Gibbs cringed as the shock of it echoed up his leg. The rush across the gym hadn't done his knee any good. In the heat of the moment he'd put weight on it for a few steps. As a result it felt almost as bad as it had the first night. He pulled out the bottle of pills Ducky had given him and tried to remember what the doctor had said about the dosage. Two now, and two more in two hours if the headache wasn't gone? Gibbs had taken two at 7:00 this morning, and it was certainly more than two hours later. He tossed two back, washing them down with the last of a bottle of water he'd been drinking during the drive down. He peered into the pill bottle: plenty left for the next couple days. Gibbs supposed he'd eventually have to fill the prescription he'd gotten from the hospital, but there was no hurry.

"Look, can't we work this out?" Rosario said as they made their way across the station. "I mean, we didn't mean for him to die."

"Shut up," Gibbs said from behind him. There was no demand in his tone. He caught DiNozzo's eye in the rearview mirror and nodded slightly, getting one in return. Rosario tried to turn in his seat, but with his hands cuffed behind him and his seatbelt snug, he couldn't quite see Gibbs. For a minute or more, there was silence in the car before Rosario spoke again.

"I'm telling you, it was an accident," he said.

"I said, shut up," Gibbs repeated in the same flat tone. DiNozzo leaned slightly sideways to get Ziva in the mirror. He nodded at her and her eyes narrowed for a second before she understood. They'd played this game before.

"You asked for a lawyer, so we can't talk to you," DiNozzo said.

"It is really in your best interest to be quiet," Ziva cautioned him. "You and your friends decided to kill that sailor, and the navy does not forgive premeditated murder."

"We didn't plan to kill him," Rosario objected. "We just wanted to teach him a lesson."

"I won't tell you again, Corporal," Gibbs said. "You need to shut up. You asked for a lawyer. We're not allowed to talk to you. Which is really too bad."

"What do you mean, too bad?" He tried to look around again.

"Sorry. Can't say anything more," Gibbs said.

"What if I change my mind. I can do that, right?"

"Change your mind about what?" Ziva asked.

"Maybe I don't need a lawyer."

"Oh, I think you do," DiNozzo said. "Premeditated murder of an active-duty service member. What's that likely to get him, Officer David?"

"With a good lawyer, perhaps 25 to life. But a hate crime will get special circumstances. It is probable that he will receive the death penalty."

"Death?" Rosario said. His voice cracked. "No way. It wasn't murder. It was an accident. We didn't mean to kill him."

"Do you want to talk to us about it?" Ziva asked.

"Yes."

"Without your lawyer?" DiNozzo asked.

"Yes. If I explain why we did it, you'll understand it was necessary. We really had no choice."

"Alright. Let's make it official," DiNozzo said. He pulled into a parking area and turned in his seat to face the back of the SUV. He left the engine running, the heat on low. "I need to advise you of your rights."

DiNozzo ran through the Article 31s. When he was done, Rosario agreed to waive them. DiNozzo confirmed – on tape – that no one had forced him to change his mind about a lawyer, that he wasn't being coerced, that they hadn't promised him anything in exchange for the waiver. He reminded Rosario that he could again change his mind at any time, ask for a lawyer again, and all questioning would stop. When Gibbs was satisfied their bases were covered, he gave DiNozzo the high sign to proceed.

They asked Rosario to tell his story, and said nothing as he explained the mission: to rid the Navy of the fags that were destroying it. It was important. They had to do it. Didn't the agents understand the damage these people were doing to the armed services? To the country itself? Through it all, Rosario stuck to his story. He'd only been involved in the attack on Ferrara, and they hadn't meant to kill him.

"So you say you had nothing to do with the attack on Master Chief Goetz?" Ziva asked. "Or any of the previous attacks?"

"No, ma'am. I don't know anything about the previous missions. I was only recruited for this last one."

"Do you know who attacked the Master Chief?" she asked.

"Lewiston. Maybe Fazio, I'm not sure. For sure another guy, a sailor named Curren."

"So how'd you get involved?" DiNozzo asked.

"Doc came to me, asked if I wanted to help."

"Petty Officer Lewiston?" DiNozzo clarified.

"Yes."

"Help what?" Ziva asked.

"Help get rid of the fag," Rosario said with a strange look, as if it was obvious. "He was making moves on his bunkmates, freaking everybody out. He had to go."

"Who told you he was making moves?" Ziva asked.

"Doc. He said there'd been complaints."

"Complaints to who?" DiNozzo asked.

Rosario shrugged. "I don't know."

"Why not just turn him in?" DiNozzo asked. "Under DADT, he would have been discharged. Problem solved."

Rosario shook his head. "Doc said he was hands off. Under the Captain's personal protection. There's no way the faggot would have been discharged. He was free to keep infecting other people with his disgusting ideas, unstopped. He was the Captain's personal assistant, for God's sake. No knob jockey deserves that."

"That's enough!" Gibbs suddenly barked from the back seat, making Rosario jump. "The language is unnecessary. We get it."

There was silence in the car for several moments. When DiNozzo continued, his tone was understated.

"Tell us about Ferrara. Exactly what you did."

"Like I said before, Doc had information he was going into Washington. We waited for him at Amtrak. When he showed up, we followed him all night. We couldn't go into those places he was going, so we waited to get him alone. He left the last place with some other… guy… in a taxi. They drove into that neighborhood. We had no idea where he was going. It certainly wasn't anywhere a normal person would want to be in the middle of the night."

"What happened then?" Ziva asked. From the back seat, Gibbs was amazed at the level of Rosario's stupidity. This idiot seemed to have no idea he was giving them everything they needed to put him away for murder.

"The taxi pulled up suddenly," Rosario said. "We were following about a block back, we'd turned our lights out so they wouldn't notice us. Ferrara got out. It left him there. Maybe they'd had a quickie in the backseat. I don't know. He started walking back our way and we saw our chance."

"So?" DiNozzo said. "What'd you do?"

"We waited in the entryway of that abandoned warehouse. When he passed, Fazio called out to him, asked if he had a phone, said there was someone hurt inside. Ferrara was nervous, but Fazio sold it and in the end he did the Boy Scout thing and stepped over, offering his phone. Lewiston hit him with the flash-bang, we dragged him inside, and we took him to school."

"And it never occurred to you that you were killing him?" Ziva asked.

"No. I swear. He was fighting us, hard. I have to give it to him. He might have been a pansy, but he fought like a man. At first, anyway. We beat on him until he stopped fighting, then we left. He was alive when we left. Crying like a little girl."

The agents fell silent again. Without knowing it, each of them was fighting the urge to throttle Rosario right where he sat.

"If Lewiston recruited you, who recruited him?" Gibbs asked from behind Rosario. The Marine again tried to look back, and was again unable. He spoke at Ziva.

"No one," Rosario said. "He was running the mission."

"Really?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah. He put the whole thing together. He knew Ferrara was going ashore on Saturday, told us we could catch him alone, teach him a lesson."

"Lewiston was in charge?" DiNozzo repeated.

"Yeah."

"Of just this one, or of the whole mission?" he asked.

"He's been in charge of the mission all along. The target last spring was his first aboard the Roosevelt, I think." DiNozzo caught Gibbs' eye in the mirror and Ziva turned to look back at him. The three agents silently conversed. That didn't jive with what they already knew. As far as they knew, this 'mission' was born and bred on the Roosevelt. There weren't any known victims among FAST Company, or any other unit Lewiston had served with. Maybe this guy didn't know everything. Gibbs gave his agents a look that said 'run with it.'

"How did he identify the targets?" Ziva asked, turning back to Rosario.

"He's really outgoing. Has lots of friends, sailors and Marines. He'd hear talk, then do some investigating. Sometimes it was just talk, and he didn't approve a mission. But when he was able to confirm it, the target went on the mission list."

"So you're saying Petty Officer Lewiston picked the targets, set up the attacks, then participated in the last two? All despite his PTSD?" DiNozzo asked.

Rosario shrugged again. "It wasn't PTSD. It took him awhile to bounce back, that's all. That IED attack hit us all hard, in different ways. He couldn't be a medic anymore, but it didn't kill him. The mission to remove the Master Chief happened while he was still coming to terms with it. But it came off without a hitch."

"Without a hitch," DiNozzo repeated, for lack of anything better to say.

"They taught him the lesson, he left the ship, he's not corrupting young sailors anymore. Mission accomplished."

Silence fell. DiNozzo and David weren't sure where to take it from here, and waited for a sign from Gibbs.

"Was there anyone else who took a lead role in the mission?" Gibbs asked.

"No. I told you. It was Doc's plan. He recruited the personnel, found the targets, picked the dates, everything."

"No officer calling the shots?"

"Hell no. The officer corps on the Roosevelt has bought into the liberal crap the President is selling. They'd have never authorized this mission. They're useless."

Gibbs filed that away for future reference. If the priest knew McNally – or anyone else on the ship's senior staff – was tolerant of Ferrara being gay, it could change things. The UCMJ didn't specifically address acts of omission by officers who may or may not know their subordinates are gay, but if the right people wanted to make a thing out of it, and they had evidence, it could cause a problem for McNally.

"You have anything else to tell us?" DiNozzo asked when he saw Gibbs was done.

"That's all. Just that we were doing the right thing. I'm sorry he's dead. We didn't mean to kill him. But he should have just resigned when he had the chance."

"Alright." DiNozzo turned back around and put the truck in gear.

"So what happens now?" Rosario asked.

"Now we take you to the brig, and charge you with murder," Gibbs said.

"What? I told you, we didn't mean to kill him! He was alive when we left him."

"And we believe you. But it is still murder," Ziva said. "And we very much appreciate you helping our investigation."

"No, no, no! You can't!" Rosario objected, and started to struggle against the cuffs.

"Calm down, Corporal," Ziva said. When Rosario continued to fight, Ziva grabbed his elbow. She dug her fingers into the pressure point there until Rosario cried out and stopped struggling, leaning away from her.

"I said, calm down, Corporal," Ziva repeated calmly. Rosario froze and she loosened her hold a little. "Better."

"I want a lawyer," he said.

"You should have stuck with that," Gibbs said.

xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx

They booked Rosario into the Norfolk brig, ensuring he'd have no communication with anyone other than his lawyer. That done, DiNozzo tried calling Ramey, the sailor who'd had a fight with the priest, but got no answer. Gibbs told DiNozzo to call McGee and have him see what he could do about tracking Ramey down. And to find the third sailor Rosario said had been involved with Master Chief Goetz's assault.

With McGee working on it, the agents headed across the base for a late lunch. Or early dinner, depending on your point of view. In addition to its many mess halls, Norfolk Station featured a good selection of national chain fast food restaurants and one small, family-owned diner. The agents chose the latter.

The table they chose in the nearly-empty diner had a view of Willoughby Bay. Shortly after they sat to eat, DiNozzo noticed a large ship crossing the mouth of the bay and pointed it out. Gibbs checked his watch. Only an hour behind schedule, the carrier group was pulling out.

They took their time eating, watching the ships pass. Gibbs was trying to figure out where to go next. They likely had all they were going to get out of Rosario. It was plenty. They certainly had him dead to rights. His testimony could be used against Fazio and Lewiston, but only if Rosario took the stand at trial. Fazio might give them something more if they pinned it all on Lewiston, but Gibbs wasn't sure he felt like dealing with Fazio's lawyer tonight. Morning would be soon enough. Knowing that Lewiston had been involved in at least two attacks, and according to Rosario was claiming to be running the mission, they might be able to use that to get more out of Radkoff. As far as they knew, he hadn't asked for a lawyer yet, and he might be amenable to another conversation with Ziva.

"I want you to fly back to DC tonight," Gibbs said to her, interrupting a teasing exchange between his agents.

"Okay. Why?" Ziva asked.

"Talk to Radkoff. Use what we got from Rosario, see what else you can get from him."

"Alright. What will you and Tony be doing?"

"Waiting for Lewiston to show up. I might need you back here tomorrow night if we don't find him."

"I understand."

After they finished eating, Gibbs had DiNozzo drive them around to the flight control office. There was no conversation on the way, and in the silence Gibbs again caught Ziva staring at him with that look of guilt in her eyes. He figured now was as good a time as any to deal with it. Gibbs sent DiNozzo inside to see if there was a seat available on a military shuttle back to D.C. After he left, Gibbs caught and held Ziva's eye in the mirror. She didn't look away this time. He waited.

"Well come on," Gibbs said after a silent minute had passed. "You got something to say, say it."

Ziva turned around in her seat. She opened her mouth then shut it again. After another moment, she nodded and spoke.

"I know how you feel about apologies, Gibbs, but I want you to know I am truly sorry for injuring you."

"You didn't know it was me," Gibbs said. "If I'd have been one of them, it would have been the absolute right thing to do."

"I could have killed you," she said, and he thought he heard a tremble in her voice.

"You could have," Gibbs agreed. The muscle in the side of his neck twitched under the bandage. "But you didn't."

"But I did hurt you," she said.

"Yes, you did. It wouldn't have been a big deal if my knee wasn't already damaged."

"It is a big deal. McGee told me you will need surgery." The tremble was clear now.

Gibbs inwardly groaned. He was going to have words with his junior agent. "Ziva, this was not your fault. I made a stupid mistake. I knew you were blind and deaf, and I came at you out of nowhere. I'm probably lucky to have survived it."

Ziva cleared her throat. "You fight very well," she said with a small smile. "I have seen you subdue suspects, and I often wondered how well I would do against you in a true fight. But I think it is likely you were holding back."

"I knew it was you," Gibbs said. "And I don't wonder anymore."

"How long will you be off work, once you have the surgery?" Ziva asked. Gibbs shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. This thing is going to come together in the next couple of days, and I need your head in the game, not worrying about my knee."

Ziva gave a small sigh. "I understand."

"Good. Go back to DC tonight, talk to Radkoff in the morning," Gibbs said. "We need names to make the link from Hutchinson to Brisbin to Goetz. Can you get them?"

"I will do my best," Ziva said.

"Make sure it's good enough," Gibbs said. That ought to keep her occupied.

DiNozzo returned with the news that there were no seats available tonight. Navy brass of all ranks had come to Norfolk from D.C. for the Roosevelt's departure, and most of them were heading back tonight. Knowing this was not going to go over well with the bean counters at headquarters, Gibbs told Ziva to take a commercial flight.

After dropping her at the airport, Gibbs called McGee again. There had been no sighting of Lewiston or Fazio's car, no further use of Lewiston's debit card. The BOLO had been expanded to the entire Eastern Seaboard, and inland to include Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and the Carolinas. He'd turn up eventually, Gibbs had no doubt. But the delay was frustrating.

The sailor Rosario told them was involved with the attack on Goetz was another dead end. Literally. His enlistment had come to an end shortly after Goetz's attack, and he'd declined to reup. Less than two months later, he died after wrapping his new sports car around a telephone pole. Drunk driving, the coroner had concluded.

"Abby pulled his DNA profile. She got a positive match for one of the samples collected from Master Chief Goetz."

"How'd she get it?" Gibbs asked.

"The profiles are only restricted until death."

Gibbs nodded to himself. That made sense since the reason for taking the DNA of service members was to identify remains.

"Have her pull the profile from the guy who went with Radkoff."

"To see if we can make a match with any of the other suspects, get them off our list," McGee said. "I'll tell her."

As for Ramey, McGee reported he still wasn't answering his cell. It had no GPS, but McGee had tracked his outgoing calls to towers in the Washington Metro area.

"He's in Washington?" Gibbs asked.

"He was earlier today. He hasn't made a call in a couple hours, so I don't know if he's here now. I did a little off-the-record digging. He's booked on a flight out of Dulles Monday evening."

"Where's he going?"

"A ski resort north of Montreal. For a week."

"We need to talk to him before he leaves," Gibbs said.

McGee asked how hard Gibbs wanted him to go on it: Did Gibbs want him to grab a couple agents and go pound some pavement? Or just continue trying to trace him remotely? Did he want Ramey to know NCIS was looking for him at all? It's not like he was a suspect, but if he did know something, and someone had mentioned to him that they were working this investigation, he might run if he knew they were looking for him.

Knowing they had nothing that would support setting up a surveillance net, Gibbs told McGee to keep doing what he could to make contact with the sailor. If he managed it, McGee should make up some reason why Ramey needed to meet with them as soon as possible, wherever they could arrange it.

Though it was barely 5:00, Gibbs was tired. It had been a long day. The second dose of Ducky's pills hadn't quieted the pain like the previous ones had, and Gibbs wondered if he'd done more damage to his knee with the run across the gym. He told DiNozzo to find them someplace to stay for the night. He needed to lay down. For a long time.

to be continued...

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