PLEASE NOTE: If you're reading this as it's being posted, you need to be aware that I made a small change to the last section, explaining the origin of the "One Less" notes. It's at the end of Ramey's interrogation. I didn't realize until way too late that I'd neglected to put it in. It really has no bearing on the rest of the story, and it's only a couple of sentences. But if you're interested, please do go back and read that part again.
RECAP: When last we saw our heroes, Gibbs and DiNozzo had just finished watching all the videos of the attacks. They were left reeling at the cruelty men were capable of. They had also just discovered the first piece of concrete evidence of the priest's involvement: video showing him returning to the scene of the attack on Major Ortiz. It's not much, but it's something. That was Thursday night. Today, Friday, Gibbs and DiNozzo will head to Florida to remove Father Thayer from the Roosevelt before she starts across the Atlantic. Whether they have enough evidence or not, they have run out of time. McGee and Ziva will remain behind in Washington to coordinate the simultaneous arrest of all of the remaining players in the conspiracy. By nightfall on this day, it will all be over.
One Less - Part 44
by joykatleen
The morning came too quickly. Gibbs slept in short spurts, waking often when dream reruns of the videos he'd watched became too much. He tossed and turned, considered the basement, rejected it as too much trouble with the crutches, fell asleep, woke up, and tossed and turned again. He gave up trying half an hour before his alarm was to go off and slowly descended to the kitchen. He put coffee on and stepped outside for the paper. Bending down to get it off the porch was way more work than it ought to be and Gibbs nearly took a header down the steps before catching himself on the porch rail. Resting against the doorway to wait out the adrenalin rush, Gibbs examined the sky. It was still more than an hour before dawn, the coldest part of the night, and there was a gusty wind blowing. He could see no stars. Had there been a storm forecast? Honestly, he had no idea. They'd been so consumed by this case, Gibbs wasn't sure when he'd last noticed a news report.
He drank two mugs of coffee while reading the paper. The usual trouble overseas, murder and mayhem, hockey scores, more Washington bull. And yep, snow in the forecast.
Gibbs folded the paper and stared out the back window into the dark. He let his eyes glaze and his mind turn inward. This morning they would fly to Jacksonville, meet up with Fredrick, and arrest Thayer. If Fredrick had the confession, they'd use it to put him away for a long time. If not, Gibbs would take shot at him himself. Either way, the priest would be off the Roosevelt and in custody by nightfall.
He sometimes wondered, in these last few hours before a takedown, if suspects had any idea how their lives were about to change. On a naval ship in Florida was a man who'd been participating in a series of violent crimes for years, in what he thought was total impunity. He had been getting away with it for so long that even if there was a small part of his mind that occasionally reminded him that he could get caught, he believed he never would. In this case, Thayer believed he was protected by the 'holiness' of his mission.
Right now, about 700 miles away, Thayer was... Gibbs glanced at the clock over the stove... just about to begin his day. Breakfast would be available shortly. He would get up, shower, get dressed, tidy his rack, maybe do a little praying or other priestly stuff. He would be totally unaware that in six hours or so his career in the navy, his ministry as a priest, and his freedom would all be something he spoke about in the past tense. Sometimes Gibbs almost felt sorry for the dirtbags in the last few hours before a takedown of this kind. The wrath of Gibbs was about to descend and they had no clue.
Early in his career with NCIS Gibbs had arrested a guy for financial fraud. The sailor had falsified some records in the pursers office, and when the problem was discovered had tried to bribe one of the investigators. The investigator had agreed to accept the bribe and arranged to meet the sailor at an off-base location to exchange the money for a crucial piece of evidence. Thing was, the investigator had immediately reported the attempted bribe, and from that point forward the whole thing was a set up. The team had watched the suspect the night before the sting as he went to his bank, withdrew the bribe money, then returned home to his wife and baby. They'd had him under surveillance as he got up that morning, said his goodbyes, and left his house for what would be the last time. The sailor had woken up that morning believing he was about to meet with a man who'd make all his troubles disappear. He'd believed that everything was wonderful. That he was going to get away with it. When they'd arrested him two hours later, the shock on his face was actually funny. He'd truly had no clue. Gibbs had almost felt sorry for the guy.
The sound of a car pulling up to the house drew Gibbs out of his head. A few moments later, feet on the porch and the front door slipped open.
"Oh, hey boss," DiNozzo said. "You're up."
"You're early," Gibbs said.
"Brought breakfast," DiNozzo said and held up takeout bags. Gibbs gestured to the table and DiNozzo started dealing out the food. He grabbed a mug of coffee and refilled Gibbs' before taking a seat.
They ate in companionable silence. When the food was gone, Gibbs hobbled back up the stairs to shower. At least the crutches wouldn't be around much longer. Four days until surgery, a couple days post-surgery – less if he could get away with it – and that'd be that. He supposed he'd have to spend a couple of weeks in a flexible brace. He'd had that pleasure after his first knee injury. It had sucked, but at least he'd been able to walk. Gibbs figured he'd gotten through it once, he could do it again.
With DiNozzo good-naturedly helping with the hard parts and Gibbs trying not to grumble more than strictly necessary, they were ready to go in plenty of time. They made it to the airport and through security with more than an hour to kill before their flight. Their firearm carry authorizations had received far more scrutiny than Gibbs felt was necessary considering they'd been accompanied by federal credentials. But such was the state of fear these days, he supposed.
The flight was smooth and landed only five minutes behind schedule. By 10 a.m., they were through baggage claim and out in Florida's winter heat. Fredrick was waiting for them. He was leaning against a blue passenger van with US NAVY stenciled on the door in yellow, its four-ways flashing. An airport security officer was standing only a few feet away. He didn't look happy and the agents guessed Fredrick had been there awhile. Fredrick was ignoring him.
"We got him," Fredrick said when they were in earshot. "He fell for it. Hook, line and sinker."
"What'd he tell you?" Gibbs asked. DiNozzo took the crutches and Gibbs slid up onto the front passenger seat. Tony tossed their stuff into the back and climbed in after it. Fredrick started the van and merged into the traffic.
"I laid it out like we planned, told him I'd been aware of their mission, that when you showed up on board, I'd done what I could to obstruct your efforts." Fredrick deftly avoided a merging airport shuttle amid much blaring of horns. "I told him I believed in what he was doing, that it was for the good of the Navy, blah, blah, blah. Then I offered to help him. It took a little convincing, but he eventually broke. He told me he's been directing the whole thing, right from the beginning."
"How's he doing it without anyone knowing?" DiNozzo asked from behind Fredrick.
"He said he 'prays' with one of the players, tells him about the target's orientation, plants the seed. He said he intentionally keeps it vague, to protect himself and the integrity of the mission. If the guy hasn't participated before, the priest tells him to talk to one of the old players, ask for advice. If he's been out before, Thayer tells him to contact the watcher."
Which explained why no one person knew the priest was pulling the strings, Gibbs figured. The priest made sure he always talked to someone different. On the other hand, if Lewiston had been both Watcher and participant, he probably knew. Which would be useful at trial if they could get Lewiston to roll over.
"You get enough details to make sure he can't explain it away?" Gibbs asked.
"Plenty. And I got it on tape."
"Where's Thayer now?" DiNozzo asked.
"Everyone's aboard. There was no liberty at this stop. Far as I know, he's still working on the additional training Cmdr. Lawson arranged."
"We'll listen to it, then call the takedown," Gibbs said. Fredrick nodded. He was careful to keep the frustration at Gibbs' need to check up on him off his face. But something must have shown.
"If it's as you say, we'll call it even," Gibbs said. This time, Fredrick's nod was satisfied.
Fredrick boarded the ship first. Gibbs and DiNozzo waited in the van while Fredrick confirmed Thayer's presence in his office and called them with an all clear. They went as quickly as they could to the Agent Afloat's office. The Washington agents took seats at the small table while Fredrick cued up the recording he'd made of his conversation with the priest.
It was exactly as Fredrick had said. Gibbs listened with a growing sense of satisfaction as Thayer buried himself. Fredrick had an interrogation style that made the conversation seem natural and non-threatening. If Gibbs hadn't known, he'd have believed they were just two friends conspiring to get away with murder.
"Good job," Gibbs said when the recorder clicked off. "That's a damn good job."
Fredrick's eyes widened, and he glanced at DiNozzo, who smiled and gave him a satisfied nod.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said.
"Yeah Boss," DiNozzo replied.
"Take Agent Fredrick and bring Cmdr. Thayer up here, will you?"
"On it," DiNozzo said. He stood, a pleased Fredrick following in his wake.
Gibbs flipped open his phone. No service. He pushed Fredrick's wheeled chair over to the desk and used the landline to call McGee at the Navy Yard. The takedown of the 15 outstanding suspects was a go.
That done, Gibbs went back to the recorder and rewound it, searching for a particular section. He sat back to listen to it again.
"Just out of curiosity, how'd it start? How'd you choose this mission?" Fredrick's voice.
"It chose me," Thayer said. There was a long pause before he continued. "I had a friend, a mentor. I'd worked for him for years. We studied the Bible together, prayed together. We were very close."
Another long pause. "He led me into temptation. The evil inside him seduced me, carried me deep into sin. It was the furthest I'd ever strayed from the path of God since taking my vows. By the time I was delivered, he had nearly destroyed my walk. In the aftermath, while I was struggling to regain my footing, begging God's forgiveness, I heard from God. He told me what I had to do. He told me I had to remove myself from my friend's evil influence. Then, I had to perform penance, to show that I understood the depth of my sin, that I was worthy of forgiveness." A pause, a breath.
"My penance was to devote myself to ridding the Navy of the immorality that was threatening to destroy it. My mission was born."
Gibbs hit stop, rewind, and listened again.
"He led me into temptation. The evil inside him seduced me..."
Gibbs hit stop again and closed his eyes. 'Seduced.' An odd choice of words. At first blush, the meaning could be metaphorical: that the nature of his friend's sin had been so attractive that Thayer had followed him into it. But considering the nature of the mission and the rest of Thayer's 'confession', Gibbs thought it likely that the statement was literal, that the priest had actually been seduced. Gibbs' gut was telling him this was the catalyst. He'd bet a week's pay that the friend was gay. That he'd seduced Thayer into having a homosexual fling, or at the very least, sparked homosexual impulses Thayer hadn't previously known he possessed. Guilt was a powerful motivator. Guilt combined with shame even more so. Throw in 'immoral' sexual urges, and you had the trifecta. The perfect recipe for a vendetta.
The alert tones from 1MC sounded. "Attention all hands. Commander Thayer, report to the infirmary, forthwith. Commander Thayer, infirmary, forthwith. That is all."
That was odd. DiNozzo and Fredrick should have had him in custody already. On the other hand, the business of the ship continued, even when the business of the ship was about to be rocked. Thayer could have been anywhere on the ship when the agents went looking for him. It might even have been them calling him to the infirmary. It's not likely the priest would ignore a call there. They'd find him. With the ship locked down, he wasn't going anywhere.
Returning to his theory, Gibbs looked at all the angles. It would certainly explain the genesis of the conspiracy. Thayer had been tempted, maybe even acted on temptation, and it lead to his mission to rid the navy of others that might tempt him. Yeah, that worked.
He used the desk phone to place another call to the Navy Yard. Abby was there, solidifying the forensics they had and keeping McGee and David company.
"Labby," Abby answered. As always, her terminally cheerful voice made him smile, if only for a moment.
"Need you to research something for me," Gibbs said.
"Library or internet?" Abby asked.
"Commander Thayer's SRB. Look at his immediate superiors starting with the date of the first attack and going back."
"Coming right up," she said, and started typing. "What am I looking for?"
Gibbs took a breath. "Hell, I don't know. See if anything weird happened to any of them. Would have been someone he worked with for a long time."
"One order of hinkiness coming up," Abby said. "You want service while you wait?"
"I've got time," Gibbs said. He leaned back in the chair and listened to the combined noise of Abby's music on low, clattering keys, and Abby talking to herself. It took several minutes before she spoke directly to him.
"Ah ha!" she said. "How about unwitnessed man overboard, body never recovered? Where does that fall on your hinky meter?"
"Pretty high. Details?"
"He was a chaplain commander," Abby answered him. "Thayer's supervisor when he was a lieutenant commander, for almost three years. He was Lutheran. Anyway, he disappeared one night while the ship was in the Persian Gulf in support of Operation Enduring Freedom right after 9/11. Hey, you know they were at sea for 160 days without a port call on that cruise?"
"The Ironman. I know. What happened?"
"He was last seen walking on the fantail just before nightfall. There were no air ops scheduled, and no one was paying particular attention to a sailor out watching the sunset. Deck watch saw him, then didn't see him. They assumed he'd gone below. He wasn't reported missing until the next morning. By then, there was no sign of him. He was declared lost at sea."
"Any other investigation?"
"They talked to everyone who claimed to have seen him that night, including Lt. Cmdr. Thayer, who was reportedly out there with him the last time deck watch saw him. Got nowhere. That was it."
"That's probably who I'm looking for. Check the guy before that," Gibbs said. More tapping keys.
"The guy before that's still in the Navy. Nothing hinky there. Before that, he had the same supervisor back to 1995."
"Was he seen alone after he was seen with Thayer?" Tap tap.
"Yes. The deck log says two individuals walking the deck at 1900 before the sun set – Thayer admitted that was him – one individual seen at 1930 in the dusk, none at 2000 hours."
"Alright. Thanks."
"So have you arrested that not really a man who doesn't deserve to be called a priest yet?" Abby asked.
"Working on it," Gibbs said, and disconnected.
The alert tones sounded again. "Attention all hands. Security team to the gangway, on the double. Security team to the gangway, on the double. That is all."
Before the end tones sounded, the phone on the desk started ringing. Gibbs snatched it up.
"NCIS," he barked.
"There's something going on on the gangway, with Thayer," DiNozzo's voice, bouncing like he was running somewhere.
"What?" Gibbs said. He felt a sudden tug at his gut so strong as to almost be a premonition. Something bad was about to happen.
"Not sure. We're on our way there up now. We went to his office to pick him up, but he wasn't there. His RP said he got a phone call and took off in a big hurry. We stat paged him to the infirmary, figured he wouldn't ignore that. We were waiting for him there when the XO paged Fredrick, reporting a disturbance involving Thayer. She told us to get up there, double time."
"I'm on my way," Gibbs said. "DiNozzo?"
"Yeah Boss?"
"Be careful," Gibbs said. "He has to know we know, and he's gotta be figuring he doesn't have much else to lose."
"Copy that," DiNozzo said and hung up. Gibbs grabbed his crutches and levered himself upright, then cursed aloud. It was going to take him forever to transition across the ship, up and down ladderwells, over kneeknockers, and through narrow spaces. He picked up the phone again, calling the bridge. McNally's XO answered.
"Commander, Agent Gibbs. What do you know about the situation on the gangway?"
"Not much. Cmdr. Thayer's got a gun, and a hostage. He's demanding to be let off the ship. The Captain's on his way there."
"Damn it," Gibbs swore. "I need to be up there. Can you send me an escort and authorize an evac elevator?"
"Where are you?"
"NCIS office."
"I'll have someone there in three."
to be continued... very soon.