a/n - Tomorrow is a black out day in protest of the anti-internet bills being pushed through Congress, so here is a nice, meaty chapter to get you through it. Enjoy.

Barely tasting the coffee, Gibbs walked through the nearly empty building, heading for the large exhaust vents on the far side. Once there, he waited. He and McGee had set up a schedule for emergencies, a set time every day where Gibbs would be alone and could safely talk. For an extra layer of security Gibbs had even purchased a burn phone, one much smaller and thinner than his usual choice, but easier to stay unnoticed in his pocket. He'd hoped to get the call yesterday, but knew that there hadn't been enough time for McGee to get somewhere safe.

When the call finally came in, from an unknown number, he answered on the first ring. "Yeah?"

"Are you alone?"

The roar of the vents forced Gibbs to cover his other ear as he strained to hear, but it would make it impossible for the conversation to be picked up by even the best listening equipment. "Yeah, it's safe to talk. Are you all right? Are you safe? Is Kort still with you?"

"Both banged up, but on the mend and we're safe for the moment. Boss..."

Gibbs could hear the fear as Tim struggled to tell him what had happened. "This is bigger than the handguns, isn't it?"

"Way bigger. They stole a bunch of warheads from someplace in Europe, Gibbs, and they were here for rockets to mount them on."

"What? Do they have the rockets in their possession yet?"

"I think so, I heard one of them mention a warehouse in Hopewell."

Gibbs remembered the theft of the warheads that Ziva had uncovered. Sixty five of the warheads had vanished from a military transport train. Combined with enough rockets, it would give Cvetko sixty five functional missiles to sell to terrorists, a terrifying prospect. "Damn it, how close are they to launching them?"

"They can't launch them because I intercepted the activation codes. That's why they're after us. Boss, somebody from our side had to have sent out those codes. I have a plan to trace them, but we can't let them know we're onto them."

"What do you need from us, Tim?"

"Time and some sort of a distraction."

"We've located the bugs and have been monitoring the suspected moles on this end. We'll pick them up and see what else we can shake loose. Stay safe, son." This time it was Gibbs that heard the dial tone before he slowly closed his phone.

-NCIS-

Tim watched the time carefully as he talked to Gibbs, shutting down the call just before it hit the two minute mark. He shut off the phone and removed the battery to be safe. He'd been on the other side of the equation often enough to know all the tricks to prevent his call from being traced.

Ducking into a cybercafe, he paid for a short block of computer time and quickly did some research. His friend from MIT was still in Las Vegas and had worked his way up the ladder to assistant day manager at one of the flagship casinos on the strip.

John Phillips started out as an engineering major at MIT, a major chosen by his parents. He'd enjoyed the mathematics, but nothing else involved with his future career. When he accompanied a group of fellow students to a casino in New Jersey, he'd discovered his true passion.

Months later, at the end of a late night study session, he'd found himself entering into a pact with a very young, very smart young man who also hated the career path his parents had chosen for him. John dropped the engineering for an economics major with a psychology minor while young Timothy quietly shifted from nuclear science to computer forensics. All through the parental ranting, they'd been each others support until, finally, they'd each fulfilled their dreams.

Tim entered the casino, keeping an eye on the corridor to the back offices as he casually played the slots. Eventually, John came out to do his morning walk through. Tim caught his eye and then quickly shook his head before John could react. Tim then walked over to the nearby beverage station and poured himself a cup of coffee. He didn't have long to wait before John came over and poured his own cup.

Not looking up, Tim poured some creamer into the cup. "I need your help."

Phillips didn't visibly react to the softly spoken words, but his hand slid closer before picking up a stir stick. His own voice was equally soft. "Seven fourteen." When he left, there was a key card on the counter. As he continued to stir his coffee, Tim slid his hand over and picked it up.

Obviously under repair, room 714 had no furniture and fresh patches were apparent on the walls. Tim was still studying the damage when John walked in. "Heavy metal rockers, they play hard and fight even harder."

Tim had to smile at the memories that brought back. "Do you still put them in rooms that you want to renovate, let them pay for the upgrades?"

"Hey, if they're going to come in and smash up my hotel, they might as well be tearing apart rooms that I want to change anyway." John studied him carefully. "You look like hell, Timmy. What happened?"

"The less you know, the safer you'll be, John. Let's just say that it involves some possible terrorists that have more access in this country than they should have. They managed to bug our office and get a mole close to the investigation."

While John stared at him in shock, Tim made his request. "I need access to a secure computer that's big enough and fast enough to track them down and someplace safe to work."

"Well, I can comp you a room easy enough and a computer is easy, but I'm not about how secure it would be."

"What? Why?" Instinctively, Tim looked around, his hand moving to his hip, only to find no holster as he remembered that his pistol was hidden away as to not arouse suspicion.

"No, not like that." John paced for a minute, not wanting to burden his old friend, especially under these circumstances, but he needed McGee to understand. "I'm pretty sure that my boss is skimming money from the casino, but I don't have any proof to take to the owners. He's got to be using the computers somehow, and that means he's managed to bypass the security protocols"

Tim started formulating a plan that would take care of both their problems. "Okay, John, this is what we're going to do."

-NCIS-

A cryptic text from Gibbs asking about new uniforms for the NCIS softball team brought Vance to a meeting site. Twenty minutes later he left to return to his office while Gibbs had one more call to make. As usual, Fornell grumbled, but showed up promptly.

"All right, Gibbs, what's so damn important?" He looked around, wondering about the cold and noisy meeting place Gibbs had chosen.

"Petar Cvetko, ya' heard of him?"

Fornell didn't have to struggle to remember. "Chechen arms dealer, tight with a wide range of terrorists. Fell off the grid in Bosnia a few weeks ago. Are you saying he's here?"

"Your sources think he's behind the missing warheads?"

"Bosnian government's official story is that they were stolen for scrap metal, but yeah, he looks good for it. Warheads won't do him much good, though. Not without something to launch them and the codes to make everything work together. Homeland security is concerned, but not worried."

"They'd better start worrying."

"Are you saying that he's gotten his hands on some rockets? What in the hell is going on, Gibbs?"

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee as he looked around. He'd subtly scanned Fornell and cleared him of any bugs and the sounds of the wind as they stood on the edge of the Anacostia River would cover their voices. "Our investigation into rumors of a planned heist of small arms crossed paths with a CIA investigation into a group that was smuggling handguns out of the country. It became a joint OP."

"Big jump from handguns to missiles. When did that happen?"

"We're not sure. Kort and McGee went under, Kort as a buyer, McGee as his accountant. The meet was a trap, but somehow McGee managed to intercept the codes. They're staying one step ahead of Cvetko."

"You're telling me that Trent Kort and your geek are the only thing standing between Petar Cvetko and sixty five ready to launch missiles? Why haven't you brought them in?"

"Had an infestation show up in our offices the same time as the CIA. Those codes came from our side. Those rockets are US rockets and nobody's sounded the alarm."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"I assume you have a plan?"

"McGee thinks the rockets are in a warehouse in Hopewell. Need you to find them and sit on them until we're ready to move."

"And if they show up for their rockets before you're ready?"

"They won't. No point in moving the rockets until they have the codes."

Fornell wasn't quite convinced. "But if they do?"

"Then you arrest them, Tobias, and make sure they don't talk to anyone."

-NCIS-

McGee arrived back at the Blue Moon with a plan, another seven hundred dollars from his blackjack winnings, a bag from a gift shop and two orders of Chinese food. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm not dead yet." Kort grimaced as he sat up. "I'd say that's a positive sign."

"Yeah, I'd say so." While Kort was sitting up, Tim peeled back the dressing and took a look at the wound. "The antibiotics are helping, but you've still got an infection."

Their options were limited, so Kort chose to focus on the most vital. "Do I smell Moo Shu Pork?"

Shaking his head, McGee pulled the box out and handed it over before digging out the chopsticks and plastic forks. Kort ignored the fork and expertly started working the chopsticks. "You are a prince among men, McGee. So, what's the plan?"

Wielding his own chopsticks, Tim laid out the plan, ignoring the widening of Kort's eyes the more he talked.

-NCIS-

Gibbs arrived back in the squad room and gave a subtle signal to DiNozzo. As Gibbs circled around, Tony and Ziva began reviewing their search results loud enough to cover any extra sounds as Gibbs grabbed Hicks in a sleeper hold. Once Hicks was out, Tony helped Gibbs hustle him into the elevator. Ducky was waiting in Autopsy with a large needle that assured Ryan Hicks a long and pleasant rest.

When Gibbs and DiNozzo walked away with Hicks slumped between them, Ziva got busy with her own part of the plan, setting the MP3 players up on hers and Tony's desks. As their voices started, she picked up the backpacks from under the desks and made her way to Abby's office. Tony and Gibbs joined her a few minutes later and Abby showed them where she'd tracked the transmissions. Address in hand, they set out to the closed burger joint.

The voices were softer today and DiNozzo seemed to be bouncing between the case and random movie trivia, causing their listener to concentrate to the sounds coming through the headphones. He never had a clue that he wasn't alone until the headphones were suddenly snatched away. He vaguely heard DiNozzo's voice asking him for fries before a large fist ended his awareness.

Back at NCIS, Abby and Vance waited for the signal from Gibbs. Once it came, they swept the entire building, gathering all the bug in the place except for the two still in the squad room. The team returned and dumped their unconscious listener in a holding cell before starting the next step.

-NCIS-

"And here I thought you were the sane one out of your group."

Tim grinned at the back-handed compliment. "You got a better plan?"

"No, but I'm going with you."

"Absolutely not. If this doesn't work, you're the only one who can keep the evidence safe."

"I don't like sitting on my ass letting you take all the risks."

"I'm not real thrilled about it either, but unless you can figure out how to get a couple of degrees worth of computer knowledge overnight, we don't have a lot of choice. Why don't you watch some television while I work." Tim walked over and flipped on the set.

Kort had tried to find some news earlier only to discover that the resort streamed porn 24-7. He opened his mouth to warn McGee when the image of two men, tangled together, appeared on the screen. Momentarily distracted by the image, Kort shifted on the bed as his mind substituted McGee for the younger man writhing in ecstasy.

Tim froze at the sounds coming from the speakers. Flushing, he turned back to shut it off when he realized how quiet Kort was. He looked closer at the screen, casually noticing the physical similarities between Kort and the older actor.

"Not a good quality film." Kort tried to downplay his interest. "Two men, five legs, the cameraman caught himself."

Turning his head to better sort out the action, Tim disagreed. "That's not another leg, Kort."

Kort's head mirrored his action. "Damn, you're right. How does he walk with that monster?"

-NCIS-

Usually it would be McGee studying the electronics found at a crime scene, but that wasn't possible and the only other geek he trusted was Abby which is why Gibbs found himself guarding her as she worked her magic.

"Gibbs, you'd better take a look at this." She chewed her lip as he looked at her findings.

"You're sure this is where he's sending his reports?"

"This is really bad, isn't it, Gibbs?"

"Oh, yeah."