Tyler Reynolds was just finishing up his presentation to Marshall Wallace when John quietly slipped into the office. Wallace immediately noticed his arrival. "Mr. Phillips, isn't it? Did you have something to add in regards to the expansion?"

"No, sir." John took a deep breath and stepped closer. "This is in regards to the overseas bank accounts." When Wallace looked confused and Reynolds froze, he continued. "The ones that are in Mr. Reynolds' name."

Wallace held out his hand and John gave him the pages McGee had printed for him. It only took the businessman a moment to understand what he was looking at and he turned to stare at a very nervous Tyler Reynolds.

"Mr. Wallace, I can explain."

"I sincerely doubt that, Mr. Reynolds, but it might be amusing to listen to you try. Mr. Phillips, would you wait for me in Mr. Reynolds' former office? While you are there, feel free to plan any changes you would like to the decor and bring yourself up to date with the expansion plans." Wallace handed John the file for the expansion. "I need you to be ready to be introduced to the shareholders next week."

-NCIS-

"Well?"

"Now we wait." Phillips was too nervous to sit down and started gathering Reynolds' photos and personal items. He had just finished boxing all the items up when Marshall Wallace walked in.

Wallace looked at Tim, taking in the casino work jacket. "I never forget a face and I don't believe you work for me."

John jumped in before Tim could say anything. "I brought him in for this, sir, to provide independent verification of my suspicions. We went to college together."

It was Tim's turn to cut off the conversation before John mentioned his name. "Gregory Briers, sir." Using the name on his hastily crafted fake ID, he shoved his hand out for a handshake.

Wallace took the offered hand, but he was aware of Phillips' reaction to the introduction. "Well, Mr. Briers, would you check that Mr. Reynolds has successfully returned my money back to its rightful spot?"

With Wallace leaning over his shoulder, Tim reviewed all the banking records for the casino, quickly spotting the returned funds. "It's all back, sir. All eight million dollars."

"That's very good. You're an excellent hacker, but your name isn't Gregory Briers."

Tim froze, reviewing his options. He'd heard enough about Wallace over the years that he had a pretty good idea how this was going to play out, but he needed to be sure. Finally he looked over at John. "Do you trust him?"

John nodded slowly, knowing exactly what was being asked of him. "Yeah, I do. He's always been upfront with his employees and refused to let anyone suspected of organized crime get involved with any of his casinos or hotels." He paused for a moment before continuing. "His son was at the Twin Towers when they were hit."

Truth was what Tim McGee did best and that last bit of information gave him a connection to the man that could save them or destroy even more. "My real name is Timothy McGee and I'm a federal agent. I did go to MIT with John. My major was in computer forensics, but I met John through the probabilities class and the gambling club. I'm not here to investigate you or your casino. I came to John for his help."

The calm explanation seemed to resonate with Wallace and he sat down next to McGee. "Go on."

"We've been working to shut down a weapons ring, but my partner and I discovered that the handguns they were moving was actually a front for a much bigger operation."

"How big?"

"Big enough that if they're successful, we'll refer to 9-11 as the good old days."

"My God." Wallace's hand shook as he pressed it against his mouth, remembering the horrors of that day.

"The only way they could have gotten this far is if they have someone on the inside."

"A traitor?"

"Yes, and our team's been compromised because of it, our offices were bugged. I have the evidence of the what, but not the who. I need to prove who sold us out so we can stop them before they're able to finish what they're planning."

"Do they know you're in Vegas?"

"We've been traveling off the grid for days. We dumped our cell phones right after they tried to blow us up and managed to get to Las Vegas without being seen by another living soul. The cover we created when we got here was that I'm traveling with my boyfriend and we were robbed when we arrived. I've been working the off-strip casinos the last two days building up funds so we don't look like a couple of homeless bums on the run. I've been in secure contact with my boss and they're tightening the noose at their end, but I'm the one that needs to finish it."

"What do you need?

"With a powerful enough computer, I can backtrace their signal without giving myself away, so I need access to a secure computer network and someplace for us to hide while I work. I also need a doctor that won't ask any questions for my partner. He's got an infected knife wound from when we escaped."

With it all laid out, McGee waited, knowing how much trust he'd put in a man he'd never met. Marshall didn't comment before picking up his phone and calling in his personal assistant. The muscular man with the brown eyes and diamond stud didn't say a word as he came in and waited for his instructions.

"Dalton, this is Mr. Briers, who just recovered eight million dollars for us. I think he deserves more than a little thank you for his work. Inform the staff that he and his life partner will be staying here as my personal guest in the penthouse suite. This is a working vacation for Mr. Briers, so if there is anything that Mr. Phillips is unable to provide for him, I want you to take care of it personally. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir, it will be my pleasure."

"Good. Now, there is a possibility that our former manager might try to get back at the man that stopped him, so you will also be providing security for the couple."

Dalton turned to McGee. "You and your significant other will be safe, you have my word."

"Thank you." The morning had taken a surreal twist, but Tim managed to keep a neutral expression on his face.

Wallace wasn't quite done. "First order of business will be to collect Mr. Briers' partner. They were robbed when they arrived in Vegas and he was injured. Mr. Phillips will have their suite prepared by the time you return."

-NCIS-

Kort was just contemplating turning on the phone when McGee walked through the door and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"Good, you're dressed. I've got a limo waiting for us downstairs." Tim quickly gathered the few items they had.

"A limo?"

"Yeah, apparently stopping an embezzler and recovering eight million dollars comes with some perks."

-NCIS-

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Cvetko's fingers tightened around the phone. "I thought you had people monitoring the investigation?" Without waiting for an answer, he slammed the phone down. Nikolai Dolenec looked up in fear.

"Has something gone wrong, Petar?"

"He is an idiot and we no longer have access to NCIS."

"What about the CIA?"

"They are not the ones running the investigation, that does us no good."

-NCIS-

Even the jaded CIA agent had a hard time not staring at the opulent room as they were escorted in. Several men were waiting for them, but the only one he was introduced to was a doctor. He soon found himself being examined and after a few moments of fussing and clucking, an IV of heavy duty antibiotics was attached to his arm and he was laying in the largest bed he'd ever seen. Before he could even figure out how to ask, he and McGee were alone.

Tim sat on the edge of the bed. "It's a two bedroom suite, but they've taken the second bed out to make room for the computer set up."

"How much did you tell them?"

"Pretty much everything." He shrugged "I know it was a gamble, but it was necessary."

"I hope you're right." A quiet knock on the door interrupted the conversation and a few moments Dalton escorted a bell hop in with a room service cart.

"Mr. Wallace sent up some food, but if there is anything else you would like, just call down to the kitchen and they'll send it right up."

"Thank you, Dalton."

The bell hop made a quick retreat and once he was gone, Dalton handed McGee a print-out. "If this meets your requirements, we'll have it delivered within the hour."

Tim looked over the list, eyes widening at the specs. "I didn't even know some of these were out on the market yet."

Dalton smiled for the first time. "They're not, but Mr. Wallace thought they would be useful. As a stockholder, he had enough clout to make it happen. Will it help?"

"Oh, yeah," Tim couldn't help but grin. "This will help a lot."

Before he left, Dalton pulled a large bag out from the bottom of the cart. "Mr. Wallace's tailor will have a wardrobe ready for each of you tomorrow, but this should help for tonight."

Once they were totally alone, Tim opened the bag, grinning again as he tossed Trent a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

Leaning back against the mountain of pillows, IV in his arm, Kort let his fingers caress the fabric. "I could get use to being a kept man, Timothy."

"Oh, you could?" Tim lifted the covers off the plates to reveal rib-eye steaks with lobster tails and brought them over to the bed. "Just enjoy it while it lasts."

a/n - two more chapters after this one. The question is, do you want me to post over the weekend, or wait and post Monday and Tuesday? After the last chapter of this is up, I've got two finished chapters of Slave of my Heart done and the first three chapters of a new McGibbs that's for a challenge due next month. I wasn't going to work on anything new, but I've been literally dreaming the scenes for the last two months and need to get it out of my head.