Summery: The case takes a turn for the best as the team starts to gain ground on the Family
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.
The grandmother sat in her rocking chair, gently sliding back and forth, her thoughts a whirl. She couldn't believe Halsten had failed. He never failed. Ever. That was one reason why she loved her 'son' so much. He never let her down. He always fulfilled his mission, no matter how hard, and he had certainly been given harder missions than this one.
She frowned, caressing her cane and thinking about Jensen. Thinking about how far this had all come. How far it would yet go.
Perhaps Halsten needed backup. Perhaps he needed a little assistance in bringing Jensen in.
She contemplated this, thinking of the men she had ready at her fingertips. She thought of each of their individual skills, as she glided silently back and forth. Some of them would do nicely on this mission. Some of them would be able to help.
Even now those pesky teams of federal investigators were searching the lake where her men had dumped the body of someone who had been opposed to the Family.
"Fetch Jason Johnston," she ordered her crisp voice cutting suddenly through the stillness. She heard someone leave and sat patiently fingering the nob on her cane until finally the man appeared.
He bowed deeply, waiting for her permission before rising. An average man of some merit, he had been valuable before. He wasn't Halsten, not by a long shot, but he was a decent man, and loyal as long as he was paid enough. The Grandmother paid handsomely for his skill. He certainly had his uses. He had proven invaluable as a spy. Working his way into organizations, scooping out things, and learning secrets of the people the family intended to take care of, or put pressure on. But more importantly, he was expendable.
"I want you to go back to the lake were Jensen and the rest dumped that body. Work your way into this team of investigators and find out what they know. Contaminate the evidence if you can. Then find out where they are hiding Jensen.
Rising slowly from her chair, her joint and bones creaking painfully, she shuffled from the room, two armed guards falling in silently behind her.
Gibbs sat at his desk with his head in one hand, looking over the crime scene photos on his desk.
"McGee, can you pull these up? He demanded exhaustion making his voice more sharp then he had intended it to be.
The techie, looking just as exhausted, nodded and with a few key strokes had the images displayed on the large plasma screen that decorated the wall of his bull-pen.
Standing wearily, Gibbs moved to get a better look at the images displayed on the luminous screen.
The photos were of a beat up, but none the less expensive looking, Mercedes Benz that was being pulled out of a lake. The chrome surface had been crushed by a crash, presumably with the other car that had pushed it, sidelong into the water.
The next picture showed the body of a man in an expensive Armani suit that they had found inside the car. The man's name was Kiel, and he was a Congressmen. His hands hand been tapped to the steering wheel. According to Ducky, however, the tape was mostly for effect. He had been dead long before the car had hit the water. Besides the single carefully placed bullet hole in the center of his forehead – professional work according to Ziva – the man had been brutally beaten, then branded, like Jensen, before being dumped into the lake. He clearly was meant to be a warning message to any who opposed the Family.
"Hold it there McGee…. Back it up a little," Gibbs said when the image changed again. This shot was another of the car as it was being pulled from the water. Half a dozen federal agents milled about snapping pictures, or searching the perimeter for evidence.
"Zoom in there," Gibbs said pointing to a cluster of agents, standing off to the side.
McGee obediently did so, closing in on one man in particular. One man who didn't fit. One man who Gibbs did not recognize.
"Can you clear this up McGee?" He asked indicating the man he wanted, whose face was lost in a blur of digitized pixels.
A few key stroke later and the image enhanced, clearing up significantly, revealing the man in almost crystal clear detail.
The man was of average height and build, with just a hint of a beer belly. Average features were off set by clear, deep set, blue eyes that cut a raking glare from beneath bushy, eyebrows. A dark, thick, beard covered the lower half of the man's face, completing the picture, and hiding his jawline from the world. He stood casually, even a tad bit sloppily, and not with the alertness Gibbs expected from an investigator on a crime scene.
"Call Ziva…." Gibbs ordered looking over his shoulder, half expecting the agent to already be there, only to remember that she was on duty, protecting Chiara. After making sure that she wasn't wounded, and debriefing her within the relative safety of the NCIS building they had taken the exhausted and grieving woman to a safe house in the middle of the woods, some miles from the city. There she could get some rest, grieve in peace and most importantly she would be safe. Especially with a constant guard assigned to protect her at all times.
A short phone call later and McGee had Ziva on the phone. He read the description of the man to her even as he emailed a picture to her phone.
"That's not him. That's not the man I fought in the woods." her voice floated over the open air, after a long moment.
Gibbs let out an explosive breath running his hands thorough his hair, turning away from the display. It was a minute before he turned back. McGee watched him anxiously as he lifted the phone to his ear and continued his conversation.
"Have you ever seen him before?" He asked, probably a bit more harshly than was necessary.
"No. I'm sorry; I've never seen this man before." She replied, without missing a beat. "He could be from another agency perhaps," she suggested.
"No. I would know him. No… he might be a plant from the family…."
"A spy boss?" McGee interrupted, following the conversation, alertly.
Gibbs just nodded.
"If he's a spy then we can use him to find out information about the family." Ziva piped up.
"I know that. We just have to have a reason to question him…" Gibbs replied, thoughtfully.
"You could always leak information to him. Or have him followed. Following him would be less dangerous, and may prove useful, later. "Ziva suggested.
Gibbs nodded, than remembering she couldn't see him made an agreeing noise, his eyes narrowing as he thought carefully about his next step.
"I'll run this through the databases; see if we can find any matches on our shooter…" McGee volunteered. "We may just get lucky." Tim said, turning towards his computer and typing rapidly
A few minutes later the computer pinged and an official looking document popped up next to a picture of the man with the beard. It wasn't a criminal record however. It was a service record from the DEA.
"Here we go boss. Our man is Jason Johnston. Former DEA agent, he was released from duty when he got greedy and was caught accepting bribes, and trafficking under the table. He served his time in GITMO and after that, disappeared. Nothing since then would be grounds enough for bringing him in and questioning him."
"The Family probably found him and recruited him. They seem to like these former military men. Probably, because of their training." Ziva suggested, her voice coming from the phone and filling the dead space efficiently, as Gibbs carefully weighed his options.
"How long have you been on duty, David?" Gibbs demanded suddenly.
"An hour. Maybe a bit more than that," she replied.
"Okay. McGee, go home get some sleep. Ziva you stay put until I get there. I'll take over guarding Jensen. I want you to follow Johnston. Find out where he's going and who he reports to." Gibbs ordered.
"I'll handle it," she replied, with the familiar confidence he had come to expect from her.
"Good, I'll be there in an hour," Gibbs replied and clicked the phone shut, effectively ending the call.
"Abby has the result you wanted from the vehicle. She's in her lab," McGee said looking down as his computer pinging once again, and an email appeared from the forensic scientist.
By the time he looked back up Gibbs had disappeared, leaving him alone in the bull-pen.
"What've ya got for me Ab's? " Gibbs asked striding into the lab.
"What've I got? I'll tell you what I've got! I've got a massive headache is what I've got! Major Mass Spec and the others are on the verge of an all-out mutiny because of all the work they've had to do. And, we can't afford to have an insurrection! Oh and I'm out of CAF POW!" The clearly harried and sleep deprived forensic scientist rattled off at machinegun staccato pace as she stormed over to stand in front of him her normally neatly kept black hair, slightly awry; probably from running her fingers through it.
Gibbs blinked at her and pressed a fresh, extra-large Caf-Pow into her hands as compensation.
She snatched it and took a long slurp, seeming only slightly pacified, then turned and slammed the drink down on her work table. With a few key strokes she brought up a finger print display.
"First of all we have this…."
"Whose is it?" Gibbs demanded receiving a glare that almost made him step back. Almost.
"It's rude to interrupt, you know Gibbs. Especially when I'm this tired."
He held up his hands and backed off.
"Now as I was saying…. Apparently one of our assailants' got sloppy and actually touched the window of the congressman's car. I almost missed it completely when I was going over the car. But the light hit it just right and I found it." She said with a broad smile, pride evident in her voice.
"It belongs to a man by the name of Kevin Tellinger…." She continued, bringing up a mug shot of the man.
"Now before you ask I already ran a check on him. We may not have heard of the Family until now but we certainly have heard of him. He has a rap sheet a mile long. Armed robbery, assault, drugs. You name it Tellinger has done it." She explained bringing up the man's criminal record. Then, holding up a hand, she stopped him before he could interrupt or leave.
Gibbs shifted his weight impatiently; eager to make some headway on the difficult case, but waited obediently, silently thanking all the powers above that he had such good people on his team.
"Now…. I know what you're thinking… 'Let's go bring him in for questioning.' But, sadly, Tellinger was reported missing a week and a half ago by his mother. Two days later his body was found dumped in the bushes of some city park. Local LEO'S did the autopsy. Get this Gibbs…. He died from a rare strand of modified Ebola, common only in the most remote parts of Western Africa." She paused to catch her breath, turning to look at the man who was like a father to her as he looked over all her hard work.
"How'd he get it Ab's" He asked moving so that he could look at the larger display on her wall.
"That's the thing Gibbs…. They don't know…." She replied looking away from his penetrating gaze.
Gibbs nodded, thoughtfully " good work Ab's," he said and moved to leave, than rethinking things he turned back and kissed her temple gently, extracting grin from the woman who was like his daughter.
"Get the body Ab's" He ordered, striding purposefully out the door.
Exactly one hour later Gibbs's car pulled up in front of the safe house. Predawn light was just starting to color the horizon as dawn rapidly crept up on the world.
Ziva peered out between the blinds, watching as her boss got out of the car and headed up the gravel walk way.
Three knocks a pause, another knock, a final pause and five more knocks and she opened the door, looking into his exhausted eyes for a moment before stepping aside to let him in.
"Jensen?" he asked setting down a fresh flat of coffee before handing her a cup. She took it thankfully, closing the door and locking it.
"Still sleeping," she replied quietly, nodding towards the back room. The door was slightly open so that Ziva would always be able to see Jensen and wouldn't have any doors in her way if something should happen.
Gibbs nodded once and shifted slightly, so he could hand her a folder. She hesitated, searching his face with concern, before opening the file and looking at the pictures it contained. He didn't say anything but Ziva could see the weariness in his eyes. He had probably already pulled a double shift, and now was taking her place for a third.
"Are you sure you want me to do this Gibbs? I could pull a double, watch Jensen, than go and follow this man when McGee comes to replace me…." She ventured, carefully.
Gibbs just leveled her with one of his no non-sense glares, but softened slightly when he saw the genuine concern in his agents face. "I'll be fine David. I don't want to miss this window of opportunity to catch these guys, while we still have a chance to do so." He said, both direct and gentle.
Ziva just nodded, accepting this and didn't push him any further.
"Good luck" Gibbs called watching her as she gathered her things and headed out.
She paused, turning in the door, and looked back at him, smiling slightly. "I've got this," she reassured and disappeared, closing the door behind her.
Gibbs stood looking at the door momentarily, thinking about his agent and all she had been through recently.
Just a year and a half ago she had been wounded so badly that there had been a question about whether she would live. Now her husband had been shot and was lying in a hospital bed. She should be by his side, not out on the field risking her life while Tony recovered.
But she never missed a beat. Never asked for sympathy or pity. She would spend her mornings guarding Jensen, her afternoons working on the case and her evenings in the hospital by his side. Far too often he would find her with her head lying on the side of his bed, fast asleep, ad snoring loudly.
He would wake her up and send her home only to find her in the exact same spot a few nights later.
Smiling he shook his head and sat down on the couch, picking up a coffee before flicking on the television set.
If anyone could find out who Jason Johnston reported too it was Ziva.