CHAPTER FIVE

"Hey Timmy!" Abby greeted Tim with a big smile as he entered her lab.

Tim returned it briefly, but he really wasn't in a smiling mood. He just wanted this whole case to be over and done with and his father out of his life.

"You got anything for me, Abs?"

Abby's face fell. "Not a good night?"

He waved off her concerns. "I'm fine. I just need to find Yancy and send my father on his way."

Abby tilted her head, then reached out and embraced McGee in a tight bear hug. "I think you really, really need this, Timmy."

McGee stiffened. Right now, he really didn't want anyone's sympathy. He just wanted his father out of his hair. Gently he disengaged himself from Abby's grip.

"Any luck finding Yancy?"

Abby looked as if she might to and hug him again, but simply sighed and stepped back. "Not really. However, I have been monitoring calls to your father's phone, just in case Yancy gets cocky or impatient. I didn't get anything from Yancy, but I noticed a couple of very short calls from a Dr. Myron Jenson. I don't think they lasted long enough for your dad to even answer."

McGee's brow furrowed. "Dr. Jenson? He was Yancy's main assistant at Lakeland. Could you track the location of the calls? I would guess he was looking for the Admiral, but why wouldn't he talk or leave a message. He didn't, did he? Leave a message, I mean."

Abby shook her head, pigtails flying. "Nope. And he was at that new fancy restaurant, Scorched."

McGee thought about this for a moment. He had no reason to suspect Jenson of anything, although according to Dorney he had been quick to defend Yancy. Perhaps he should have another word with the guy. "When was the last call?"

Abby quickly checked her computer. "Only eight minutes ago. Scorched is only about fifteen minutes from here. I bet you could catch up with him."

"Yeah, I think I might."

McGee headed back up to the bullpen. Gibbs was gone and Dorney no place to be found. He hesitated. It was against protocol to go out on his own, but this guy wasn't really a suspect was he? McGee just wanted to know why he was essentially pinging his father's phone. Well, his father was always telling him he should take the initiative, prove he had some "stones" as the admiral so quaintly put it, so dammit, that's what he would do. McGee snatched up his things and headed to the garage.

It took him more like thirty minutes to get to the new restaurant. It was definitely one of D.C. favorite hotspots for the movers and the shakers. Tim parked his car a block or so away, unable to find anything closer and not wanting to depend on valet parking if he should need to get out fast. As he waited to cross the street, he studied the scene farther down the road by the restaurant. A black car pulled up and Tim's eyes widened as he saw first Tony and then Ziva get out and carefully scan the area. A moment later, the admiral and his aide, Tim didn't know his name, followed. They entered the restaurant and the valet drove the car off into the garage.

The light changed, and Tim hurried across the street surrounded by numerous other pedestrians. His eyes continually slid across his surroundings, looking for anything suspicious. It made him uneasy knowing the admiral just happened to show up at the same place as this Dr. Jenson. Were they supposed to meet? As Tim approached the busy restaurant, he hesitated. Should he go in and ask his father if he was meeting Jenson? His face warmed as he remembered his most recent encounter with the Admiral. No, maybe that wasn't such a good idea.

McGee stumbled as several pedestrians jostled him where he stood. He moved to the side of the garage and studied the opening. Maybe he should just go wait by his father's car. Tony and Ziva were with the Admiral and would keep him safe, but he really wanted to ask him about Jenson. Just not in as public a place as the restaurant.

He hurried to the valet stand and flashed his badge. "Special Agent Timothy McGee. just took a black Lincoln in. I need to see it."

The valet, a young man in his early twenties simply shrugged and wrote down the location of the car, then hesitated. "You really are some kind of cop, right? I mean, I'm not gonna get into trouble for this am I?

McGee gave him a tight smile. "Yes, I really am a federal agent." He then pulled out a photo of Yancy and another of Jenson that he'd printed before he'd left. He handed them to the kid. "You haven't seen either of these men, have you?"

The kid frowned, running a hand through his curly blond hair. "Maybe. I dunno. All these rich dudes look alike to me." He handed the photos back with another shrug.

McGee nodded his thanks and began his ascent into the garage.

The car was parked on the fourth level and McGee's legs felt the strain. Pausing to catch his breath, he checked the paper again and noted the car should be at the end of the row. He could just make it out ahead. Tim wiped his brow, took a deep breath and continued on, when a furtive movement near the Lincoln caught his attention. McGee froze, then darted behind a nearby car.

Silently, he pulled out his revolver and began to creep forward trying to see what was going on. Keeping low, he moved steadily ahead using the cars to shield him as best he could. He was just a few cars away now. He knelt down to look under the vehicles. He could make out a figure in a black hooded sweatshirt doing something to the undercarriage of his father's car. Tim went cold. A bomb? He leapt to his feet and dashed forward, gun at the ready.

"Federal agent! Stop what you're doing and stand up with your hands where I can see them!"

He was now beside the car and could clearly see the person's lower half, his head and arms still under the car. He wasn't moving now. "I'm coming out," said a muffled voice. "Don't shoot!"

"Let me see your hands!" Tim's heart pounded in his chest. This guy was going to blow up the Admiral's car! But not only the Admiral, but Tony and Ziva as well. His grip on the gun tightened.

The mystery man extended his hands from below the car. Moving closer to the car, Tim kept his focus firmly on the man, watching for any funny stuff. He was so focused however, he never saw the second guy creep up behind him with the crow bar. In an explosion of white agony, Tim let out a cry and the world went black.

xxxx

Tony stood on the sidewalk watching carefully for any suspicious behavior while they waited for the valet to bring the Admiral's car around. Admiral McGee had a lunch meeting with some senator, Tony couldn't keep them all straight, and it went on for hours. The food was good though. He had to admit that much. Nearby, Ziva was deliberately scanning her own area. They made a good team.

A few moments later, the valet arrived with the car. He got out, handing the keys to Lieutenant Owens. He watched Tony and Ziva with interest as they continued to scan.

"Hey, you guys feds like that other guy?"

Tony turned to the kid. "What? What other guy?"

The kid shrugged. "Tall guy. Showed me his badge. Had some kind of Irish name. Didn't recognize what agency though."

A chill ran through Tony as he stepped closer. "Was it McGee? NCIS?"

The valet's face brightened. "Yeah! That sounds right. Showed me a coupla photos, then said he needed to look at that car." He pointed at the Lincoln. He frowned. "Funny thing. I don't think he ever came back out."

Tony froze and stared at the car. He carefully ran his eyes along its curves and lines then reached out and touched something on the hood. His fingers came back sticky. Ziva now stood beside him. Her eyes widened at the red stain on his fingers.

"Tell the Admiral and his aide to get out of the car," Tony said to her, his voice level. Ziva nodded and moved swiftly. He then turned to the valet. "Move everyone away from here, into the building." The valet stared at him wide-eyed. "Do you understand?"

Nervously, the valet nodded and to his credit began to usher people inside ignoring their protests and complaints.

"Agent DiNozzo, what the hell is going on?" The Admiral had materialized at Tony's side, his face red.

"Sir," said Tony very quietly. "I think something may have been done to your car." And perhaps to your son.

"Do you really believe that, Agent DiNozzo?" Lieutenant Owns was now beside the admiral staring at the car with apprehension.

"I need everyone to move away from the vehicle," repeated Tony more firmly. He stooped down and peered under the car while Ziva did the same on the other side.

"I see it." Ziva pointed to a spot near the gas tank. "Looks fairly simple. I think I can make out some kind of timing device."

Tony quickly stood. "C'mon, everyone inside and away from the windows. Now!"

Ziva was already on the phone calling for assistance.

Fortunately, lunch had been over for some time and it was still too early for the dinner crowd, so there weren't many irate patrons to contend with. The streets were cordoned off and the bomb squad called it. Gibbs arrived shortly thereafter.

He found Tony and Ziva along with the Admiral and Lt. Owens well away from the danger zone.

"Hey, Boss," called Tony in relief. "Did they get the bomb?"

Gibbs nodded. "According to the bomb squad, it was a pretty simple device. A wire had come loose so it wasn't connected to the timer. Sloppy."

"So, can we leave now?" demanded the Admiral, his face set. "I have very important business to attend to."

"Sir, agents Carter and Morales just arrived with a new car for you. They'll escort you back to your office."

Admiral McGee gave him a curt nod, then hesitated glancing at Tony and Ziva. "Your agents did an outstanding job here today, Gibbs. Glad it was them and not my son or we might not be standing here now. You should be proud of them."

"Sir," Owens touched his elbow. "Agent Morales is here."

With a nod to Tony and Ziva, the admiral turned and followed Owen and Morales from the room.

Gibbs watched him through narrowed eyes.

"I would like very much to punch that admiral in the face," muttered Ziva.

"Boss," Tony's grim voice brought them back to attention. "I think we may have another problem. The valet told me that McGee came looking for the admiral's car. He went into the garage, but never came out. I found what looks like blood on the hood. I tried calling his cell but didn't get an answer. I don't like it."

Gibbs's face darkened. "You think something might have happened to him?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I feel a tingling in my gut that says something is wrong."

"All right. Let's go find that valet and find out where the admiral's car was parked."

The three agents hurried back outside. The black Lincoln had been searched for any other devices and was now being mounted onto a tow truck. The young valet was watching with a couple of his buddies. Obviously, nothing like this had happened to them before.

His eyes lit up when he saw Tony. "Man, this is the coolest thing I have ever seen! A car bomb! Glad it didn't blow, but wow."

Gibbs glanced at the young man's name plate. "Max, you say the agent that came by earlier never came back out? Are you sure you didn't just miss him? Maybe he came out another way."

Max shrugged. "I never saw him and neither did any of the other guys. I asked. Y'know because you guys seemed worried. I even called the guys over at the north exit and they didn't see him either."

"I do not like this," murmured Ziva studying the garage entrance.

"We need to know where that black Lincoln was parked."

Following the valet's instructions, the team climbed into Gibbs' nearby car, preferring speed to walking up to the fourth level. Gibbs stopped the car some distance away from the designated space. The three agents climbed out of the car and began combing the area.

"Here is some more blood," called Ziva kneeling a couple of feet from the parking space. The others hurried over and watched as she took a sample from a small pool of dark liquid.

"McGee's do you think?" wondered Tony aloud. His face was troubled.

"Abby will be able to tell us," replied Ziva closing up the evidence bag.

Gibbs knelt within the parking space looking for any signs left by the bomber. He lifted an eyebrow as he carefully picked up a small screwdriver and some tape. "Looks like our bomber may have been interrupted while mounting the bomb."

"Could explain the loose wire." Tone handed him an evidence bag.

The silence of the garage was broken by the shrill ring of a cell phone. The trio froze. It seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby.

Gibbs moved to a Mercedes parked across from the Lincoln's space. Kneeling, he reached under the vehicle and pulled out a cell phone just as it stopped ringing. He handed it to Tony who quickly checked the last caller. It was Abby. He met Gibb's gaze, but said nothing. There was no question. It was McGee's.

A/N: I'll be leaving town for a few days so probably won't be able to update until I get back, so I wanted to at least get this one up before we take off! Thanks for reading!