Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to NCIS. They are owned by CBS. It's been a long time since I've seen that season, please forgive me if I've overlooked anything and point them out in a review. I hope to make a few more chapters to make this feel like an entire episode. Enjoy.
There was many things going on. Having shook Commander Tanner to the point of anger, the next part would be to find out who else stood to gain if Zimmerman was killed. The files that McGee carried out named almost everyone in the unit for one transgression or another, that meant dozens more people to interview, to sort through, and were suspect. Gibbs directed DiNozzo and McGee to go to Zimmerman's immediate commander, Lt. Commander Kessel while he returned to the office to speak with the only other apparent friend the victim had, Lt. Amaya who was coming in from Norfolk.
Having driven all the way from there, the lieutenant was nervous in her prim khaki uniform, all proper with her black hair slicked back and in a tight bun behind her head, a bit of mascara over her eyelids and red lipstick. She sat in the second interview room alone, oblivious that her old counterpart, Salvador was nearby. She waited patiently as Gibbs returned, and when Gibbs entered the room his composure was kind and soft spoken. Pulling out a seat across from her, Gibbs said, "Sorry for the wait, but we've been quite busy here, as you could expect" sitting down with his large hands clasped together before him.
"I understand, sir" Amaya said leaning forward and placing her hands on the table, fingers interlocked, "I've been hearing what happened on the news. How's Zimmerman doing?" her eyes were wide and soft, full of concern.
"They brought him out of surgery a short time ago," before his gaze turned down for a moment, "It doesn't look good, to be honest" Gibbs replied now looking her in the eye. "Fragments from the bullet were found in his heart."
Closing her eyes, Amaya drew a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out as her body eased, "God. Why would anyone want to hurt that poor boy?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out, ma'am" Gibbs said. "I don't have time to beat around the bush, in the course of our investigation we found that you, Lt. Brannan, and Zimmerman have gone to JAG and lodged several complaints against Commander Tanner and his command."
Biting her lower lip Amaya nodded.
Gibbs continued, "From what it looks like to us, somehow Tanner found out about this, Kessel-your immediate commander, was forced to retire and Brannan and you were transferred out. That left Zimmerman by himself."
"Yes, sir" Amaya nodded, "That's what happened. The day after we finished filing our complaints we were all called into Tanner's office one at a time. I was first. He told me that he knew what I did and said I had two options; withdraw the complaints or face punishment. I told him that he couldn't do this and that I would go up the chain of command to the very top if I had to, but he laughed and I refused to give in and I was moved to Norfolk. Then went Brannan. She put up a bigger fight than I did. She told me that when she went into Tanner's office, Salvador was there as well. They tried to bribe her with a transfer to Hawaii, but she refused. Salvador accused her of having an affair with Zimmerman, how else would a woman stand up for any man? She slapped him hard across the face and marched out."
As she talked, Gibbs nodded-soaking it all in. Studying her facial expressions, her words and how she structured her sentences he was able to draw that she was not holding back and was telling the truth-as much as she honestly knew. "Why wasn't Zimmerman transferred?" he asked.
Pausing for a moment to gather herself, Amaya ran the tip of one finger across the hairline on her forehead, "Well, sir, after he had his little talk with the boy, Zimmerman said that he refused to give in. So, if I, Kessel, and Brannan go-Tanner thought that he could eventually pressure him to giving up, cut off his support and belittle and make him seem unwanted..." the lieutenant's face fell into her hands. The bitter memories came flooding back. "I wanted to help him, sir. I truly did. I went through the Chain and pleaded with them, told them how bad it was and how Zimmerman was being tortured everyday. But..." trailing off her brown eyes looked down at the blank table.
"But what?" Gibbs encouraged softly.
"It didn't do any good" now growling, "Our base commander said that he had an 'Open Door Policy', but that was all bull! I went there several times and was turned away many times because he was 'busy', but the couple of times that I did see him, he seemed uninterested in our problems!" She sighed in frustration and nearly broke down in tears. All of this was too much for her. She felt helpless, no matter her rank, her accomplishments, her service...it didn't matter here as all of the policies of the Navy and the bureaucracy had served to do nothing but destroy the little man.
She continued with, "I stayed in touch with Brannan and she was telling me all of the stories that Zimmerman was telling her. I tried to get JAG to hurry up and take action with the complaints, but the lawyer was dragging his feet". The frustration was showing more around her smooth face, the cheeks turned red and her eyes watered and the blood veins showed as well on her forehead. She tried to wipe the water away with the tips of her fingers, but it was no good. "I was actually glad to get away from that damn place," brushing a hand across the table, "The only people I missed were Brannan and Zimmerman. I do know that Salvador asked Zimmerman many questions after his talk with Tanner."
"Like?"
"Well, he asked him things like, 'What did you say to JAG?' 'How could you rat me out?' 'Real men don't rat out their brothers' and things like that. Zimmerman went to Kessel and Kessel drew up an Article 15 for Salvador, but before he could give it to Tanner, he retired. So, Zimmerman came to me for help. I confronted Salvador and ordered him to leave Zimmerman alone. A short time later, Zimmerman reported that someone stole his bag including a diary and art supplies. I lodged a complaint with Tanner personally, and when he laughed at it, I went to JAG again."
It was a vicious circle that she was spelling out. Incompetence, greed, laziness, and uncaring in their own command. Officers were suppose to lead and care for their sailors, but here it became a quagmire where the only way to get out of the endless pit was to step on the heads of your comrades to get at the vine being dangled just out of your reach.
At the same time this was happening, DiNozzo and McGee were heading towards Kessel's place. He was clearing out for his retirement at his on base house. As they pulled up into the driveway and stepped out, DiNozzo donned his sunglasses against the harsh rays of the sun and marveled at the rather 70s era design of the house. "With all the millions being poured into the military, you'd think they have better homes for the officers" he scoffed looking at the finely manicured lawn and the front garden where flowers were in bloom.
"Do you really have to critique everything that you see?" McGee growled.
"It's my job, Probie, to critique, analyze, and study my environment for everything around us can be a potential clue to solving this tingling mystery that has been given to us." They walked up the concrete pathway to the front door, "Before we begin, what's your take on Kessel? Friend or foe?"
McGee sighed as his eyes looked at the wood door before them, "If the victim had a drawing made of him in his bedroom, then he should be on the victim's side. If he's being pressed into retiring, then I think that he got on Tanner's bad side. Look at Brannan and Amaya; they file complaints against Tanner and they're gone and if Kessel bats for Zimmerman, then he gets shipped out as well."
"Yeah, looks like Tanner's the guy that rubs many the wrong way. Why is that?" Tony asked as he knocked on the door.
"He's selfish," McGee growled, "I heard him say about his father's service. He wants it to be like it was back then, and was trying to change it to make it so."
Tony was inclined to agree, but said nothing to this as the door opened revealing a slightly shorter man wearing a long sleeve gray shirt and khaki pants with a red face and sweat forming on his forehead.
"Commander Kessel?" McGee asked.
"Yes?" the man replied, "Who are you?" raising an eyebrow. He didn't get many visitors to his home, so if two men in suits were here then it had to be for only one reason.
Both men produced their badges and identified themselves, "I'm Agent McGee and this is Agent DiNozzo with NCIS"
"You must be here for Zimmerman. Come in." stepping aside and swinging the door open. The house was full of boxes all labeled with their contents. The kitchen to their immediate right had been cleared out. Shutting the door, Kessel walked around them and into the kitchen and said, "Sorry for the mess, but I'm packing for my great and glorious retirement" throwing his fat arms into the air, his words dripping with sarcasm.
"Sir, we have some questions for you" McGee said keeping pace behind the officer.
"Ask away"
"What was Tanner like?"
"That bastard" his words falling thick and heavy. "He took command after Commander Stevens did and shot everything to hell!" Swinging a hand down onto the polished stone counter-top with a bang, "Destroyed everything!" he cried, "When Stevens was there he ran a tight ship. People were happy. We had a real family growing, real trust. But, when Tanner, that fat dumbbell, came in-it was like a tornado" twirling the extended index finger on his right hand made a circle simulating a tornado going up to the ceiling, "Get this, Stevens wanted to do something that would be a contest to challenge the minds of his subordinates and have a prize. Zimmerman had this idea of making a poetry contest. Not having any other good ideas, Stevens implemented it with a gift card reward. It starts small, but in a year it grows!" speaking in surprise, "Then there was another contest for art and then another for writing stories. They became a big hit, and there was finally interaction with not only the unit-but with people on the base and their families. It was going great until Tanner came and when his fat ass sat down-he cut off everything. The contests were gone with him saying that they were a waste. I said that they were the best things in the world, but he said that I was 'living in the past' and said that the only way this unit was going to be taken seriously with the Brass is if we get with the times!"
The two agents stood there side by side in silence as the officer unloaded on them. After a few minutes of this, Lt. Cmdr Kessel paused and looked at them and said, "I'm sorry, boys. In my old age...Bah...I wish I were ten years younger" slowly balling his fist, but the muscles around the knuckles were stiff and gave him pain, telling him that he was indeed too old. "Ten years..." saying it almost to himself.
"Sir..." McGee asked, but the commander sighed, "I failed him" dropping his face into his hands.
"Sir?" McGee asked.
"Zimmerman. I failed him. He came to me begging for help, but I couldn't...I couldn't help him. I tried. I just couldn't..." He began to cry into his hands. "I was passed over twice for promotion to commander. Failing to reach it I was forced to retire and it was because of Tanner. He marked my file. He did that to everyone that he didn't like. Zimmerman was on the fast track going up because he did everything and wasn't a kiss ass like that dog Salvador or his flunkies. Hell, he could be a Chief Petty Officer by now! What might have been..." his voice trailing off. He had to look away from the agents. He didn't want them to see him cry. He was a proud man with a long service to his country and to the Navy, but in the end it meant nothing as he couldn't protect those that he cared about.
"Sir, if I may ask..."
"You may ask, son" Kessel replied going to the sink and stood hunched over it, the talk making him sick to the stomach, "But I know what you're going to ask. I don't know who shot that boy. Could be anyone, but I know it's not Tanner or Salvador. They're cowards. They couldn't do something like that. They had to get someone else, someone with more backbone, to shoot him."
Back at the office, Gibbs continued his interview with Amaya. She said that Salvador ran in a pack of fellow petty officers that were called "The Rat Pack" not because they were a group of talented singers, but because they were a bunch of rodents. "They began hounding the women in the detachment, propositioning them, sneaking pictures of them as they worked, and became pests. Again, we told this to Tanner, but he said that we "need to lighten up. You should be flattered that a guy is talking to you"." Just saying that made Amaya's blood flow with anger. "Agent Gibbs, that Tanner is nothing more than enabler. I mean, he may not have done these things, but he let them happen. I don't know if he was involved directly with Zimmerman's shooting, but I believe that he had something to do with it. Maybe he paid a man to do it, or what, but..."
"I know, ma'am" Gibbs nodded, "But I can't go on beliefs. If we did, then we would have to arrest everyone that you and Brannan complained about."
The lieutenant then rested her tired hand on her right hand now propped up on the table, "I wonder if wouldn't be better if you did" she mused.
There was a knock on the door and a head appeared. It was a technician from the video conference room, "Excuse me, sir, but we've made the connection with the sergeant in Florida."
"Thank you," Gibbs turned his head to him and nodded before rising up, "If you'll excuse me, lieutenant, but I have to make an important call. Agent Ziva will finish here and we'll get you on your way."
Before he could take another step, the lieutenant asked, "Will I be able to see Zimmerman?"
"I don't know, but we can give you the hospital and room where he and thanked her for the long travel, but he wasn't done with her yet. He entered the room next to Salvador's room with the one way mirror where he found Ziva still there, watching the man through the one way mirror. "How long has he been in there?" Gibbs enquired looking at the nervous wreck.
"About three hours" Ziva replied with a smile liking his suffering.
"Good" Gibbs nodded, "You have the victim's possessions from Salvador's vehicle?"
Stepping aside Ziva pointed to a small table that had a stack of items including a pen set, paper pad, and a small bound notebook. Ziva reached down, picked up the notebook and opened the cover, "This was a diary that Zimmerman was using. It began about two years ago and documented a lot of Salvador's and Tanner's events. It's last entry was made three days after he went to JAG."
"That's when Tanner and Salvador figure out what has happened they try to get rid of every one," Gibbs said taking the diary and looking at the entries himself. The writing was small and smooth showing the delicate touch that the victim possessed. "They transfer out Brannan and Amaya and pressure Kessel to retire, but they try to pressure Zimmerman out, but he wouldn't break."
"Oh, it gets better" Ziva said, "While I got a call from another sailor in their detachment who said that he hung with Salvador's group. It seems that when Salvador stole Zimmerman's diary, he read the pages out loud for all the good ol' boys."
"Is his mind still in high school?" Gibbs replied twisting his head towards Salvador through the one way mirror.
"Seems that way" Ziva concurred, "I remember when I was little, my sister stole my diary and did the same thing. I was heart broken. She read about how I had a crush on a guy in school and told him."
"What did you do?"
"I got even" smiling with sinister intent. "She and her boyfriend went out on a date. I slipped out and followed them and when they were eating. I spiked their drinks and made them sick, but I put too much in and she was sick for several days. I told her it was my fault and that I was sorry and she said she was sorry for doing what she did. We forgave each other."
"You think Zimmerman could forgive Salvador?"
Thinking for a moment, Ziva turned her head towards Salvador and saw his worried face, "I don't know. But, if it were me in Zimmerman's place...I would hang him"
"That's what I thought" Gibbs replied.
"So, do we let Salvador go?"
"No" Gibbs said, "Keep him stewing. In fact, take that diary in there and ask him about it. I like to see him squirm."
"With pleasure" Ziva said taking the diary back.
Before he left the room, Gibbs paused and slowly turned about and looked at his subordinate, "By the way, did he consent to a vehicle search?"
"That's the strange thing, sir," Ziva smiled, "He surprisingly DID consent to a search" holding up a set of keys from her pocket, "He just doesn't know it."
"Good work, Ziva" Gibbs smirked.
"Where are you going, sir?" she asked.
"I'm going to make a phone call" Gibbs replied as he left the room.
With the diary in hand, Ziva walked casually into the interview room with Salvador who nearly left his chair when she entered. "Can I go now? I've been here for hours!" he cried, "I have things to do."
"We're not done with you" Ziva replied sitting across from him. She held the diary up in the air above the surface of the table and let it drop with a bang that made the sailor shudder. He recognized what it was, his eyes widened and curled his fingers into his palms.
"You know what this is, don't you?" Ziva asked.
Wetting his half pursed lips Salvador nodded, "Yeah. And you had no right to go into my vehicle!" he roared. "I know my rights, and you can't search it without my consent!"
"Funny. Because you don't have the right to take something that doesn't belong to you to begin with" Ziva replied giving him a mocking smirk. Opening up the book to a ear-marked page about halfway through, there was an entry that was a bit enticing. Leaning back in her seat with the book held with both hands she scanned the words for a moment then looked over the top of the book at the wide eyes of the sailor, "From what I hear, you like to embarrass people that don't agree with you. You like to steal from them as well. And you don't like it when women boss you around. To me, you sound like a bully. I don't like bullies" her beaming smile reappeared as she lowered the book a little to show her full face, "So tell me, Salvador, why don't you try to boss me around?"
Agent Gibbs walked into the tele-video conference room and spoke to the techs that were on duty. They had established their connection to a Marine in Florida who was patiently waiting for Gibbs. He wore khaki top with several ribbons over his left breast pocket and qualification badges for rifle, pistol, and grenade-all Expert level. His hair was a crew-cut sandy brown and thin hazel eyes, and when he spoke it was with confidence, "Marine Recruiting Sergeant William Thresher, how can I help you, sir?"
"Afternoon, leatherneck" Gibbs nodded with pride.
"Oo-rah!" the sergeant smiled.
"I'm NCIS Agent Jethro Gibbs here in D.C. We're involved in a case up here. A sailor was shot in Emery Park. I'm sure you've heard it in the news."
"Indeed, sir" the sergeant replied, "We were told to keep a look out, use the Battle Buddy System when we're off duty until they find the shooter. How's that going?"
"We haven't located him yet" shaking his head lightly in disappointment, "Do you remember a Petty Officer Robert Zimmerman?"
"Aye, sir" he nodded again, "I do. He saved my ass in Iraq. A car bomb sent fragments into both of my legs and he ran out and pulled from the kill zone. I gave him my K-Bar after I got back from Germany."
"You gave him the knife? Gibbs asked.
"Put it right into his hand, sir" the man said, "I tracked him down in D.C and went to see him personally."
Nodding lightly Gibbs kept his steel blue eyes on the screen to watch the next reaction. "You know where I found that blade?" Gibbs asked.
The sergeant tilted his head slightly to the right inquisitively, "No, sir?"
"After you gave him that blade, Zimmerman's CO, a Commander Tanner, took it and had it mounted in his office and said that it was a present for himself"
The sergeant's face blazed red with anger then came the crash of his fist slamming against the face of his desk and mouthing, "Son of a bitch!" It took a moment for him to compose himself and when he did he drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Sir, I gave that to Zimmerman because that man saved my ass. It was for him and for him alone!"
"I understand that, son. I was in the Corps as well and know what it means to give a K-Bar to another man"
Drawing a pen from his breast pocket Thresher slid a pad of paper before him, "What's Tanner's address?"
When Ziva left the interview room, Salvador was a blubbering mess. He knew that his career in the service was done. Tanner couldn't protect him. He was dead to rights with theft with what was recovered, but Ziva had to tread carefully with what they have. So far, they still didn't have any physical evidence that he took part in Zimmerman's shooting, but he stood to lose everything still with thievery. Abby went through his records, lots of fast food, strip clubs, and booze, but nothing that looked like a possible payment to a hit man. His phone records showed a lot of phone calls to Tanner during off duty hours, and to his buddies in the detachment, but none of them bore any resemblance to the shooter Daisy witnessed. The same for Tanner's records, until something caught Abby's keen eye that made her call Gibbs on his cell as he was leaving the tele-video conference room.
"Yeah, Abby?"
"Gibbs, I found something. When Tanner went to all of his stores he always asked for cash back, usually twenty or forty at a time. Well, in the course of five months I was able to calculate that with all of his cash back he accumulated exactly $5,000."
"That's quite a bit of change" Gibbs replied.
"Exactly. That money disappeared" Abby said, "He paid for everything with his debit card. Everything! But this hard cash just disappeared. I could find no deposits in any of his other accounts."
"He could have used it at a strip club..."
"Or," Abby said, "Money to buy a hit man"
They could get Salvador for possession of stolen property, but these two looked good for shooting of Zimmerman because they stood to lose the most, but what they didn't have was direct evidence. If they could get the shooter and get him to talk then that would be the last piece of the puzzle and this missing $5000 might be the key they needed. "Good work, Abby" Gibbs replied hanging up.
"Boss? BOSS!" Tony called out as he ran through the maze of cubicles to Gibbs then stood before him, "Boss. State Troopers have located the shooter outside of Frederick. They pulled him over for a broken tail light, found the vehicle was stolen and he ran into a small house and took a hostage."
Reaching into his desk, Gibbs clipped his piece to his belt, "Let's go".