A/N Sorry about the little shorty chapter. The next will be longer. Enjoy and review, please!
Chapter Five
"By accounts these were all accidents, Boss," Tim shook his head. He'd helped with interviews and then gone back to his specialty, with little more success. He pointed to a list on his laptop screen, Gibbs leaning over his shoulder to look. "And these," he pulled up another list, "are washouts without reported injury. Here's the previous rate of washouts from ten years ago." The graphic depiction showed a marked difference there as well. "I shoulda thought to look at that before, Boss. But check this out," Tim pulled up another graph, collating all data. "This shows the last ten years with every cadet who left before graduation. Started, like you said, six years ago, but there was no reduction of incidence when the staff turned over. Not even a blip."
"Anything happen around the time it all started?"
Tim shook his head. "The only employees who started when the increase in losses began were transferred or fired last year during the staff turnover. There have been no renovations, construction, long term guests, or projects of any kind which have lasted through the whole increase."
"Links between the vics? Including the washouts?"
"Working on it, but so far, they're men and women, all races, from California to Maine, different socio-economic backgrounds, some were scholarship recipients, others are naval royalty. Admiral Jessup's daughter washed out last year, Admiral Park's son two years previous. Those two are somewhat unusual; kids of high-ranking Naval officials rarely wash out."
"I'll have DiNozzo and Ziva interview them," Gibbs said.
"Pretty thin, Boss."
"It's the only oddity you've mentioned. You got a better idea?"
"No, it's just... I'm sure the Jessup and Park kids will have taken a lot of grief already," Tim winced as he imagined how his father would have reacted had it been him.
"Still gotta talk to them. Why don't you do those interviews?"
"Sure, Boss."
But even after speaking with the two former cadets, Tim was frustratingly in the dark, and after a week of investigating, Gibbs' team returned to headquarters to regroup.
Running every kind of analysis he could think of, from groundskeepers to guest speakers, time of day during accidents to witness voice variance, Tim was looking at everything.
"Boss, I got something. No idea what it means and it could be an anomaly, but-"
"Put it up on the plasma," Gibbs ordered. DiNozzo and Ziva joined Gibbs before the screen. A map of the United States came up, red dots popping into place all over the top half.
"The red dots indicate the home town of each victim," Tim said. Blue dots appeared. "This is the washouts," Tim explained. "There's only one southerner in either group, otherwise everyone is north of the Mason-Dixon line."
"Check backgrounds for southern biases. It's not much, but if it's all we got..."
The team scrambled back to their desks. Tim felt his phone buzz with a text but started a search running before he looked at it.
S-narrowing our search. Hoping to be done by thurs or fri. U?-
T-nearly nothing, & investigation will be ongoing. I'll get home to sleep a little each night unless we catch a break, but no free time. :-( -
S-even sleeping with you will be something. Can I stay at your apt when D goes back?-
T-of course. It'll be nice to think of u there. Jethro hasn't been home in a while- u wanna p/u?-
S-will do. I'll keep u updated when we're going in.-
T-stay safe, love-
S-u too-
~~~SPNCIS~~~
Having found a handful of staff members who might possibly have a bias in favor of southerners, Tony and Ziva had gone back to question some of the office workers. Using his considerable charm to good effect during the interview with a lieutenant, DiNozzo turned his attention to a young black secretary in the office of the registrar. She was less responsive than the previous woman, and Ziva watched her closely. When they had completed the last of the interviews and were back in the squad room, pieces fell into place with a report Tim found that the secretary had filed.
"So she had a problem with how Commander Rogers looked at her? Enough that she filed an actual complaint? C'mon, really?" DiNozzo scoffed.
"She was uncomfortable with your interrogation style," Ziva offered.
"What, the flirting? Women usually go for that," Tim added, half smirking. "Unless they know you. Did you ever date her?"
"Check out Rogers," Gibbs ordered, forestalling Tony's response to the teasing.
"Boss! Because he looked at her wrong?" Tony protested.
"No, DiNozzo, because I said so. We got nothin', so we're gonna run down every possible lead, you got that?" Gibbs snapped.
"Uh, Boss? We may have a problem. Rogers went on leave yesterday, saying his sister needed help with her kids," Tim began. Gibbs nodded sharply.
"No sister?"
"Well, there's a sister in Iowa, but no kids, Boss, and he took a car from the Academy, so-" typing quickly, Tim ran the gps trace. "What's the car doing in Middleton, Delaware?"
"Let's go find out," Gibbs snatched his coffee cup and jacket, and the rest of the team rushed to join him in the elevator, Tim rapidly setting his computer to run a full background search and send results to his phone before he skidded between the doors just before they closed.
~~~SPNCIS~~~
Sam had called all three of Dean's cell phones when he discovered the identity of their target. Getting no response, he dug deeper, feeling a sense of urgency, and decided not to wait any longer when his suspicions were confirmed. Commander Tyler Rogers had joined the staff at the Academy after the turnover, and then had changed personality enough to lose his girlfriend, alienate his friends, and receive repeated emails from his sister complaining about his lack of contact. Couple that with a hidden bank account with nearly unlimited funds and several contacts in the black market's arms community, and Sam was certain they had to stop him, now. And if Dean wasn't responding, well, Sam would have to do it himself.
Gathering the supplies for the witch-killing molotov took until mid-afternoon, then Sam headed out for the address he'd come across for a warehouse in Delaware. He left messages on Dean's phones, trying not to sound as pissed off as he felt.
When he arrived, Sam circled the warehouse carefully, noting the likely points of entry and trying to find a way scout the interior so he wouldn't have to go in blind. It was late in the afternoon and the warehouse district was deserted. His phone buzzed.
D-on my way. Do NOT go in without backup damnit-
Sam rolled his eyes but backed off. He hated waiting, but it would be safer if he had backup. His mind drifted to seeing Tim when this was over, of taking Jethro out for walks, being in the wonderful cocoon of Tim's apartment with his things and scent everywhere. Sleeping in Tim's bed, with Tim in his arms...
A muffled sound caught Sam's attention. He moved closer to the building, and the scream grew clearer. It sounded like a woman, and he knew he was done waiting. He returned to a door he'd determined was unlocked, and, crouching low, he opened it and slipped inside.
~~~SPNCIS~~~