Chapter Five
Once Rick Balboa left the pub, Tony ordered another beer and took a long pull. Gibbs was supposed to meet him in order to share notes, but as what typically happened lately whenever he was alone, Tony's thoughts began to spiral into darkness and despair. If he had been banished out to sea like Vance wanted, he wondered if he might've chosen a swan dive off the fantail if it got bad enough.
This entire mess was his fault. He should've followed Director Shepherd. He was on a protection detail – that was his job. He should've put his mistrust over her private vendettas on the back burner and done his fucking job. She might be alive now if he had. Her death in such a gruesome, thoroughly outnumbered manner hung like an albatross around his neck. The guilt was eating him alive. He quickly guzzled his beer and signaled for another.
He'd tried to call her back in LA, just to check that she was alright – mostly because of Ziva's persistence in thinking there was something wrong. When she'd answered, Jenny's voice held that same tone she used whenever he'd questioned the Grenouille op, or Jeanne's involvement in it. It conveyed the same meaning:
'Just follow my instructions, and don't ask questions. I know what I'm doing.'
He knew there was something wrong then, just as he suspected she was up to something this time. How could he have known it would turn out this badly? His inner voice attempted to rationalize, but there was no excuse. He should've followed her, and he hadn't. He screwed the pooch in a major way. Vance was right to be disgusted with him.
Thinking of Jenny soon turned to where it always led – back to Jeanne. He wondered where she was, and how she was doing. The last image he remembered was her devastated face in the elevator after he'd broken her heart for a second time. It haunted him. He hadn't been able to even think about going on a date with anyone since, and the few times a woman approached him, he'd blown it by talking about Jeanne. He couldn't get her out of his head… and if he was being honest… he couldn't get her out of his heart, either.
"If that's not an expression of someone suffering from a broken heart, I'll eat my hat," the waitress delivering his beer said, pulling him from his agonized thoughts.
She was cute. Dark hair and a bustline that was seriously testing the restraints of her tight T-shirt. Tony grimaced, not in the mood to chat.
He paid for his drink and immediately brought the frothy glass to his lips, hoping she'd get the hint to leave him alone.
She didn't.
"Some people say bartenders are good listeners. Cocktail waitresses can be, too," she said, smiling hopefully.
Before he had to let her down, Gibbs arrived, oblivious to the scene he was interrupting – or more likely not caring. He slid into the chair Balboa had occupied and brusquely asked her for a beer. She looked over at Tony one more time, disappointed, but he turned his attention away. For the first time in his adult life, other women didn't really interest him.
"What did Balboa have to say?" Gibbs asked, typically avoiding any small talk.
Tony took a swig of his fresh beer. He'd had a couple with Balboa, as well, but the alcohol wasn't giving him that happy buzz he was seeking. Instead, it seemed to be tugging him even further into that dark hole he was trying to avoid.
"He acknowledged that Vance wanted him to oversee both teams, but he refused. Apparently your new team is just sitting there at our desks awaiting your triumphant return," he said.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows, catching Tony's mood.
"You know that's not going to happen," he said blandly.
Tony shrugged. "The interesting bit is that he did offer to take Kevin Hussein onto his own team, but Vance nixed it. He said those three are a team and go together."
"So, it does revolve around those three," Gibbs said, eyes narrowing.
"That appears to be the shape of it," Tony said, shifting uncomfortably under Gibbs sharp eyes.
He knew the boss would notice that he'd had a few, but Tony wasn't interested in his disapproval. He was a grown adult and could make his own choices – even if they were bad ones.
The waitress returned with Gibbs' drink; her attitude much cooler. Gibbs took a sip, then pinned Tony with his gaze.
"Talk," he said.
Tony rolled his eyes. Typical Gibbs – demand answers without ever offering any of his own. Normally, Tony would roll with it, but not this time. For some reason, Tony's anger and frustration chose this moment to finally boil over.
"You want me to talk, Boss? That's different. Usually, you want me to shut up. What would you like to talk about, aside from the fact we're both out of jobs, and our former director is dead thanks to yours truly," Tony said hotly.
Gibbs winced. Well, he almost winced. Gibbs rarely showed emotion, yet Tony knew Jenny's death hurt him, and Gibbs was still processing that pain. Tony felt like an even bigger heel. He wasn't angry at Gibbs, and it wasn't fair to take his own bottled-up emotions out on a man who was not only grieving, but less equipped than even Tony to deal with feelings.
"Sorry, Boss – I wasn't thinking," he said, lowering his eyes because he was unable to face Gibbs' pain.
"Don't apologize," Gibbs said.
Since Tony was staring at the table, he could see the bottom of Gibbs' beer mug lift as he took a swallow.
"Sign of weakness. I know," Tony replied.
"No. It's unnecessary. Her death wasn't your fault," Gibbs said.
Tony looked up incredulously. "How do you figure that? I should've followed her. You know that."
Gibbs shook her head. "She didn't want you to follow her."
"That wouldn't have stopped you," Tony fired back.
"Maybe not – until she pissed me off enough that I walked away in anger, giving her the opportunity to slip away," Gibbs said.
Something told Tony this wasn't just a what-if scenario, but he didn't have the guts to ask. He just stared, a cacophony of emotions stirring inside. Gibbs never shared. It was like one of the twelve rules of the universe or something – he was sure of it.
Gibbs took a deep breath, and despite how difficult a man he was to read, Tony could tell he was having an internal debate. His curiosity was piqued. With bated breath, he managed to restrain himself from blurting out a question, thus giving Gibbs time to organize his thoughts.
"You couldn't have saved her," Gibbs said at last.
"You don't know that. Ziva and I would've at least been two more guns. She didn't have to die alone," Tony said bitterly.
Gibbs shook her head. "You still couldn't have saved her."
Despite the guilt clouding his judgement, Tony could tell there was more Gibbs was trying to say, but he'd had a few too many, and he'd been over this too many times to see it clearly anymore.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"She was already dying. She chose to go out on her own terms, preferring a blazing gun battle to a slow deterioration. Can't say I blame her," Gibbs said heavily.
Tony could see from the haggard lines around Gibbs' eyes and mouth how much it cost him to admit it. He sat back, stunned, his mind reeling.
"How do you know?" he asked.
It wasn't in Gibbs' nature to make something up just to make Tony feel better. From his demeanor, Tony knew it was the truth, he was just having trouble wrapping his head around it. It was how he'd prefer to go out at the end, too.
"Ducky," Gibbs said.
Of course. Still, despite Ducky's penchant for revealing Tony's medical status, he was surprised he'd reveal this. That seemed to cross a line.
Gibbs apparently knew what he was thinking. "I put a few things together."
"Of course you did," Tony said.
Did this change anything? Even if he had followed her, she might've managed to dodge him if she was that determined. And if he did manage to stop the shootout in that deserted little diner, he still wouldn't have been able to save her life. She'd resent him for taking away her choice. A bitter side of him, a side hidden deep within his heart, a side that he tried to keep buried, wondered if he'd care. Jenny certainly didn't give a damn about his choices.
"You had valid reasons to mistrust her. You weren't wrong," Gibbs said.
Tony sat back, pushing his beer away, contemplating. It didn't really change anything – except maybe how Tony felt about it, which was probably Gibbs' goal.
"Why don't you just go after her?" Gibbs asked.
Tony shook his head at the non-sequitur. Didn't he just tell Tony why it wouldn't have mattered. Maybe the alcohol was slowing him down, but he and Gibbs were usually on the same page.
The boss wasn't talking about Jenny anymore.
He shrugged. "And say what? Sorry for screwing up your life, and letting you live a lie?"
"Tell her it wasn't all a lie," Gibbs said.
Tony found it ironic that Gibbs – the functional mute – was telling him to talk about his feelings. He'd officially entered the Twilight Zone. Besides, he had no idea where in the world Jeanne went after their last encounter.
"You're an investigator – investigate. You can find her if you really want to," Gibbs said, proving his ability to read Tony's mind yet again.
Tony sat up straight, his mind racing as the idea finally took shape and tugged him from his despair. It was almost as if Gibbs' obvious approval unlocked something buried inside him. Could he find her? Would she listen?
"Can we talk about the case now?" Gibbs asked, clearly at the end of his patience for touchy-feely stuff.
Tony didn't know the boss even had it in him, but he was grateful that Gibbs let it show in order to pull Tony out of his funk. That meant more than the functional mute would ever know.
"Yeah. What d'you got?" Tony asked cheekily, throwing Gibbs catch-phrase back at him.
"You better be sober enough to face SecNav," Gibbs said.
Tony looked up, startled. "What?"
"Morrow called. We have a meeting with SecNav in," he lifted his wrist to glance at his watch, "about an hour."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Tony asked, pushing the rest of his beer away in dismay.
"You didn't give me a chance," Gibbs replied.
Tony took a deep breath. "Okay. We have time to stop and get a coffee first, right?"
"I was planning on it," Gibbs said, still sipping his beer as if he had every intention of finishing it.
Tony knew he was just trying to show that he could still be a bastard when he wanted to be and didn't want that reputation to soften.
They arrived at the Secretary of the Navy's house at nightfall, after stopping at Gibbs' favorite spot for a cup of brew. DiNozzo still doctored his with all the sweet stuff he preferred, but it did its job, and his SFA's gaze was more focused.
Gibbs wasn't naïve enough to believe it was just the coffee. He'd felt some trepidation revealing Jen's personal medical history, but it couldn't hurt her now, and DiNozzo needed to hear it. The guilt was eating the younger man alive, and there was absolutely nothing he could've done to stop her once she set her mind on a course.
He knew – he'd once tried.
He also knew that he hadn't been supportive when his SFA was suffering through a bad break-up. Gibbs had certainly dealt with his fair share. Maybe giving DiNozzo a push in the right direction could also give him a shot at the happiness that had long eluded Gibbs. DiNozzo deserved that chance.
Philip Davenport, the Secretary of the Navy, lived in an upscale neighborhood outside Washington. When they'd rang the bell, a housekeeper ushered them into a secure room on the first floor of the grand home. There was a sliding glass door overlooking a large expanse of lush green grass and blooming flora. Even covered in darkness, it was obvious the landscaping was impeccable.
Gibbs and DiNozzo sat alone in the cavernous room. Gibbs used the time to relax and savor the silence, while DiNozzo's eyes were in constant motion, cataloging everything in the handsomely decorated room. He was doing it quietly, anyway, which was unusual for DiNozzo, but something about the ambiance of the room called for reserve.
They weren't there long before the door opened wide, and SecNav entered, followed closely by Tom Morrow. SecNav poured drinks all around and sat across from them.
"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, thank you for coming," he said, although his face remained stern and foreboding.
"I've shared your concerns about the situation at NCIS, and we'd like to find a solution that benefits all involved," Morrow said, nodding at SecNav to take over.
"Naturally Director Shepherd's death was unexpected and tragic. You have my sympathies. That said, however, I'd like to understand the extreme pushback on my decision to appoint Leon Vance as the new director," he said with little warmth.
Gibbs didn't believe for a minute that he was sorry about Jenny's death. He was aware Davenport liked to utilize intimidation to get his way. Fortunately, Gibbs used the same tactic, so he knew to push back.
"Are you aware Vance's first act as director was to break up the MCRT?" he asked, immediately going on the offensive.
DiNozzo's eyes widened slightly at the tactic, but like the loyal Saint Bernard he'd always been, he backed Gibbs up at once.
"The MCRT, whose stellar success rate has always been NCIS's biggest achievement," DiNozzo said.
"I am aware. While it isn't the course of action I would've chosen, Vance has my trust as a leader," Davenport said pointedly.
"Then there's really nothing left to discuss," Gibbs said, putting his drink on the coffee table and standing.
DiNozzo followed suit.
"Hold on just a minute," Davenport said, waving his hands to indicate they should sit back down. "I didn't say I wouldn't listen to your complaint."
"There's no complaint, Mr. Secretary. We resigned," DiNozzo said.
"I'm aware, but I don't see a reason to lose two good agents over a simple restructuring," Davenport said.
Gibbs knew what he was doing. He was trying to control the situation and their decision. Patting them on the heads like good little soldiers and expecting them to return to their posts because he'd generously listened to their grievances. That wasn't how this was going to work.
"It's not a restructuring. It's a demolition of the team I spent years building," Gibbs said.
"I understand you're upset, but there's no reason we can't compromise," Davenport said.
"No, sir," Gibbs said.
Davenport smiled, pleased he'd got them to see reason so quickly. "There now. Tell me what we can do to ease this transition?"
"You misunderstood… sir," DiNozzo said.
"I misunderstood what, son?" Davenport asked.
Tom Morrow sank down in his chair, covering his mouth with his hand because he could see where this was going more clearly than Davenport.
"I wasn't agreeing with you. I mean there'll be no compromise," Gibbs said.
Davenport's eyes widened in surprise. "Do you realize to whom you're speaking, Gunny?"
"I do, sir. The Secretary of the Navy – my former boss." Gibbs said.
If he had to, he was prepared to walk away. As far as he was concerned, Davenport was making a mistake in standing with Vance. He knew the man wasn't happy with Vance's actions, but he was insinuating he was going to allow it. If that was the case, there was nothing more to discuss. He wasn't going to back out on DiNozzo now.
"Mr. Secretary – if I may," Morrow said, interrupting. "Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo don't believe you can simply insert other people on a team and expect the same results. Teamwork takes time. These two agents have been together for a long while. Agents McGee and Officer David were added gradually to an existing set-up."
"Director Shepherd didn't inform me there was any pushback when she placed Officer David on the MCRT, and that was a more questionable placement than three actual agents," Davenport said with some heat.
"There was," Gibbs replied.
If Jenny hadn't informed the Secretary of his initial concerns about Ziva's placement, that wasn't on him. There were extenuating circumstances that didn't exist this time.
DiNozzo shifted slightly beside him but remained mute – quite an accomplishment for DiNozzo.
"And yet you did relent in the end," Davenport said, eyes narrowed.
"Putting a single new person on an existing team isn't the same as forming an entirely new one, sir. If you're not concerned with a drop-off in the success rate, that's one thing, but you need to know it will happen," DiNozzo said, and he had more success than Gibbs in keeping his tone polite yet saying what he meant.
He always did have better manners.
"You don't know that," Davenport said.
"I can guarantee it," Gibbs said.
"With all due respect, sir – a team needs time to gel while learning each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies. It doesn't just happen overnight," DiNozzo said.
"Those three will never work the same as the existing MCRT – no matter how much time they work together," Gibbs said.
Davenport scowled doubtfully. "I understand you're fond of your team, Gibbs, but what makes them so unique?"
"The combination of the people," Gibbs said, aware he caught DiNozzo by surprise by outright saying it.
"All the agents at NCIS are capable of doing their jobs, Agent Gibbs. Otherwise, they wouldn't be there," Davenport said.
"I have the muscle in Ziva, the brains in McGee, but DiNozzo is the wildcard. That's not something easily replaced," Gibbs said, amused to see Tony's mouth actually fall open.
It was true. It was the combination of skills and strengths that made the MCRT so successful. DiNozzo's contributions weren't as readily apparent, but true investigators like him were a rare breed and worth their weight in gold. Both McGee and Ziva lacked the creativity to see things the way Tony did, and they often discounted him because of it. Gibbs had always appreciated DiNozzo's insight, but he lacked the grace to make DiNozzo aware of it.
"If you'll let me, Mr. Secretary," Morrow said, placatingly. "I've seen these two agents work together, and I can attest to a connection between them. Sometimes they communicate without even speaking. As you're aware, I was the director of NCIS for quite a number of years, and believe me when I say that Agent Gibbs is not an easy man to work for. Agent DiNozzo was able to… let's just say smooth the way for others to join them."
"We believe there's something going on involving the three agents now assigned to the MCRT, and that's why we were disbanded," DiNozzo said, cutting right to the chase.
He was always uncomfortable if he actually received the praise he seemingly craved. It was one of DiNozzo's many idiosyncrasies.
Davenports' eyes widened. "What makes you say that?"
"One of them is a lawyer, and everyone knows how Gibbs feels about lawyers. Agent Lee, the lawyer, and Agent Hussein aren't even qualified field agents yet. It makes no sense to assign them to the MCRT. There's something about those three Vance wants together. It reminds me of the team Director Shepherd left me with for a brief time, and she definitely had ulterior motives. This feels the same," DiNozzo said.
"Vance mentioned a National Security breech. It involves those agents," Gibbs said.
Davenport stared at them both for a prolonged moment, a tic working in his jaw. Gibbs stared right back, unwavering.
"We wanted your assistance on a matter of grave importance, Agent Gibbs. I'm disappointed you're unwilling to help," Davenport said at last.
"I haven't been asked to help," Gibbs replied.
It was true. All Vance had said was meet your new team. It was only after Gibbs had refused to cooperate that he mentioned a threat. If Vance wanted something investigated, why take away Gibbs' investigators?
"Since you insist on being stubborn, and I need a resolution, I'm going to read you in," Davenport said. "This information is not to leave the room. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," they both replied.
"While in San Diego, Leon Vance was contacted by Petty Officer Steve Vargo. Vargo claimed he had gambling debts and was being blackmailed into leaking classified intel by someone at NCIS. He downloaded a critical file but had a change of heart. Since Vargo has a significant security clearance, Vance was suitably alarmed. He set up an in-person meeting with Vargo, only the Petty Officer never showed."
Both Gibbs and DiNozzo waited, knowing there was more.
Morrow took over the conversation. "Vargo worked in Strategic Planning, the building next to NCIS on the Navy yard. When his home was searched, there was no sign of him, but we seized his NCIS computer. We were able to access limited information, but most of what's on it is heavily encrypted, and as of yet, we've been unable to break it."
"So Vargo went to Vance instead of Shepherd because he was concerned that his whistleblowing might get leaked?" DiNozzo asked.
"We hope to be able to ask him about his reasoning once we manage to locate him," Davenport said, as if it was a given it would be done.
"You gave Vance the directorship of NCIS in order to locate Vargo? Then why break up the MCRT? We 're probably the best hope of finding him," Tony said incredulously.
"The focus has shifted from Vargo to the computer we retrieved, and the alleged blackmailer. We'd still like to question Vargo, but getting into that computer takes priority. What we were able to decipher enabled us to narrow down the suspects to three specific individuals," Davenport said.
"The new members of the MCRT," DiNozzo said, filling in the blanks.
"Why the hell would you put a potential traitor on my team?" Gibbs demanded.
"Vance hoped once you spent some time with them, your instincts might raise a red flag about one of them before any damage was done. He's using Agent McGee to assist in breaking the encryption, and Officer David to track down a lead. Your resignation certainly threw a wrench into that plan," Morrow said.
"So, you wanted my gut to tell you which one of them is guilty? Did it ever occur to you that I'm able to listen to my gut so often because I know my team is doing their jobs," Gibbs said angrily.
"You can't accuse your new team of not doing their jobs, Agent Gibbs. You never gave them a chance," Davenport said, scowling.
"I think what Agent Gibbs is trying to say is that because he has trust in his current team, he's allowed to focus on the overall picture. With new, inexperienced people, he won't have that luxury," Morrow said, attempting to lower the rising temperature of the room and get everyone to focus.
"We need your help," Davenport said bluntly.
Gibbs shook his head. "Not working with Vance. What the hell is the point of sending DiNozzo on a carrier?"
SecNav was irritated and annoyed. He clenched his lips and turned his head away, taking a deep breath.
"Gibbs and I are currently on vacation. What if we quietly poke around, see if we can locate Steve Vargo – strictly off the record," DiNozzo said, an eager sparkle in his eyes.
"That would be beneficial. Vance can do what he's doing, and you'll have them working another angle," Morrow said, playing peace-maker.
"And you'll get no one else involved?" Davenport asked.
"Since McGee is already working on the encryption, can we also use his assistance if needed?" Gibbs asked.
Davenport nodded, contemplating. "I'll inform Director Vance to allow it."
"He'll love that," DiNozzo muttered.
"And if we succeed?" Gibbs asked, unwilling to allow himself and DiNozzo to be used and then simply discarded. Neither of them needed that.
"We'll discuss that if it happens," Davenport said, his expression calculating.
Morrow slid their badges across the coffee table. "Consider it a special op you're undertaking for Homeland."
DiNozzo reached for his immediately, but Gibbs hesitated. He was going to help regardless – it was a matter of National Security – but he wasn't going to be left out in the cold once he and DiNozzo succeeded, and Vance failed. He had no doubt in his mind they'd figure this out.
Davenport stared, and no one moved for a moment. SecNav, the consummate politician, finally began to speak:
"While I'm unhappy with how Director Vance went about it, I really don't like being backed into a corner. I know you can relate to that, Agent Gibbs, so here's what I'm going to do. We'll make this a sort of friendly competition. If you succeed before Vance, then we'll talk."
Gibbs didn't trust him as far as he could throw him, but he did trust Morrow. Either way, he'd get what was needed, and NCIS would still be standing once it was over. Davenport would keep whoever would make him look better.
Gibbs picked up his badge. "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Secretary."
Note: Feedback is always appreciated. I just couldn't help myself putting a little nod toward Jeanne in there :D