Jethro knew he had to focus, so turned back towards his team. The case had barely started, but his instincts were already tugging at him, suggesting there was more to this than a simple robbery gone wrong or random violence. His gut was rarely wrong, and he trusted it implicitly.

After the girls' supposed deaths, after he'd ignored the screaming in his gut that said if he left that he wouldn't see them again, Jethro told himself he'd never make the same mistake again. Jethro swore to himself that if the scream came back… he wouldn't just hear it, he would listen to it. So, he listened to the scream that was saying the worst monsters lie in wait. The worst monsters let you breathe. They let you think it's over. They lull you to sleep, and then… enter Hernández.

Back at the Navy Yard, they reconvened in the bullpen to discuss their findings. McGee was the first one to speak up. "Talked to a couple of locals who were out walking their dogs this morning," he began, pulling up a map on the plasma screen. "One of them reported hearing what sounded like a single gunshot around midnight. No one saw anything unusual, though, and the area's pretty quiet after dark."

Jethro nodded. "What about cameras?"

"Only one nearby," McGee replied, pointing to a small convenience store on the map. "But it's on a two-hour recording loop. If the shooter passed through, the footage is already gone."

Jethro clenched his jaw. "Check it anyway. Might still catch a break."

"Ziva?" he prompted, turning to her.

"I spoke with the local police," she replied. "There were no recent reports of suspicious activity in the area, but…" She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There was an assault three nights ago about a mile from here. Similar signs of a struggle, but the victim managed to escape. He reported his attacker was wearing a mask and carrying a weapon."

"Could be connected," Jethro said. "Get me the victim's name. I want to talk to him."

Ziva nodded, already reaching for her phone.

DiNozzo leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. "The Petty Officer's C.O. says our victim, Jason Kane, was clean as a whistle. No disciplinary issues, no financial troubles, nothing. But—" He straightened up, his tone shifting. "Kane was scheduled to testify next week in a court-martial case. A big one."

Jethro raised an eyebrow. "Who's on trial?"

"Lieutenant Commander Evan Royce," DiNozzo replied, pulling up the file. "Accused of selling classified Navy intel to foreign buyers. Kane was one of the key witnesses for the prosecution."

"That's a hell of a motive," McGee said, glancing at Jethro.

Jethro nodded, his mind already working through the implications. "McGee, dig into Royce's financials, phone records, everything. I want to know if he's got someone doing his dirty work."

"What about me, Boss?" DiNozzo asked.

"You're with me," Jethro said. "We're going to pay Royce a visit."

Jethro grabbed his coat, signalling for DiNozzo to follow. As they headed for the elevator, Jethro's gut tightened further - a familiar weight he couldn't shake. Something about this case felt too calculated, too clean. His instincts told him they were only scratching the surface.

The drive to Royce's upscale Arlington home was quiet, except for the hum of the engine. DiNozzo, however, couldn't resist breaking the silence.

"You think Royce is our guy, Boss?" he asked, his gaze flicking between Gibbs and the road ahead.

Jethro kept his eyes fixed on the passing buildings. "Doesn't matter what I think. We follow the evidence."

DiNozzo smirked. "Classic Gibbs answer."

Pulling into the driveway of a modern, two-story house with manicured hedges, Gibbs stepped out of the car. DiNozzo followed, adjusting his jacket and taking in the surroundings.

"Nice place for a guy who's supposedly under investigation," DiNozzo muttered.

Jethro shot him a look. "Well, they do say crime pays."

They approached the front door, and Jethro knocked sharply. A moment later, a woman in her early forties, dressed in business casual attire, opened the door. Her wary eyes flicked between the two agents.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"NCIS," Jethro said, holding up his badge as he declared himself. "We're here to speak with Lieutenant Commander Royce."

Her expression tightened, and she hesitated before answering. "He's in the study. One moment." She stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.

The house was immaculate, with polished hardwood floors and framed Navy accolades lining the walls. A few seconds later, Royce appeared at the end of the hallway. Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence filled the space. His sharp, tailored suit was a stark contrast to the scowl on his face.

"This better be important," Royce said, crossing his arms. "I've already given NCIS everything they need for this witch hunt."

Gibbs didn't blink. "Jason Kane's dead."

Royce's scowl faltered for a fraction of a second before he masked it with an air of indifference. "Should I know who that is?"

DiNozzo stepped forward, his tone casual but probing. "You should. He was going to testify against you in your court-martial next week."

Royce's jaw tightened, and he gestured for them to follow him into the study. Once inside, he poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the desk. "Listen, I don't know what happened to Kane, but I had nothing to do with it."

"Convenient timing," Jethro said, his voice sharp as steel. "Your star witness ends up dead, and you're telling me it's just a coincidence?"

Royce glared at him. "I'm telling you I don't need to stoop to murder to win my case. My lawyer's already poked a dozen holes in Kane's testimony. The prosecution didn't have a leg to stand on."

"Right," DiNozzo drawled, leaning casually against a bookshelf. "Because selling classified intel makes you such an upstanding citizen."

Royce's temper flared. "I didn't sell anything. The charges are bogus, and you know it. Kane was a liar."

"Funny," Jethro said, stepping closer. "Your financial records say otherwise. Offshore accounts, sudden spikes in cash deposits—looks to me like you were profiting just fine."

Royce paled, his confidence cracking just slightly. "You don't have proof of anything."

"Not yet," Jethro said, his voice low and menacing. "But I will. If you're lying to me, Royce, I'll bury you so deep you'll wish you'd been court-martialed."

Royce swallowed hard but didn't reply. Jethro and DiNozzo exchanged a glance before turning to leave.

As they walked back to the car, DiNozzo let out a low whistle and eyed him. "Guy's as shady as they come."

"Yeah," Jethro said, sliding into the driver's seat. "But he's not stupid. If he's behind this, he didn't pull the trigger himself."