"You look tired."
Morgan blinked slowly, hand running over Russell's head perched on her lap as Dr. Sandra McNeil crossed her legs and eyed her from her desk. It wasn't often people from NCIS voluntarily walked into her office and while some of their sessions were required, it wouldn't be the first time she had someone make up an excuse or simply sit in silence. Morgan Frost at least answered her questions, even if she was blunt about it.
"I didn't sleep well," the woman muttered
"Nightmares?"
She grunted with a nod, gaze trailing down to her dog.
"Are you taking your medication?"
Morgan shot her a small glare, as though her assumption that she wasn't was insulting. "Yes. Every morning when I get up and every evening before I sleep."
"If you sleep," Dr. McNeil pointed out, making the woman glance away in slight shame. "You need to take your sleep medication even if you don't feel tired or you don't wish to sleep. It's supposed to help."
"Doesn't stop the nightmares," Morgan muttered.
"I can give you a prescription for something stronger."
"No," Morgan said shortly. "I'm on call."
Dr. McNeil sighed with a nod. "Very well, then you need to start working on what we discussed last session." She didn't miss the frown that formed on Morgan's face. "How have things been with your team? Any progress?"
The frown deepened. "No."
"Have you tried making more connections with them?"
Silence.
"You can't expect your team to be able to work with you and help you if you're not willing to talk to them, Morgan."
"Gibbs won't even let me into the field, much less talk," she argued.
"What about your teammates? Agent McGee, Agent David, and Agent DiNozzo?"
"I am not talking to DiNozzo."
"You're not talking to anyone, currently," Dr. McNeil pressed. "I'm not saying you have to be close, just… chat. Have a conversation. Likes, dislikes, hobbies. Go out for drinks. You can't self-isolate on a team and perhaps that is part of the reason why Agent Gibbs isn't comfortable letting you go off on your own out in the field… aside from your penchant for getting into trouble."
Morgan frowned at the light jab as she went on.
"Now, the nightmares that you're trying to avoid. Anything specific? Anything you can remember?"
Again, her gaze drifted though this time there was something dark about it.
"It was… from before, when I…"
"You can say it, Morgan," Dr. McNeil lightly urged.
She pursed her lips for a moment, eyes flicking to Russell as he put a paw on her thigh and leaned further into her. "When I was… captured by the Al-Qaeda terrorist cell."
Dr. McNeil nodded, making a note on her computer. "Was there any reason for the nightmare? You mentioned before that they're not uncommon but they've been occurring more recently."
Morgan hesitated before begrudgingly answering. "My… first case here. There was a Lieutenant locked in the trunk of a car for hours. I… had a problem after."
"It reminded you of what happened," Dr. McNeil concluded and Morgan nodded.
"Gibbs noticed, took me aside." She looked at McNeil. "It can't happen again."
"That's not how things work, Morgan. What happened to you is a deep-seated trauma that won't just go away because you want it to. All we can do is manage it as best we can, and the start of that is by sharing your experience with someone you trust." Dr. McNeil shot her a look. "Which means you need to open up to someone other than Russell."
Russell's ear flicked toward McNeil at the sound of his name but continued to offer Morgan the comfort she needed.
"The other thing I suggest is letting Russell loose a little more," Dr. McNeil suggested. "He is more than capable of determining when you need his help, so give him a break too."
"I give him breaks," Morgan argued, offended.
"Then, let him stay behind sometimes," she suggested. "Leave him at your desk when you go to the lab. Let the other members of your team get to know him too and even let him help them. You're using him as a crutch, something to keep others from approaching you and preventing yourself from opening up. Working all the time isn't good for either of you. You need to relax."
"I relax," Morgan muttered.
"Spending hours boxing and doing spars doesn't count," Dr. McNeil countered, checking the time and sighing lightly. "Our session is up and you're supposed to have sensitivity training today. Go. I don't want to hear that you skipped out on it for some excuse. You'll be a little late as it is if you don't hurry."
Morgan frowned but stood as Russell happily bounded around her and came up to stand at her side.
"Same time next week unless something comes up," Dr. McNeil hummed, standing up and opening the door for her. "Take your medication properly this time. Not having good sleep and lack of self-care will cause issues on cases."
Morgan grumbled but didn't argue as she stepped out and Dr. McNeil spoke up from the doorway.
"You have my number if there's an emergency. Don't hesitate to call if something happens."
Morgan bobbed her head and stepped away, feeling mentally drained. As tempted as she was to come up with an excuse to skip the sensitivity training, Dr. McNeil had made note of it so it would be impossible without some sort of repercussion. So, begrudgingly she climbed up the stairs to join the others, running a hand through her hair before Gibbs suddenly stepped past.
"Sensitivity training is going to have to wait. We got a double homicide at Quantico. Marine wives. Grab your gear. You too, Frost."
Relieved, Morgan was quick to turn back down the stairs with Tony, Ziva, and McGee coming down behind her.
"Today!" Gibbs called as they moved faster.
"On your six, boss."
The team entered the home where two women were lying sprawled over the sofa, dead. Morgan was taking photos as the rest of the team searched the house; Russell staying close to her side waiting for commands. They would usually be sent around for scents but Gibbs hadn't said anything yet so they were going to have to wait. Information came first.
"You know, this kind of reminds me of my cousin's house... minus all the blood. Unless you count that Thanksgiving back in '98," Tony commented, making notes of what he'd found on the family as Ducky hummed and approached the bodies.
"Family does have a way of fraying one's nerves. Take my mother, for instance. She insists on watching Jeopardy every night on the television."
"What's wrong with that, Duck?"
"The same episode. Over and over again. I made the mistake of taping it for her once."
Palmer cracked a small smile. "I always say, you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your family."
"There's a touch of the poet in you, Mister Palmer."
"I'd say you're just more touched." Tony glanced over at Morgan. "What about you, Frost? Any fun family dinners?"
Morgan stopped taking pictures and stood, eyeing him. "No. No family for dinners."
Tony winced, assuming he'd stepped on a landmine but was interrupted before he could say anything more.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs called out as he headed over to get information.
"House belongs to a Sergeant Malcolm Porter and his wife, Sun, boss. She's the one on the left. Sergeant's still on liberty, trying to track him down. The other vic is Min Crane. She's married to a Sergeant Floyd Crane, currently deployed in Iraq."
"Gibbs," Morgan called out then, having taken a picture of something and heading over to push aside a picture frame on the wall.
"Sign of an unhappy marriage," Gibbs concluded as Ziva eyed the wall damage that had been hidden.
"Funny. I thought it looked like a hole in the wall."
"It's about fist-sized. Husband probably hit the wall instead of hitting his wife. What else do you see?"
Ziva eyed the two corpses on the sofa. "Well, judging by the position of the body I'd say they were taken by surprise."
"Yeah? Why?"
"Body posture. They're too relaxed. They didn't fight back. Of course, that could also mean they knew the identity of their attacker."
"Search the rest of the house," Gibbs ordered and she stepped away to do so as Tony smiled.
"Our little girl's becoming quite the crime scene investigator, isn't she, boss?" He lost his cheeky smile when Gibbs silently stared. "I'll help McGee talk to the women who found them."
"You got a T.O.D. yet, Duck?" Gibbs asked, glancing briefly over at Morgan as she continued to search the room in case there was something else she needed pictures of.
"Very recent. Both liver probes indicate about two and a half hours ago," Ducky replied as Gibbs pulled out a flashlight to see better in the shaded room.
"Triple tap, all in the heart."
"Yeah, but notice these burn marks around the entry wounds here… and on this one. In both of those the weapon was in direct contact with the body when fired."
"Two from across the room, then one each up close, just to be sure."
"I don't believe the term overkill would be inappropriate under these circumstances."
Gibbs leaned down and checked behind the couch. "Bullets didn't penetrate"
"Maybe they're a small caliber. Did you find any casings?"
"Ah, shooter policed his brass, Duck."
"Policed, sir?" Palmer questioned as Gibbs stepped out and Morgan responded as she checked the photos she'd already taken.
"The shooter cleaned up after himself. Picked up the casings to prevent leaving evidence. It's professional."
"Professional what?"
"Killer, Mister Palmer," Ducky explained. "These poor women weren't so much murdered as executed."
An empty gun safe pointed the group at the husband next and it didn't take long before the team heard word of where he was. The E Club was a short drive away and when they piled out, McGee held up his hands.
"He's gone."
"Nice job, Probie," Tony complained as McGee frowned.
"I thought Frost is the probie now."
"McGee," Gibbs said sharply, cutting off the argument before it could happen.
"The bartender says he turned around Sergeant Porter wasn't there anymore."
"You let him get past you?" Tony accused.
"It was before I got here, Tony."
Gibbs stepped away, looking around. "What's Sergeant Porter diving?"
When the team scrambled to pull out their notes, he was ready to raise his voice when Morgan spoke up.
"Black 2000 Ford F150."
"How did you—" Tony started to question but Gibbs had spotted the car parked just off the curb and got their attention.
"Hey, come on," he said, voice hushed as he drew his weapon.
The team moved in, drawing their own weapons and surrounding the car at his signal. Tony took driver's side with Morgan tucked behind near the back door and McGee and Ziva took the passenger. Sergeant Porter was seemingly passed out on the wheel or possibly dead and McGee called out cautiously.
"Boss, we got a weapon on the front seat."
Tony reached over and pressed his fingers to the man's neck cautiously. "I think he's dead, boss."
Then, the man sucked in a gasp and sat up, dazed.
"NCIS, don't move!"
"Get your hands on the wheel!"
"I wasn't going to drive," Porter argued as Tony opened the door to pull him out. "Come on, it's not DUI if I don't have a key in the ignition. Look!"
"What's he talking about?" Ziva questioned as she opened the passenger side to get the gun in an evidence bag.
"I think he thinks we're busting him for driving drunk," Gibbs said as Morgan waved Russell into the car to search it.
"Oh, you're not?" Porter muttered.
"No. It's for double homicide," Tony informed him, handing him over to Gibbs and McGee once he was cuffed.
"Frost!" Gibbs called out and Morgan waved Russell along, hurrying over. "Check him too."
"Yes, boss," she muttered, telling Russell to search as Porter squirmed and Gibbs jerked him.
"Hold still and if you so much as think of doing anything stupid with the dog, you can bet you'll regret it."
Russell sniffed at the man vigorously, circling before turning back to Morgan who pulled out a tug toy and jerked it around for the dog as a reward.
"Clean," she informed Gibbs as he nodded and shoved Porter into the vehicle. "The truck was as well. No gunshot residue anywhere."
"We'll have Abby confirm back at the lab."
Morgan frowned slightly as he closed the door and turned, seeing it and catching her attention.
"Hey," he said, drawing her gaze back to him. "Not that I don't trust him or don't trust your skills as his handler but other people will, got it?"
"Yes, boss."
"Good." He tossed her the keys, surprising her. "You're driving."
Morgan hesitated but nodded, sending Russell into the vehicle and heading for the driver's seat. It was a test, she knew, but it was also a show of trust. He wasn't just saying it a moment ago, he was proving he meant it, and… it made her a little uneasy. Russell wasn't there to help either. He couldn't be while she was driving and she was beginning to see now what Dr. McNeil was saying. Doesn't mean I have to like it, she mentally noted, getting behind the wheel and starting up the car.
"Whoa, probie gets to drive?" Tony called out and Morgan's gaze shifted to his, ice cold as Ziva smiled.
"I know that look. Tell me, Tony, how many fingers do you think you'll have left if you call her probie again, hm?"
Tony's lips twitch into an uneasy smile. "Right. Got it. Just, uh, try to keep us in one piece, yeah?"
"I'll think about it."
"This is going to be good," Tony hummed in the observation room on the other side of the mirror in interrogation. "Gibbs will rip this guy apart."
"I don't know if that's the right tactic in this case, Tony," Ziva pointed out as Morgan simply eyed the man, ignoring their conversation.
"What? Are you an expert on suspect interviews now?"
"Interviews, no. Interrogation techniques, yes."
"Hm. Like hooking a car battery up to a guy's privates? I'm sure it's effective, but judges tend to frown on it."
"I've learned from Gibbs that in certain cases you can attract far more bees with honey."
"Flies," Tony corrected, confusing her.
"What do flies have to do with honey?"
"It's a saying," Morgan spoke up, making Tony flinch. "You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Being sweet can get you what you want better than being foul."
Ziva nodded. "Ah. I see. Why couldn't you have just said that, Tony?"
"Well—"
The door to interrogation opened and Gibbs stepped in, making Tony smile.
"Here he comes."
Yet, Gibbs didn't do what Tony expected. He simply offered Porter a coffee, took a chair and talked to him.
"What's he doing? Where's his strong-arming? The intimidation? The psychological bullying? The Gibbs?"
"It wasn't perfect but I loved her, sir. The problem was, I don't think… I don't think she ever loved me," Porter admitted, making Morgan's frown deepen.
"I'll bet she loved that paycheck, though, right?"
"Yeah. I should have known. 'Cause look at me. She was way out of my league, you know? She just married me to get to the States."
"We've got it wrong," Morgan said then, drawing Tony and Ziva's attention.
"How do you mean?" Tony asked.
"It's an unhappy marriage but he's not the culprit," she said, pulling out her phone and using it as Tony's eyes widened, flicking between her and Gibbs.
"Now, hold on. You really don't want to—"
Gibbs's phone chimed, drawing his gaze over to the mirror as his eyes narrowed into a glare. Tony reached out cautiously, putting his hand on Morgan's shoulder with an uneasy look.
"Listen, Frost. Gibbs has this thing where you don't interrupt him when he's in interrogation unless—"
Morgan jerked her shoulder out of his grip, frowning at him. "Unless he's completely wrong."
"Gibbs isn't—" Tony tried before Morgan stormed out and he winced when the door slammed shut. "Well, I tried."
Morgan opened the door to interrogation and Gibbs stood, furious.
"Frost, I'm in the middle of—"
"We're wrong, sir," she said, cutting him off and making his temper flare.
He stormed forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her out of the room and into the hall, before pushing her firmly up against the wall and speaking low under his breath in threat.
"Listen here, Frost. When I am in interrogation, unless someone is dead or dying, you are not to interrupt me. Is that understood?"
She glared back at him defiantly, which made his jaw tighten. "Someone is dead and trying to pin the blame on the wrong person is—"
"We haven't finished yet and we can't jump to conclusions if the suspect doesn't talk. The suspect can't talk if you are interrupting—"
"He's the one being abused!" She snapped, silencing him and prying his hand off her arm. "He wasn't abusing his wife, she was abusing him."
There was a whine then and Gibbs's gaze slipped down to Russell, who was looking between them uneasily; waiting for instruction. He was lucky the dog hadn't seen him as a threat or there might have been an issue. Or she gave him a sign to hold him off before he could react. His gaze went back to Morgan as he took a step back, seeing her flexing her fists; unsettled by the confrontation as well.
"Where's the proof, Frost?" He asked, calming himself. "The murder weapon was in his truck."
"Without having been shot," she pointed out. "I trust Russell and he wouldn't have missed that. Until ballistics confirms it, I can't prove it but there was no gunpowder residue on him."
"The neighbors have confirmed hearing the fights. The hole in the wall was from him, not her. Her hands were bruised and cuffed from where she fought him off."
"You look at him and tell me he's abused her then," Morgan argued, jabbing a finger toward the door. "That is not the face of someone confident, someone power-hungry, someone who enjoys watching people get hurt. He's a mess but a drunk abuser wouldn't sit in their truck after drinking themselves stupid and not resist arrest. They would get in their car, drunk or not, and drive home to assault someone. They would fight off police trying to arrest them. Abuse can happen both ways, Gibbs, and that man is not an abuser. He is the victim."
Gibbs was silent, eyeing her, because what she was saying might not have been concrete evidence but it was making him take a step back and think. Not only think about Porter but think about her. He was missing something again. What she knew about the abuse was suspicious but now wasn't the time to talk about it.
"Okay," he said simply, seeing that his response didn't help her relax at all as she eyed him. "Okay. I'll talk to him."
She hesitated but nodded, watching him as he stepped back into interrogation to find out the truth.
"Pay up," Tony told Ziva after the interrogation was over and she shot him a look.
"He didn't confess."
"It was damn close," Tony countered.
Gibbs walked into the bullpen and moved to his desk; sparing Morgan a brief look as she leaned over to hand Russell a toy to chew on the flat dog bed beside her desk.
"Close doesn't cut it, DiNozzo," he said, saving Ziva the money.
"Well, we got enough evidence even if you didn't break him in interrogation, boss. Not to say that you couldn't have broken him if you wanted to," Tony doubled back at the look he got. "I really like that shirt."
"Tony's right," Ziva agreed as they both approached. "We have Sergeant Porter's gun with his fingerprints in his car."
"He blows away his wife and her friend in a fit of rage. Gets drunk. Passes out before he can commit suicide."
"Why did he police his brass?" Gibbs countered.
"Habit of a well-trained Marine," Ziva suggested as Morgan spoke up.
"He worked motor pool and failed to qualify twice in the pistol range last year." She gave Gibbs a glance from her desk. "GSR tests were negative."
"He could have worn gloves or gotten rid of the clothes he was wearing," Ziva tried and Gibbs shook his head.
"But he leaves his pistol in full view on the front seat."
They were pulling at straws and more and more, Gibbs was seeing how Morgan had been right and this was not their guy.
"Boss, I think I've got something here. I just spoke with the Director at Quantico Officer's Club. Apparently, Sun Porter was a regular fixture there. Almost always with Min Crane. A month ago, they were all banned," McGee said, approaching the desk as well.
"For what, McGee?"
"One of their husbands showed up. Made a scene. Had to be carried out."
"Another nail in Sergeant Porter's coffin," Tony hummed, starting to head to his desk but doubling back when McGee continued.
"It wasn't Sergeant Porter, Tony. Sergeant James Dawson. Yoon's husband."
Gibbs got up and the group started to head out before Gibbs called out. "Frost, with me."
"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Tony sang before grunting when Ziva punched him in the gut and Morgan went to join Gibbs in his car.
Initially, the ride was quiet before Gibbs took the opportunity to speak.
"You were right," he said simply, not looking her way. "He was being abused by his wife. What I want to know is, what tipped you off? And don't tell me it was a hunch."
Morgan looked over at him for a moment before looking back out the window. "I was almost dishonorably discharged from my position at Quantico for getting between a Colonel and his First Lieutenant whom he was harassing… The First Lieutenant was his partner. His male partner whom he was abusing on and off base. Not everyone wants to admit what's happening but military or not, a guy is far less likely to say anything. I tried to talk to him, get him to contact his superiors but he was adamant nothing would happen and that it would cause more trouble for him if he spoke up. I couldn't watch it any longer and when an altercation broke out, I stepped in to settle it myself."
Gibbs parked the car and eyed her as she opened the door and had Russell get out first.
"I knew what was happening with Porter because I'd seen it before. Not exactly the same but the shame it puts into people who are only trying their best to be strong is something I can recognize."
"And you?" Gibbs questioned, getting the feeling that there was a sense of camaraderie that she wasn't speaking about between her and these abuse victims.
"No, sir," she replied and he didn't bother to correct her use of "sir" this time as they climbed out of the vehicle. "My priority has always been my work. I never had the opportunity to date nor did I wish to. I never saw the point of putting someone else through my bullshit."
Gibbs understood that to an extent. Being in the military meant putting your significant other through periods where they were alone or at risk. Relationships didn't always work out and not everyone could handle the constant question of whether or not someone would make it home after a war. Morgan's understanding then, didn't come from the abuse victims but from what they represented: people trying to put on a strong face when they're feeling anything but. And from what I found in her files, it hasn't exactly been easy for her.
He let out a soft sigh before they joined the rest of the team to enter Sergeant Dawson's home.
"Heard you guys got Sergeant Porter at the 'E' Club with the murder weapon. I knew they were having troubles, but never expected something like this," the man said, setting down his basket of laundry.
"Where's your wife, Sergeant Dawson?"
"She's taking a nap with our daughter. Why? Is something wrong, sir?"
"What happened at the Officer's Club last month?" Gibbs asked, changing the subject as Tony stepped in.
"Let me refresh your memory. You had an altercation with two Marine Captains."
"Yeah, it was nothing. It was just a misunderstanding," Dawson replied, confused.
"Big enough for a Letter of Reprimand in your SRB."
"Maybe we should ask your wife about it, Sergeant," Ziva suggested.
"She's had a really rough day. I'd rather not disturb her."
"That the bedroom down the hall?"
"Yeah, it is but I'd rather not disturb her," Dawson pressed, starting to follow Ziva as she moved in that direction.
"We're just going to make sure she's still breathing," Tony said, lightly blocking the man as Morgan followed Ziva with Russell.
"What? You think I'd kill Sun and Min because they had a couple of drinks with my wife at the 'O' Club?" Dawson snapped as Ziva knocked on the door and they let him come over as well.
"Mrs. Dawson, NCIS! Can we ask you a few questions?"
"Yoon. It's me. Please. Yoon, open up," he said, seeing the door was locked as the baby cried within.
Russell shifted uneasily beside Morgan who scratched at his neck to calm him.
"Do you have a key?" Gibbs asked.
"It's locked from the inside. Yoon! Yoon!"
Finally, Dawson slammed his shoulder into the door to force it open, seeing the mess in the room and picking up the crying baby with no Yoon to be seen.
"Frost."
"On it," Morgan said as they herded Dawson out and Russell began sniffing around the room.
"It doesn't make sense, sir. Someone kills my wife's two best friends, then they decide to kidnap her?" Dawson questioned Gibbs as they moved back into the living room.
"When's the last time you saw her, Sergeant?"
"About an hour before you showed up. She was putting the baby to sleep in our room."
"You didn't hear anything?"
"No. And can we stop standing around and do something?" Dawson snapped in his unease as Gibbs led him to the sofa once he put the baby down.
"We are. Sit down."
"And what exactly is that, sir?"
"Figuring out if you're a suspect or a victim."
Ziva and Morgan came back in then, giving up what they'd found.
"The window was broken from the outside," Ziva said, glancing at Morgan as she dropped a hand on Russell's head.
"But there were no other scents to follow. Russell checked the bushes right outside the window but they all led back to here."
"What does that mean?" Dawson questioned as the door opened and Tony came in as well.
"None of the neighbors heard or saw anything unusual, boss. MPs are searching the area. They're also checking every vehicle leaving the base."
"You think she might still be on base?"
"That's possible," Gibbs offered Dawson.
"Well, then we need to be out there looking for her."
"If she's still on base we'll find her," he urged the man before looking at Morgan. "No other scents?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. If someone had broken in and taken her, he would have picked up the trail outside the window and followed it to the street where they would have probably used a car to get away. He just kept returning to the house—to that room—when I had him try to follow the trail."
"The point, Frost."
"No one came and took her, boss. I think she left on her own and made it seem like someone did."
"What?" Dawson questioned. "But the window—"
"Could have been opened and she could have broken it once outside," Morgan pointed out. "It might have been an hour since this happened but Russell would have picked up on something leaving the scene. The constant return to the house means he picked up on either you or her."
Dawson got to his feet. "You think I had something to do with this?"
"Sit down," Gibbs pressed, hearing the grumbled growl come from Russell before Morgan settled him and Dawson sank back down into the sofa. "What happened at the officer's club, Sergeant?"
"It was nothing, okay? Sun and Min go there all the time. Yoon just drops them off. This one time she went in and had a couple of drinks. She couldn't drive home so she called me."
Gibbs's phone went off and he stepped away as Tony continued the questioning.
"At which point did you get into a verbal altercation with the two Marine Captains?"
"They were drunk, okay? They were hitting on my wife. They tried to stop me from taking her home. What would you do, sir? You think one of these Captains might have had something to do with this? Look, we're wasting our time! I'm telling you, I had nothing to do with this!" He said, getting back onto his feet as Gibbs walked back in.
"I know that," Gibbs said sharply, trying to calm the man down. "Your alibi just checked out. The Sergeant was on duty at the time of the shooting."
"So, what now, sir?"
"Now, we go back and look into the connection between the three women and why your wife may have run off while you sit down and calm down to take care of your kid. Got it?"
Dawson glanced over at the crying infant solemnly. "You really think she just took off?"
"I don't know but we will find out."
"Three Korean women met and married Marines in Seoul at roughly the same time. Two of them are dead. Our prime suspect was locked up here when the third went missing. Think it's a racial thing?" Tony questioned once the team had taken a short break for the night and returned the next morning.
"No. Definitely do not think that it's a hate crime. In my experience there's only one color in the Marines," McGee quipped.
"From what I've seen of your Marine Corps it's very ethnically diverse," Ziva agreed.
"He means green, Ziva, and I think he's right," Tony replied as McGee hummed.
"Well, maybe it's a... maybe it's a Korean thing. Maybe something in their past."
"Like some kind of blood feud. Competing villages, ancient oaths, revenge from across the ocean," Tony mused as Ziva rolled her eyes.
"This is not one of your stupid action movies, Tony."
"No, it isn't. If it was you'd be dressed differently."
"And you'd be far better looking."
McGee laughed as Tony shot him a glare.
"You'd be dead by the opening credits."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I am the plucky comic relief?" McGee offered as a tired-looking Morgan stepped in, cracking open an energy drink. "Rough night?"
"Every night is rough," she grumbled, drinking from the can as Gibbs walked in.
"You find out what the hell happened to Yoon Dawson yet?" He glanced at McGee. "Plucky?"
"Uh, well, we were…"
"We're just working on that, boss," Tony spoke up as Ziva nodded.
"We're going through a list of anyone suspicious who had access to the base in the last two days. So far no solid leads. Though, if Morgan is right and she left herself, then no leads is expected."
"What about the Marine Captain Sergeant Dawson fought with?"
"Both transferred out of Quantico last month. One is at Camp Pendleton, the other is in Okinawa."
"The two dead women lived insular lives. They spent most of their time together or with other Koreans. Yoon Dawson seems to be the only one who embraced American life," Ziva tacked on as Morgan spoke up.
"Tried looking into their past for all three women and am coming up with nothing. Relatives, past addresses, schools, all blank."
Gibbs's eyes narrowed. "We need more information. There can't be nothing on them."
"Unless it was on purpose," Morgan pointed out. "Have we looked into the chance that they might be foreign intelligence? It would explain her falsifying her kidnapping and if the others were in on it, it could be the missing connection between them. Maybe their cover was blown."
"Get a hold of the FBI and see if they have anything on this," Gibbs offered. "Ask for Fornell. Tell him Gibbs sent you."
She nodded and picked up the phone as McGee went over to Gibbs's desk.
"Actually, boss, Abby and I—we have been working on something. We gathered the women's phone records, credit card receipts, address books. Abby is cross-referencing to see if there's a pattern."
"DiNozzo, I want to know about anybody in the area who has made threats against Koreans, foreign Marine wives, or women," Gibbs ordered as he got up again and made for the elevator.
"Oh, is that all?" Tony said before Gibbs kicked his desk. "On it, boss."
"Find out their lives before they married marines," he told Ziva before calling out to McGee. "Come on, you're with me, Elf Lord."
The team had gotten lucky and Abby had been able to determine that Yoon's cell phone was still being used to call a payphone outside of Lee's Market. The team drove out, tapped the payphone for the next incoming call, and settled in to wait. Gibbs, McGee, and Morgan were in the car while Tony and Ziva were standing nearby, blending in as they waited for their suspect.
"Damn, I can't believe this," Tony complained, though Ziva was actually looking around and not at the magazine he was holding.
"I don't really like waiting here either, Tony."
"No, Nick and Jessica broke up. I'm always the last to know."
"Hey, DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped over the radio. "Shut up."
"Shutting up, boss."
Then, the phone began to ring.
"Hey, Probie, are you getting this?"
"Yeah, got it, Tony," McGee said, handing the video camera over to Gibbs as he started tracing the call. "It's Yoon Dawson's cell phone again, boss."
"I want a location, McGee."
"Whoever it is, they disabled the onboard GPS chip. So we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. Just take a moment to get a bead on the cell phone grid it's interfacing with."
"We've got someone headed to the phone, boss," Tony said, drawing their gazes to Lee as he answered it. "You want us to take him down now?"
"Negative."
"He's just saying hello," Morgan said, hearing what she could from the headphones on McGee's neck. "Asking if someone's there, if they can hear him."
"You speak Korean?" Gibbs questioned.
"Grew up just outside of Korea Town," Morgan admitted. "I picked things up."
"Okay, I've got the cell phone grid located. It's coming from this neighborhood. Somewhere on this street," McGee said then.
"You copy that, DiNozzo?"
"Well, we're scanning for targets now. There are a lot of possibles," Tony replied.
McGee pulled his headphones back on again as someone finally spoke on the other end of the line. The same moment that Ziva found someone.
"Wool cap, head down, heading towards the pay phone."
"Got him."
McGee lowered the headphones again as Morgan frowned.
"He's asking who it is and… she said turn around."
The suspect drew her weapon and fired a shot at the payphone as Lee ducked away to safety and Ziva shouted.
"Drop your weapon!"
"Federal agents! Move!" Tony said as well as she bolted. "It's Yoon Dawson, boss. She's rabbiting."
"We're cutting her off DiNozzo," Gibbs said, sending the car speeding toward the other end of the alleyway they ducked into.
He pulled the car to a stop inside a small gated parking area and Morgan ushered Russell out, sending him off to search as the others eyed the area as well.
"I know she didn't pass us," McGee declared.
"Where well the hell did she go? It's like she disappeared," Tony complained before Russell barked repeatedly and Morgan went over to see what he'd found.
"She didn't disappear," she commented, lifting up the baseball cap that had been on Yoon's head and gesturing to the fire escape that Russell was barking at. "She climbed."
"Can he follow the trail?" Gibbs asked.
"We can try. Rooftops make it harder to keep the scent with the gaps between buildings," Morgan said and Gibbs nodded to the ladder.
"Get to it."
"Yes, sir," she replied, kneeling down. "Russell, up."
Russell perked up and bounded over, perching himself on her shoulder as she then climbed up onto a dumpster nearby.
"Launch," she ordered and the dog used her shoulder as a brace to throw himself up toward the edge of the roof.
His back feet caught purchase on some piping and he pulled himself up with her jumping up to grab the ladder and follow. Tony let out a whistle at the sight.
"Impressive."
"They've been working together for years, DiNozzo," Gibbs pointed out, nodding to the team. "Spread out, keep comms open. Any sign of direction, Frost—"
"I'll let you know," she replied over the radio as she followed Russell across the roof.
The night didn't reveal much else after that. Russell had lost track of the scent over the various roofs and the only confirmation they had was that Lee had mentioned Yoon as possibly being a spy from North Korea; supporting Morgan's thoughts of the trio of women being foreign intelligence. From there, Gibbs left FBI agents to watch Lee—who had refused protection should Yoon try again—and the team went home for the night.
"Like my father always said, be careful who you marry, Anthony. She may end up being a homicidal maniac," Tony chimed once he, Ziva, and McGee came off the elevator the next morning.
"Your father actually said that to you?"
"No, but I'm pretty sure he thought it."
"Probably knew your taste in women," Ziva quipped, going to her desk as Tony stepped over to Gibbs.
"Abby's got active taps on Sergeant Dawson's cell, home, and work phones, boss. If she calls her husband again we'll know it."
"She won't," Ziva chimed.
"No Agent Frost today?" Tony questioned, noticing the empty desk between her and Gibbs and the lack of her imposing dog.
"Busy," Gibbs said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder where they could see Morgan with a frown on her face speaking to someone.
"Is that… Dr. McNeil?"
"Who?" Ziva questioned.
"NCIS psychiatrist. Tried asking her out a few months ago. Didn't work out. Not really my type."
"As in, she wasn't biting."
"A bit. What's Frost talking to her for? She seems like the last person to go talk to a shrink."
"Tony," Gibbs said sternly, glaring at him as he nodded.
"Right. Shutting up."
McGee awkwardly shuffled before speaking up. "Um, the FBI team shadowing Mister Sung is tied directly into MTAC. They're last report had him loading up a catering truck for a job. No sign of Yoon Dawson yet."
"It's highly doubtful she'll make another attempt on his life," Ziva replied as Tony cleared his throat to offer information as well.
"We've got four agents providing surveillance on Dawson's house."
"She definitely won't be returning home," Ziva interjected and Tony frowned at her.
"And how do you know this, Officer David?"
"Because Yoon Dawson wouldn't," Gibbs said, knowing that in this case, Ziva had the most experience and knowledge on what was going on. "Now tell us what you would do."
"If I was Yoon, everything I've done up to this point was to protect my cover. I've dealt with the two possible threats on base, and—"
"If by dealt you mean gunning down two defenseless housewives?" Tony said shortly as Ziva stared at him coldly before continuing.
"And I attempted to deal with the third, but my cover was blown. I'm now only left with a few possibilities."
"You rush back to your country?" Gibbs offered and she nodded.
"Or carry out whatever mission I was assigned before I'm captured or killed."
"But she's been in the States for three years. If you had a mission, wouldn't you have carried it out by now?" McGee asked as Morgan headed over, overhearing.
"Not sleeper agents. They could be sitting around for decades before being sent out."
"So tell us, Jane Bond, how do we track you down, huh?" Tony quipped.
"You don't, Tony. By now I've changed my appearance, I've replaced my identity with back-up documents and I've relocated."
"Promise? Okay, so that about wraps it up. Who's up for lunch? You might want to think about this, boss, because I'm going to pay."
"No one's eating until we find Yoon Dawson," Gibbs said, smacking him upside the back of the head.
"Gibbs, not that Tony couldn't stand to lose a little weight, but we'll all starve to death before that happened. She's playing it like I would. She's gone," Ziva pressed.
"But," Morgan piped up, opening another energy drink and gesturing to the screen where Yoon's ID was displayed. "She's got a kid."
"Most likely part of her cover or an occupational accident," Ziva countered but Gibbs wasn't convinced either.
"It's more than that."
"How can you tell?"
"My gut. Come on. You're with me."
The team hit another break in the case while there. Yoon did in fact call Dawson again and they were able to pinpoint her location, which led them back to the Pacific Rim Society catering job that Lee had them scheduled to do. Tony, McGee, and Morgan were first to arrive on scene with Gibbs and Ziva well on their way. What they found wasn't looking good.
"I found out why the FBI isn't responding, boss. She's definitely here," Tony informed Gibbs on the phone; standing beside the car where McGee was checking on the two unconscious FBI agents. "You want Frost to send in the dog?"
"Does he have a scent?" Gibbs asked as Tony repeated the question and Morgan nodded.
"Yes."
"Send him in and hold until I get there."
"Got it," Tony said, hanging up and nodding to her. "You've got the green card, Frost. Locate and hold for backup."
Morgan nodded and turned to Russell. "Search."
He shuffled around the FBI agent's car before taking off and Morgan was right on his heels. She flashed her badge at anyone who tried to interfere, gun already drawn as she pushed past those in the restaurant into the back rooms. Russell let out a bark and she shushed him as they went deeper in; hearing the others of the team coming in now behind her, before Russell skidded to a halt in front of the door and lay beside it. She gave him a pat on the head and told him to heel; tucking him between her legs as she waited for the others. Any other day and she might have burst in herself but the team was right behind her and there was something not right about this mess.
Gibbs caught up first with Ziva right behind him and with everyone armed and ready, Gibbs shoved the door open.
"Drop the weapon."
Yoon didn't move though, gun trained on the bleeding Lee tied to a chair as Ziva and Morgan shifted further into the room. "There's a bomb set to go off in this building. If you kill me now, we all die."
"Put your weapon down," Gibbs ordered again.
"I was a North Korean operative."
"We kind of figured that part out on our own."
"The part that you don't know is that my cell included Sun Porter, Min Crane, and this man."
"She's lying!" Lee argued.
"I swear on the life of my daughter that I'm trying to prevent this attack."
"And I swear if you don't release your weapon, I will kill you," Ziva replied coldly and Yoon slowly turned her gun and dropped it to the ground.
"The bomb is in his truck. Please. We may only have minutes left."
The group hurried out where the truck was and McGee was sent to tend to Lee's bleeding leg while Gibbs opened the truck, giving a glance at Russell who was whining in unease.
"He a bomb dog too?" Gibbs asked as he pulled up the doors and Morgan nodded.
"Bombs, drugs, tracking," Morgan rattled off as Gibbs pulled the cover off a large crate of C4 packed with wiring.
"Now you believe me?" Yoon questioned, cuffed beside her as Ziva eyed the bomb.
"Can you disarm it?"
"If I had a couple of days, maybe. You? Frost?"
"I could try. I suggest not standing within five miles of here while I attempt it," Ziva said as Morgan took a look and shook her head.
"Hours, maybe and I'm not confident in that."
"I can," Yoon offered as Lee spat from across the way.
"She put it there. She's trying to kill us all."
"And you didn't notice it was in your truck?" Morgan snapped back. "Shut the hell up."
Tony bounded over then, having come back from dealing with those inside. "They're evacuating the building, boss. And the, uh… ah, it's a really big bomb."
"You think, DiNozzo?"
"I didn't kill them to maintain my cover, Agent Gibbs," Yoon explained. "I did it to keep my family. I failed."
"She's a North Korean spy!" Lee argued.
"Not anymore. At least let me prevent this."
Gibbs took a second before taking a breath. "McGee, get Sung out of here. Get the cuffs off her."
"Gibbs!" Ziva started to argue but Morgan was already unlocking the cuffs on Yoon.
"It's not a debate, Officer David. Go. Go on. Get out of here! All of you. Give me a clear distance away. I'll handle it from here."
"I don't care how hard you whack me, boss. I'm not going anywhere," Tony declared as Ziva agreed.
"Nor am I."
Gibbs glanced over at them and then Morgan who said nothing but didn't retreat. "If we survive this, you're all fired."
He handed Yoon a knife and she went to work, taking her time and after cutting through three wires the bomb went silent.
"It's done. The bomb is no longer armed," Yoon said, handing Gibbs back the knife that he pocketed.
"And the bomb squad is on its way," Morgan piped in, waving her phone. "I called them as soon as we left the room."
Gibbs rolled his eyes before gesturing toward the parking lot. "Come on. We're not finished yet."
Dawson's reunion with his wife was bittersweet but still a welcome relief for him and the team. Once the FBI escorted them out of the bullpen, Gibbs took a breath and faced those who'd stayed with him while the bomb was being disarmed.
"Tony, Ziva, Frost. What happened back there with the bomb, I want you to know—"
"You don't have to say it, boss. We know how you feel about us," Tony offered as Ziva nodded.
"Gibbs, we're a team. That's what we do."
They glanced over at Morgan as she lightly tugged at a toy Russell was holding but she simply spared them a glance before shrugging.
"Really? Nothing?" Tony complained. "Maybe the sensitivity training was for you, then."
Gibbs cracked a small smile. "I was going to say if any of you wingnuts ever disobey a direct order again, I'll kill you myself."
"That's our boss."