Morgan shifted in her sleep, brows furrowed and frowning lightly. Shouts echoed in her ears, screams, and the echoes of bombs going off, guns firing. There was a soft whine and Russell padded over, head turning toward the phone on her nightstand that had been ringing and buzzing while she'd been sleeping. A bottle of sleeping medication was sitting beside it and Russell edged over, grabbing the phone carefully in his mouth before hopping up on the bed. He deposited it on Morgan's chest, waiting, but she didn't rise and he whined again before lying across her body; licking at her face.
Her breath hitched and her body twisted slightly, threatening to knock Russell off but he stayed where he was and became more eager to wake her. Finally, her eyes snapped open, still glazed over from sleep and when she'd tried to push herself up in her panic Russell kept her pressed firmly to the mattress. She was breathing hard, still locked in the recesses of her nightmares until the fog in her mind began to clear and she realized the lumbering black shape holding her down wasn't a terrorist but a fussing Russell.
She relaxed, dropping back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, running her hand through her hair as her other hand reached up to pet Russell.
"Good boy," she murmured, voice a bit slurred as she noticed her phone on her chest.
She frowned lightly in confusion and picked it up to check the time—nowhere near the amount of time she should have been sleeping with the new medication—but at the sign of multiple voicemails and texts, she bit out a curse.
"Shit."
She scrambled to get Russell off and rushed to pull on some pants and a shirt. She needed a shower as well but there was no time. She was already late and it didn't take a genius to know that Gibbs hated people who were late. Jeans on, keys in hand, and her tingling fingers still struggling to pull buttons through holes on her white shirt, she bolted out the door to her car with Russell on her heels. She turned to the dog, expecting him to have his working harness in his mouth but apparently, he too was having an off day. Instead of his harness, he happily carried a tug toy and Morgan knew she couldn't go back into her apartment and get the harness instead.
Shaking her head, she ushered him into the car and took off toward the NCIS building. She idly noted she probably shouldn't be driving; her head still felt heavy but she was driving safely and needed to get to work quickly. Of course, the moment she parked and started for the elevator she nearly plowed Ducky over.
"Oh, Agent Frost! I'm a bit surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be with Gibbs."
She brought a hand to her head, trying to settle the slight bit of swaying it did when she'd rushed from her car as she answered him. "I'm late. I'm on new sleeping medication and it's stronger than I expected."
"Well, you're in luck. He just called us in. Come on. We'll give you a ride, though you will have to sit in the back," Ducky hummed and she nodded.
"That's fine. Thank you."
"Of course. Wouldn't be the first time someone's shown up late and new medication, was it? Yes, that certainly can be troublesome to work out. Let's go, Mister Palmer. I'm sure Gibbs is eager to see us."
Morgan climbed into the back of the van and settled in for the ride, closing her eyes and settling into sleep as Russell curled around her legs. She jolted a bit when Palmer climbed in the back to wake her and he offered an apologetic smile.
"Sorry. Just wanted to let you know we're here and, um, I kind of need that."
He gestured to the medical bag tucked behind her and she nodded with her own muttered apology as she got up and climbed out of the van. Russell jumped down after her and they'd taken maybe a step before Gibbs stormed over to shove a suspect into a van. Morgan stepped up beside McGee who blinked in surprise.
"Frost, where've you been? We tried calling."
Morgan grunted, running a hand through her hair. "I'm on new sleeping medication. Won't happen again."
"You'll bet it won't," Gibbs said, heading over and smacking her upside the back of her head, making her wince and frown but not react to the hit.
It was the first time she'd been given one of his scolding hits and it was well-deserved. Gibbs gave her a once-over in the process, seeing the exhaustion still clinging to her and the dark shadows under her eyes. She couldn't help the medication switch screwing things up but the fact that she was having this much trouble since she started at NCIS told him there was something going on. He reached out and pointed at her sternum, gaze serious.
"Get whatever this is under control, Frost. I'm not risking my team because you can't figure yourself out, understand?"
Her jaw went tight at the scolding but she nodded. "Yes, boss."
"Good. Now, go help DiNozzo search the car."
Morgan nodded and stepped away, not eager to meet up with Tony who would undoubtedly make some sort of snide comment. She wasn't disappointed either.
"Well, look who it is. Where've you been, Frost?"
"Considering the consequences of locking you in a room with every woman you've ever dated and seeing who comes out alive," she replied shortly.
The one thing she didn't mind about his comments though, was how easily she could make him uneasy. It never took much.
"Bit harsh," Tony muttered as they headed over to where Ziva was standing, staring quietly at the severed head in an ice box in the trunk of a car. "First severed head?"
She continued to stare at it as he stepped around and crouched down as Morgan too moved around to look; Russell leaning into her side for her to pet the top of his head.
"Mine was a motorcycle accident in Baltimore. I thought I was just picking up a helmet," Tony offered and Ziva spared him a small glance.
"Trust me, it's far worse when you know the person."
"You knew someone who was beheaded?"
"A friend," she admitted, struggling a little bit. "A friend. He infiltrated a Hamas cell in Ramallah. Uh... they sent his head overnight express."
"I'm sorry. I didn't…"
"That's when I decided that I'd… I'd never be captured alive." Her gaze drifted to Morgan and she was mildly surprised to see a similar dark look in her eyes.
She didn't know the woman's background but liked her. She didn't put up with Tony's jokes and may have been a bit quiet but she felt… solid. Sort of like Gibbs. Someone unyielding if a bit blunt and rough around the edges. Everyone had their stories and Ziva knew better than most not to pry, but she hadn't expected someone new coming onto the team to have the same sort of shadows weighing them down as she did.
"It's the same for you, isn't it?" She asked, drawing Morgan's gaze for a moment before the woman started to walk away.
"I didn't get a choice," she said over her shoulder and Ziva went to respond only to wince, muttering a curse under her breath.
"What's that mean?" Tony questioned, not really understanding what just happened as Ziva attempted to explain.
"It means I should be more careful of what I bring up. Come on," she muttered, starting to head back to the van so they could pack up as Tony frowned lightly.
"Yeah, but that doesn't really explain—"
"Drop it, Tony."
"Dropping it."
"Who is Naomi Krutzhammer?" Ziva asked, leaning closely over Tony's shoulder as he eyed her. "One of your girlfriends, yes?"
"I'm trying to read my email here. You mind?"
"Not at all. I didn't know your nickname was honeybuns."
"Only Naomi and I call him that," Gibbs quipped, spotting an empty desk where Russell idly napped. "Where's Frost?"
"Meeting with the psychiatrist about her medication, boss," McGee informed him. "She said it would only take a minute."
He grunted and settled behind his desk "Who owns the car with the head in the trunk?"
"We don't know yet," Tony replied, earning a look.
"You're reading your email and you don't know yet?"
"We traced the VIN to a Mercedes dealership in Riverdale, which sold it two weeks ago. The registration's temporary and hasn't been processed by the DMV," Tony explained.
"We called the dealership," Ziva added. "They don't open for another twenty-five minutes."
Then, McGee stood up, swiping a paper out of the fax machine and heading over. "The car's registered to an Epsilon Corporation."
"Thanks for sharing, Probie," Tony complained.
"I just found it. Had to hack into the DMV's processing computer."
"Is that legal?"
"I doubt it," Ziva hummed.
"I wonder what the penalty is."
"Less than reading your emails on my time, honeybuns," Gibbs replied to Tony's prodding, making him give himself a smack on the back of the head.
"Corporate address is in care of Sean Oliver, Attorney at Law. 225 Sheraton Street," McGee added as Ziva spoke up.
"Phone number, McGee."
Gibbs stopped him from giving her that though, glancing briefly at Morgan as she headed back over to the bullpen. "When they answer the phone, what are you going to say, Officer David? Hey, we found your car. Anybody at Epsilon missing a head?" He snatched the paper from McGee. "Tony, take Ziva with you. Go. That's a good job, McGee."
"Thank you, boss."
"Tony's right. Hacking is illegal," he informed him, lightly warning him to not do it again. "Now, go get the suspects ready for interrogation. Save the carjacker for last."
"Yes, boss."
"Frost," he called out then, waving her over and she approached his desk. "Did you get the meds worked out?"
Her lips settled into a small frown but nodded. "Yes. I have a lighter dosage for days I might be called in."
He put down the papers he was looking at and glanced up at her. "Were you on medication in the army?"
She hesitated but slowly nodded. "Yes, though the sleeping medication was only added once I was transferred to Quantico. I… I was on a constant schedule so being on call wasn't an issue. As I said, it won't—"
"You will take your meds as they're prescribed to you," he cut her off, knowing that she would most definitely stop taking them if it meant even the slightest chance of this happening again. "I will inform you ahead of time if I believe that you will need to be contacted after hours and you will not be contacted at all on your days off."
"But sir—"
"Don't call me sir," he reminded her, turning his attention back to the files as he began to pack them up to head for interrogation. "If anything happens on those days off, I will contact you in the morning to have you come in." He stepped around his desk and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing good, Frost. Don't let it go down the drain by being stubborn."
He felt her relax under his hand and gave her a pat on the shoulder as he started to head off.
"Go check with Abby and Ducky. See if they have any leads on whose head it is."
"Yes, boss."
Morgan stepped out of the elevator into the lab where Abby and Ducky were having a discussion while a nearby computer chimed continuously.
"Yes, but are you absolutely positive?" Ducky questioned as Abby smiled.
"Science doesn't lie, Ducky."
"No, but in my experience it often can be misleading."
"Technology lies," Morgan piped up, drawing their gazes to her. "Occasionally."
"Morgan! It's okay if I call you Morgan, right?" Abby asked, not really waiting for an answer as her gaze drifted down and she pouted. "No Russell today?"
"He's upstairs sleeping," Morgan replied. "Gibbs said you might have something?"
"Yes! Okay, so we have two questions for you." She paused then. "Where's my Caf-Pow?"
Morgan opened her mouth, brows furrowed but Abby cut her off.
"Gibbs didn't give you a Caf-Pow?"
"N-No. He just sent me down here to see what you have." Morgan pointed back at the elevator. "I have energy drinks upstairs."
"No, no. It's fine. I'll get mad at him for not having you bring me one. It's not your fault."
Ducky cleared his throat, giving her a pointed look and she nodded.
"Right! So, according to the Armed Forces DNA registry, the head in the autopsy room belongs to Navy Captain Parker Wayne. Now, most people would ask how he died and why but—"
"Actually," Morgan interrupted, drawing their curious gazes to her. "Unless his cause of death is somehow linked to why he was in the trunk of a car and decapitated, I don't really think it's that important."
Abby's mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh, my god. How did you know that's what we were going to ask?"
"Well, perhaps there is more to Agent Frost than meets the eye," Ducky hummed, pleasantly surprised as well.
Abby bounded over and took Morgan's hand. "We have to get to know each other. We should go out for drinks sometime! You can bring Russell. I know a great bar in town and we can bring Ziva too. Girl's night out!"
"Um—"
"You stealing one of my agents, Abs?"
Morgan stiffened as Gibbs stepped out of the elevator, lightly tugging her hand free from Abby's as the woman went up to him and pointed sternly at his chest.
"You forgot my Caf-Pow."
"The machine was empty."
"The machine's never empty," she argued before he nodded toward the elevator.
"Upstairs, Frost."
"Yes, boss," Morgan muttered, heading for the elevator with Gibbs on her tail as Abby called out.
"I'll pick out a date, Morgan!"
Morgan gave her a hesitant look as the elevator doors closed and Gibbs spoke up.
"Girl's night?"
Morgan brought a hand up to run through her hair. "She didn't exactly give me a say."
He chuckled. "That's Abby. Try it out. Who knows? Maybe you'll have fun," he commented as they went to join the others in the bullpen to update one another on what they found and dig a little more.
"There's no connection between Captain Wayne and the three suspects," Morgan informed Gibbs as Ziva continued.
"No common service, ship or base. If they had any contact, it wasn't through the Navy."
"You're asking me to believe a sailor jacked a car with a head in the trunk and he didn't know it?" Gibbs questioned.
"If the glue sticks."
"Shoe fits," McGee corrected.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs called and Tony got up.
"I'm with you, boss. Our carjacker definitely knows more than he's telling us. We don't believe in coincidences around here, Ziva."
"However, we do believe in bad luck," Gibbs said, giving McGee a look. "You get the search warrant?"
"Uh, Faith Coleman says that we need to petition for a preliminary injunction to compel Sean Oliver, Esquire, to give up the name of her client."
"So, do it."
"Done it. I mean I-I did it. Since the Captain died of natural causes, it's going to take the judge a while to sign off on it."
"The lawyer drooled over Tony. Why doesn't he just sleep with her?" Ziva asked, earning a look from Tony and McGee. "What? It's a viable interrogation technique."
"I've done it," Gibbs hummed, getting up.
"Me too."
Tony's gaze caught Morgan's and he groaned. "Let me guess, you three?"
"Almost," she offered with a shrug. "He was poisoned before we got anywhere."
"By you?"
Morgan snorted, surprising the team as she shook her head. "I wish."
"Oh, I need to hear about this," Tony pressed. "How'd you do it? I mean, you're a bit… Well, you're not my type anyway but I'm sure—"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said shortly. "Get to work on your lawyer friend."
"Yes, boss," he said with a wince as Gibbs headed for the elevator and Morgan typed away on her computer.
"I played the part, Tony," she said, giving him a look. "He was into Doms."
His mouth dropped open as Ziva snickered and Morgan cracked a small smirk, saying nothing more.
Ziva slammed her hands on her desk angrily, drawing the gazes of those in the bullpen. "I've hit a dead wall," she said, jumping slightly when something touched her leg but it was Russell.
He'd headed over and dropped his head in her lap; stumpy tail wagging as he leaned into her. She glanced at Morgan but the woman ignored them, knowing but not interfering, so Ziva pet him and looked at the others.
"Have any of you heard of the Nation of Nevis?"
"No," McGee said but Tony knew.
"It's in the Caribbean."
"I'm impressed," she said, getting up and letting Russell head back to Morgan.
"Well, if you're looking for the most attractive and convenient offshore corporate domicile, like my father, it's the place."
"That's where Epsilon's incorporated. It's a haven of confidentiality. I mean, they won't disclose the names of owners, officers, or directors."
"That's why the old man seems to like it."
"It sounds suspicious," McGee agreed as Ziva nodded.
"I have a contact who can get me that info."
"Ziva," Gibbs called, walking into the bullpen. "Don't talk about it. Do it."
"Well, it's a delicate situation, Gibbs. Perhaps I should elaborate a—"
He shot her a look and she turned around, moving back to her desk before McGee and Tony spoke up.
"Martin Broussard. Raised in New Orleans—"
"Orleans, boss. Barely graduated high school. Dropped out of—"
"Junior college after only one year," McGee finished, frowning at Tony who'd been cutting him off.
"Record?"
The two stood and approached as Morgan eyed them both.
"Ah, two DUIs and a—"
"Shoplifting charge."
"We got prints from his room. Abby is—"
"Trying to match them from the Mercedes from the chop shop."
"You think Broussard could be Sean Oliver's client?" Ziva questioned in disbelief.
"No way. This guy's apartment makes McGee's look like The Four Seasons."
"Whoa, what is wrong with my home?" McGee argued with Tony.
"Nothing that a bulldozer and a few coats of paint wouldn't fix."
"At least I wasn't afraid to open a cooler."
"I wasn't afraid to open a cooler—"
Gibbs went over and smacked them both upside the head.
"I'm shutting up, boss."
"Frost," Gibbs called out then, drawing her attention as the other two went back to their desks. "With me."
They stepped out of the bullpen together—Russell plodding along beside them—and Morgan lightly frowned as they went toward the stairs. She wasn't sure where they were going since he usually took the elevator to get to the labs and autopsy but she didn't question it until they were outside the building.
"Where are we going?"
"Down the street," he said, nodding to the small store nearby. "Abby needs her Caf-Pow."
Understanding dawned on her but she was still confused. "Why bring me?"
"So you know where it is the next time I need answers. Not my job to hold your hand, Frost."
"You could have just told me where it was," she countered, getting a look from him before she glanced away. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said sternly. "Rule number six."
"Rule?"
"I have a lot of them. Listen to them, don't ask questions," he replied, walking into the store and grabbing the cup he needed to get the drink from the machine. "How's the medication going?"
"Fine," she muttered, uneasy every time he requested to go out with her somewhere seemingly meaningless and then pried into something she didn't like talking about.
"You've loosened your leash," he noted, glancing at Russell.
"I don't… You mean letting him wander more. Yeah, my psychiatrist—" She cut herself short and he stepped up to pay for the drink.
They walked out without her saying anything more, so he did.
"I don't care that you see someone, Frost. Some people need it and I'm not about to stop you from seeing them or question why." They got into the elevator and he glanced at her, seeing her unease far more easily now that she'd started to relax more with the team. "As long as you're still doing your job, I could care less how you manage your personal life."
She nodded, reaching up to run her hand through her hair—a habit of hers when she was trying to brush off the conversation, he knew—and he took a step forward as the elevator opened.
"Just checking in, Frost. Don't take it too seriously."
"Yes, boss."
They left the elevator and stepped into the lab where Abby was doing a handstand, drawing a confused gaze from Morgan as Russell plodded over and sniffed at her face, making her chuckle.
"Stop it! That tickles!"
"Russell," Morgan called, summoning the dog back to her as Abby spotted Gibbs with her drink.
"Hey, they refilled the machine!"
"What are you doing?" Gibbs questioned.
"It's been a long day. Yoga. Sirshasana. It increases the blood flow to the brain."
He leaned over and waved the drink in front of her face. "I thought that's what this is for."
"Ooh, that helps too," she said, getting out of her handstand.
"I assume you're done?" Gibbs questioned, following her through the lab as she handed him the paperwork.
"With the ashes? Yeah. Since cremation destroys all DNA, then genetic fingerprinting of the cremains won't work. So I put them through a particle accelerator to try to ferret out any trace elements."
"And?"
"And I found calcium which is present in human bones, but no phosphorous."
"Which means?"
"There's really no foreplay with you, is there, Gibbs?" Abby teased.
"What? Have you been talking to my ex-wives again?"
Morgan spoke up though. "Phosphorous would be found if there were human or animal remains in the ashes. No phosphorus means no bones."
"She gets it. The urn contained burnt wood chips, concrete, dust, and pebbles. The ashes are bogus."
"So, now we have only the head of a naval officer and the rest of him is missing," Gibbs concluded, heading back to the elevator.
Morgan started to follow but Abby grabbed her elbow to stop her.
"Oh, hey. I'm still coordinating with Ziva for the girl's night but we're looking at this weekend if the case is done. Does that work for you?"
"Um—"
"Frost!" Gibbs called and Morgan winced, hesitating before giving in.
"Yes. Yes, I-I guess I could have… drinks."
"Great!" Abby cheered, stepping up and hugging her. "You're gonna love it. I promise."
"Ask yourself what kind of guy lives in a coffin storage shed at a funeral home?" Tony questioned, bringing up the ID of the prime suspect and photos of said storage room.
"Perhaps a poor one?" Ziva suggested, getting up from her seat and heading over as he flicked through the images.
"I'd buy that except for the fact that it looks like this guy did an episode of 'Trading Spaces' with Satan. What we need to figure out is why this guy decided to keep the man's head."
"And how it ended up in the trunk of the stolen Mercedes," McGee added as Morgan eyed the photos quietly.
"Maybe he needed it for some sort of ritual," Ziva offered.
"Or sacrifice," Tony said with a shiver.
"Or both," Morgan replied, drawing their attention. "There's plenty of cultures around the world who do ritualistic sacrifices of birds and other animals for various reasons. Maybe he's a fanatic of one of those cultures."
"Witchcraft?" McGee questioned as Tony shrugged.
"Whatever you want to call it, Probie."
"Witchcraft doesn't cover all cultures, Tony," Morgan argued lightly. "Should expand your worldview a bit before you insult someone you shouldn't. You never know, they might curse you."
He winced as she pushed off the desk she'd been leaning on and went back to her own; petting Russell on the head when he glanced up away from the toy he'd been chewing.
"Point is, anyone so obviously fascinated with death has to be deeply disturbed on some level," Ziva said, not seeing Abby starting to head into the bullpen. "I mean, take these masks, for instance. What kind of a person would collect such horrid-looking things?"
"Me," Abby replied, making Ziva whip around as she fumbled to compliment the woman for her mistake.
"Of course, by horrid I mean, finely crafted and artistic. Good morning, Abby."
"Hi. The masks are Ogu," Abby explained. "They're used in tribal ceremonies in Africa. A friend of mine makes them."
"I see, and this?" Ziva asked, flipping to another image.
"Drapeau, or flag. It symbolizes the bridge between your spiritual and your earthly planes. I'm not an expert, but I would say that Martin Broussard is into voodoo big time."
"Not witchcraft," Morgan piped up as McGee started to open his mouth before changing what he was going to say.
"What's the difference?"
"Haven't you ever seen Voodoo Island with Boris Karloff? The Believers? Martin Sheen? Serpent and the Rainbow? Sleepless in Seattle," Tony asked, rattling off movies.
"That was about voodoo?" Ziva questioned.
"No, but the first time I saw It, it scared the bejeesus out of me."
"Is that a fact, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he headed for his desk.
"Yes, sir. We think we just had a major breakthrough in the case."
"You found Broussard?"
Tony hesitated. "No, not exactly."
"You got the warrant to search the law offices?" Gibbs asked McGee who also shifted uneasily.
"Not yet."
"Your contacts found out who owns Epsilon Corporation?" He asked Ziva then.
"They haven't gotten back to me yet."
Gibbs glanced at Morgan but she was working at her desk so he didn't bother to question her. She'd been smart and hadn't claimed any major achievement, instead continuing to work until she did.
"In retrospect, 'major' may have been overstating things, sir. I'm sorry," Tony apologized as Gibbs turned his sights onto Abby and her raised hand.
"What, Abby? You have to go to the bathroom or do you have something to say?"
"I do. But that's not the point. Ducky and I might have found something that's min-jor. It's maybe not major, but it's more than minor."
Gibbs nodded and got up, making a split-second decision. "Frost, let's go."
Morgan hesitated but nodded and stood to follow him and Abby. Once in the elevator, Abby turned to Morgan with a grin.
"I didn't know you knew about things like witchcraft and voodoo."
Morgan rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I… took some online college courses for if the military thing didn't work out and… spent some time in New Orleans for a mission."
"That is so cool! You have got to tell us more this weekend."
She hummed noncommittally as they moved into the lab where Ducky was waiting.
"Jethro and Miss Frost, has Abby said what we're dealing with yet?"
"Not yet, Ducky," Abby replied, moving over to a computer as the screen nearby lit up with images of Broussard's collection of things from his room.
"Yes, well, we believe that Mr. Broussard has been dabbling in some dark rituals of some sort," Ducky explained.
"Hey, Duck, are you saying Captain Wayne was used in some kind of sacrifice?" Gibbs questioned.
"I'm just saying it's a possibility, Jethro."
"We found traces of blood on three of the knives from Martin Broussard's room," Abby explained.
"All three came back the same type."
"Captain Wayne's?" Morgan asked.
"Nope. Chicken."
She nodded, not surprised as Ducky continued.
"Well, it's not an uncommon substance to find at a voodoo ritual."
"Yeah, or at a KFC. What else?"
"Patience, Gibbs. I ran the fingerprints from the Mercedes, the cooler in the back of the car, and Martin Broussard's room. They're all the same and they're all his."
"So Broussard stole the Mercedes or had free access to it," Morgan concluded.
"Either that or he just really likes to touch stuff."
"Thanks, Abbs," Gibbs grunted, heading back for the elevator with Morgan on his heels. "You don't think he stole the Mercedes?"
Morgan glanced at him as the elevator doors closed. "If he stole it, someone else's prints would be on the car."
"Good point. You think Epsilon is in on it then."
She nodded. "I could be wrong but he's not exactly the type to be running a body farm."
Gibbs turned to her with a frown, hitting the stop button on the elevator. "Body farm?"
Morgan hesitated before nodding. "He works at a funeral home. He handles bodies constantly. I doubt that Captain Wayne is his first but his fascination with voodoo wouldn't have anything to do with his body snatching. They don't do human sacrifices. People made that up and used it in movies to scare—"
"Get to the point, Frost."
"Right. What I mean is, I think he's harvesting human body parts for black market sales. He wouldn't be able to do it alone though. He'd need a place to store the parts until shipment or sale and he can't exactly hide them in a storage shed on the funeral grounds. There's usually a team. Someone who procures the bodies, someone who disassembles them—"
"And someone who sells them," Gibbs concluded, starting up the elevator with a nod. "Good work."
"It's just a suggestion. I could still be wrong."
"It's a good suggestion," he argued as the elevator doors opened. "It makes sense and covers all the bases except we don't know who the person is who's taking them apart."
"I'll start looking."
He nodded, pausing outside the elevator. "Have Tony and Ziva verify the remains for every body Broussard was supposed to burn."
McGee hurried up then, holding up a paper. "Got the warrant and uh, Mrs. Wayne is here and Director Shepard is with her."
Gibbs started heading for the bullpen, eyeing the Director as he did. "Change of plans, Frost. Tony's with me. Get looking for the disassembler."
"On it," she answered, heading for Ziva and Tony to tell them what was happening as the Director called out to Gibbs with Mrs. Wayne at her side; a tense smile on her face.
"Special Agent Gibbs, I didn't know the new Director was punishing you. She always seemed very fair to me."
"Well, you're a woman. She doesn't have anything to prove to you," Mrs. Wayne replied as looks were exchanged between the agents.
"How about you? What do you think? Do you think the new Director is reasonable?" The Director asked, moving toward the agents who were trying to stay out of the awkward discussion.
"Very," Ziva answered easily enough as Morgan shifted to her desk and checked on Russell; glancing over uneasily herself.
"Why are you here, Mrs. Wayne?" Gibbs asked the widow, who offered a small smile as the agents dispersed.
"Have you made a positive identification?"
"Lab's working on it."
"I'm sorry to be troubling you."
"No trouble at all."
"The Manassas has been put on alert to sail early."
Gibbs frowned lightly, knowing this meant his time limit had shortened. "How early?"
"Tuesday. I have to have Parker's ashes there by Monday night. I don't want to wait another year to honor my husband's last wish."
"I'll do my best."
"You'll have your husband's ashes by Monday, won't she, Agent Gibbs?" The Director said.
"If you say so."
Understanding dawned on Mrs. Wayne then.
"She isn't the new…"
"Uh-huh," Gibbs confirmed.
"Oh."
Once the files were collected from Epsilon Corporation and Tony managed to find one that connected the company to a warehouse, things became significantly easier. The warehouse had a freezer in the back full of body parts that had been collected and stored by their suspect. While they weren't sure who their main suspect was, it did prove that Morgan had been correct. Epsilon Corporation had a hand in what was happening.
"You know what this place reminds me of?" Tony hummed as he took photos of the freezer contents.
"One of your stupid voodoo movies?" Ziva chuckled.
"No. My Uncle Vincenzo's shop on Long Island. He's a butcher."
"Yet another reason why I'm considering becoming a vegetarian," McGee muttered as Palmer started to roll a gurney by.
"We may need a couple extra gurneys on this one, Palmer."
Inside the freezer, Morgan and Russell were searching around as Gibbs spoke to Ducky.
"How many are we looking at, Duck?"
"Based upon size, skin tone, and gender difference, there are at least partial remains of six cadavers in here," Ducky informed him solemnly, checking the bags.
"This isn't voodoo. Looks like your hunch was right, Morgan," Gibbs said, drawing her attention away from Russell for a minute. "Body farm."
Ducky nodded in agreement. "I agree, based upon the surgical skill in which they were dissected. You've found yourself another chop shop, Jethro. Only instead of automobiles being harvested—"
"We've got body parts. Do any of these parts belong to Captain Wayne, Duck?"
"Oh, Jethro, please."
He stepped out to help Palmer get situated and Gibbs turned to Morgan.
"What did you get?"
"Russell has identified Broussard at the very least," she informed him, holding up an evidence bag with a piece of clothing from the man. "There's also at least one more. He's getting a bit confused between the scents of living people who've passed through and the cadavers. Like a butcher's shop, there's blood and scents everywhere. Hard for him to pick them all out," she explained as they stepped out of the freezer and she idly ran her fingers through the fur on Russell's neck while he leaned against her.
"And who's the other one you think you've identified?" Gibbs asked.
"Whoever has been chopping them up," she replied. "I had him do a perimeter check which is where he found Broussard but once inside there was a scent he followed toward the machinery before it got muddled. I tried to get him to find other places for it away from where the cadavers might cover the scent but no luck."
"Could he identify them if he caught the scent again elsewhere?"
Morgan nodded. "Sure. Though it'd be easier if we had something to take with us to let Russell know what we're asking. If they find any aprons or outer clothing that may have been used to keep the butcher clean then we've got something."
Gibbs nodded. "Check in the lab once we're back. Abby might have something you can use if they found it. Good work, Frost."
It didn't take long for everyone to get back either. McGee was sent off to get the mortuary records to try and identify which bodies were taken while Tony, Ziva, and Morgan went downstairs to the lab to check in with Abby.
"So, how grisly was it?" Abby asked.
"Not bad," Ziva hummed as Morgan agreed.
"I've seen worse."
"Shelves lined with body parts is not bad?" Tony complained as he wheeled a cart of evidence bags over to Abby.
"At least they were surgically removed."
"Yeah," he scoffed at Ziva's comment.
"Were all the bodies supposed to be cremated?" Abby asked as she lifted up a clipboard to work.
"I don't know."
"McGee's getting the mortuary records for the last few months," Ziva informed her.
"I do not know why anyone would want to be cremated."
"Do you really want to be stuck in the ground?"
"She already has a coffin," Tony told Ziva who gaped in surprise.
"No."
"I just want to know that the rest of my body parts, after I donate whatever I can to science, are going to rot for eternity in a familiar place."
"How about you, Tony? Morgan?" Ziva asked.
"Buried is fine," Morgan shrugged while Tony hummed.
"Ah, slow rot or the fast burn? Hm… Neither please, thank you very much."
"What's your alternative?" Abby questioned curiously.
"Ted Williams. Cryogenics."
"Appropriate under the circumstances, Agent DiNozzo. The only thing Ted Williams had frozen was his head," the Director said as she entered before handing Ziva a file. "Here's the information you were looking for. The principal and sole shareholder of Epsilon Corporation."
"Sean Oliver! Now I really do hate lawyers. Thank you, Director," Ziva replied, making Tony frown.
"Glad I could be of help," the Director said before seeing Tony's look. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, I was just wondering if Gibb's knows whose Ziva's secret contact is."
"We had a saying in Europe. Whatever Gibbs doesn't know…"
"Can't hurt him," Tony concluded but she corrected him.
"No. Can't hurt us."
Morgan glanced at them but said nothing. There was no way Gibbs didn't know who her contact was. Still, it wasn't her place to say. Instead, she stepped into the morgue where Gibbs and Ducky were talking; having gotten Abby's permission to keep a piece of evidence on hand for Russell who was waiting upstairs.
"It would appear they were all dissected by the same individual, Jethro. It's the direction that the incisions were made. Look. Straight cuts are normally canted to the right due to the position of the scalpel in the right hand. All of these were canted in the opposite direction," Ducky informed Gibbs who hummed.
"We're looking for someone that's left-handed."
"And knows what he's doing," Morgan piped up. "Surgical precision. They'd need someone who knew their stuff."
"Precisely," Ducky agreed.
"Any idea which ones are Captain Wayne's?" Gibbs asked.
"We've taken tissue samples of the individual parts and prints from the hands. And we'll try to assemble Captain Wayne where we can."
"I've got less than two days, Duck. We told his wife we'd return his ashes by Monday," Gibbs said.
"I could bring in another M.E. to help."
"Russell might be able to help too," Morgan offered. "He could still pick up a scent from these cadavers if we have something of Captain Wayne's. I would still confirm it with tests just in case the scent isn't accurate but it could get us started."
Gibbs nodded. "Do it. Abby should have something of the Captain's."
Ziva stepped in then, informing him that the lawyer Sean Oliver was protecting herself and getting picked up, and Gibbs gestured to the elevator.
"Come on, Frost. Get your dog."
Morgan sighed lightly once in the elevator with Russell at her side, ready and eager for what was coming. He recognized the evidence bags she had, telling him that they were going to do scenting and he was shifting at her side while barely restraining the urge to whine. Once the doors opened to the lab, they stepped out and Abby grinned at the sight of Russell's eager eyes looking up at Morgan unwaveringly.
"He looks excited."
"He knows what evidence bags look like," Morgan informed her, lifting the bags in her hand. "He's got a job and he knows it. You okay if I give him free rein in the lab? Let him get used to the scents first before I send him off."
"Sure! As long as he doesn't bump into anything, it's fine by me."
"He knows not to move things," she said, giving him a short command to let him wander away from her side and skim the lab. "I need to go let Ducky know too. I'll be right back. If he's getting into anything he shouldn't, just tell him to leave it."
"Will do," Abby chirped as Morgan stepped into the other room.
Russell wandered around idly, sniffing here and there and checking corners of the room and near the edges of tables and counters. Then, something changed. His ears perked and his nose stayed by the edge of the tray of evidence bags Abby was going through. She glanced at him briefly but he hadn't done anything wrong, so she let him be before his nose was to the ground and he was following something. The loud snuffling of his breath against the tiles drew Abby's attention and she stared in surprise as he walked right to the autopsy room door and stopped.
"She'll be right back," she informed him, unsure of what he was doing other than wanting Morgan back.
He sat though, facing the door and letting out a whine before barking once. Abby's brows furrowed as she headed over and she hesitated. Something was going on and she wasn't sure what. Russell was well-behaved and didn't bark unless told to or unless there was something important he was trying to get across… or so she hoped. So, she reached out and opened the door to autopsy and Russell quickly got up and hurried in.
"Sorry!" She called out to a surprised Ducky and Morgan. "He was at the door and barked. I… I'm not sure what's wrong. I thought he wanted to see you."
Morgan frowned, looking over at Russell as he circled the autopsy tables with cadavers. "He barked? You're certain?"
Abby nodded. "He was sniffing around like you said then went for the door. He sat down, whined then barked once."
"He's on a scent," Morgan informed her and Ducky as she caught up with Russell who was now circling a single table in particular. "I don't know how. I've not given him Captain Wayne's or the clothing we found in the warehouse. The last scent he identified was…" She glanced at them uneasily. "Broussard's."
Russell barked again and Morgan went over to where he was seated, staring up at the table waiting for permission.
"Ducky, is it okay to—"
"Of course. Do what you need," he said and Morgan nodded, reaching out and touching Russell's shoulders.
"Search. Find it."
Russell propped up his front legs onto the table to check the cadavers on there as McGee walked into the room.
"Is, uh, everything okay? What's going on?"
"Russell has a scent," Abby chirped as the dog was led to the various parts on the table before he found the one he wanted and barked.
This time, it was done repeatedly and Morgan nodded, lightly taking his collar and pulling him back before taking a tug toy from her coat and offering it to him. As they wrestled with the toy, Morgan pointed out the cadaver Russell had identified.
"Get that checked. It's possibly Broussard."
"We located Martin Broussard," Gibbs said, stepping into the interrogation room he'd left upon hearing that Abby had something vital to tell him.
"Then you have no further need to question my client," Sean Oliver's lawyer Simon Katz said sternly, getting up but Gibbs ignored him.
"We have him downstairs in autopsy."
"To identify the bodies?" Sean asked.
"Nope."
"Sean. They can do whatever—"
"He's one of them," Gibbs cut the man off, silencing the lawyer as Sean gasped.
"Martin is dead? I don't know anything about it. Simon?"
"We found his body parts in your building. The only thing we can't locate, it seems, is his head. I think your deal with the D.A. just went south."
"I didn't kill him!" She argued loudly.
"If you didn't, you know who did."
"As your lawyer, I advise you not to answer any more questions, Sean," Simon said but Sean wasn't interested.
Things had changed.
"A man was murdered here, Simon. Vernon supplied the bodies. Martin was... was just a delivery man. They must have thought he was too weak to stand up to an investigation."
"They?"
"Vernon and… Doctor Ross."
Gibbs stepped out and called out to his team in the bullpen as he picked up his phone to call Ducky. "I want everyone on standby, ready to take down our suspect in autopsy."
"Sir?" Tony questioned.
"Move, DiNozzo. Doctor Ross is the one butchering people and he's down in autopsy right now," Gibbs said, sending him off as Ducky picked up the phone. "It's Doctor Ross. We'll have a team down there now." He hung up and then went for the elevator. "Let's move, people."
After having hung up the phone, Ducky went back to the cadavers and eyed the M.E. Doctor Ross who'd started to help him. The team already knew it was him but it would be best if Ducky could get him to admit it himself or at the very least, confirm it.
"I appreciate you volunteering to help, Doctor Ross."
"Anything to get out of Bethesda for a couple of days, Doctor Mallard," Doctor Ross replied with an easy smile.
"Where do you want this one, Doctor?" Palmer asked and Ducky tried to figure out a spot for the arm as Doctor Ross went on.
"Is that what this is all about, the body parts?"
"It would appear that way," Ducky answered.
"It's understandable. That arm alone would be worth a fortune."
The thought made Ducky's stomach churn.
"Really?" Palmer questioned, having never thought of such a thing.
"Pharmaceutical and medical instrument firms would pay vast sums for cadavers," Ducky informed him.
"Where do they get them?"
"The willed body programs. Universities. But the need far outstrips the supply."
"A human body can be worth as much as two hundred thousand dollars," Doctor Ross informed the young man as Ducky closed his eyes in silent disgust.
"Well, how much do you suppose just a little arm would be?"
"A lot. It's not unlike car theft. A vehicle stripped and sold for parts is worth far more than when it's whole and harder to trace," Ducky replied, sending him off to a table to deposit it.
"Wow, this could pay off my college loans."
"Don't give me cause to check your car trunk tonight, Mister Palmer," Ducky chided before moving in to confirm one last thing. "Oh, um... we haven't yet determined the cause of death of this poor man. Would you care to open?" He asked Doctor Ross, offering him a scalpel.
"Oh, my pleasure, Doctor."
Doctor Ross took the scalpel with his left hand and Ducky smiled grimly, before it fell as the man made the first incision.
"I suppose you'll tell me you didn't do it for money," Ducky muttered, drawing his attention.
"Excuse me?"
"Dissecting these bodies."
"What… What would ever make you think that?" He questioned as the doors opened and the team stepped in with Sean Oliver as well.
"By the way you used this," Ducky answered the man, taking the scalpel from him and stepping back as the team surrounded him.
A low growl rumbled in Russell's chest where he was positioned between Morgan's legs and Doctor Ross gave the dog a worried look before Sean spoke up.
"They know, Ross."
"What? I… I admit the money was good, but… my intent was to help people."
"Is that so?" Gibbs questioned, not convinced.
"Yes. I don't care whether you believe me or not. As long as you do, Doctor."
Ducky didn't though, eyeing the man cautiously as Gibbs cut in.
"Before you buy this, he murdered Broussard."
"Tests confirmed it," Morgan spoke up; a hand on Russell's collar as he bared his teeth at Doctor Ross and she lifted up an evidence bag. "Russell knows Ross's scent too. Led us right here. Matches what he smelled at the warehouse."
"No! No! I didn't kill him!" Doctor Ross argued as Sean snapped back.
"The hell you didn't!"
"She presented his body to me as a fait accompli!"
"I did not! He's lying!"
"I don't give a damn which one of you did it!" Gibbs shouted as Ducky frowned.
"Well, I do."
"Tony, get them out of here," Gibbs said as the two argued and were escorted out.
Thankfully, with the suspects in custody, all Gibbs needed to do was ensure Captain Wayne's body was cremated and returned to his wife; just in time.