Everything was sort of buzzing in Morgan's ears as she watched Russell for any signs of alert while walking him through the ship. It had been a rough month for the team. Director Shepard was kidnapped while Ziva was under suspicion for possibly killing a drug hauler whose brother had done said kidnapping. That had been hectic enough and there hadn't been much Morgan could do other than desk work alongside Ziva. Now this.
An explosion had gone off during a case on a naval vessel that Gibbs had been onboard. He'd gone to meet up with a spy in a terrorist group for an information drop off and during the process, a bomb had gone off. He'd been injured and rushed to the hospital while another man had been killed and one missing. Her and Russell had been sent in by Tony to try and locate more possible bombs and then were moved to trying to locate the missing man. Bomb dogs were soon brought in though, cutting her run-through of the ship short as she pointed out the one locker Russell already located. The other bomb dog went off with its handler to search the rest of the ship and she moved to go find Tony and let him know about the locker.
"Do you think you could track down the radio man, Pinpin Pula?"
Morgan grimaced, doing her best to keep her mind off their missing boss and focused on what her job was. "Could try. With so many people being in the area, the bomb debris, and being on the sea where wind can throw the scent around, I'm not sure how far we'll get."
"Give it a shot, probie."
Morgan shot him a sharp look. "Don't call me that."
Tony just cracked a smile as she stormed off with Russell before stepping over to where McGee and Ziva were.
"Probie! I've got a special job for you," he announced as Ziva hummed.
"Too late."
"Russell took point on Rice Paddy Dike's foot locker. Tag and stow it in the truck for Abby, would you?"
"On it, boss," McGee said as Tony smiled.
"I do love it when he calls me boss."
"Is that why you're being nice to him?" Ziva asked as they moved to look over the laundry room where the bomb had gone off.
"Nice? I'm not being nice. Lugging foot lockers is probie work," Tony said before softening. "All right. I cut the probie some slack. It's a bad day."
"Yes. A very bad day, yet you were smiling like the cat that caught the cannoli."
"Canary, Ziva," he corrected, nodding down the hall. "I was just giving Morgan orders."
"Ah, being nice again."
"The opposite, in fact. I called her probie."
Ziva raised a brow at him, knowing how Morgan probably reacted and he held his hands up in surrender.
"Just lighting a fire under her, is all," he replied honestly. "She was losing focus."
"Because she's close with Gibbs," Ziva mused as Tony snorted.
"You think? She's practically a female Gibbs." he paused, looking over the carnage in front of him and lightly ignoring what Ziva insinuated with her comment. "What's the point of origin?"
Ziva grew solemn again, gesturing into the small room. "A fifty-five-gallon oil drum. That twisted ring is all that's left of it. What is an oil drum doing in the laundry compartment?"
"Ships clean and reuse them for storage. This one probably held dirty laundry," Tony suggested.
"Very unsanitary. Fragments indicate a high explosive. Abby should be able to trace the taggant."
"Why's his head and torso intact when the rest of him's a slushie?" Tony asked, grimacing at what was left of the body on the ground.
"Suicide bombers wearing an explosive belt look like this," Ziva informed him. "Except there's always something left of their lower extremities. You see a foot?"
"Not even a tootsie."
"A tootsie?"
"A toe," Ducky replied from behind them. "Although in my generation, tootsie also referred to one's sweetie pie."
"Sweetie pie?" Ziva questioned as she moved out of his way and Tony turned to the doctor.
"Any word from the hospital?"
"Jethro's critical, but stable. Then… he wasn't in here when the bomb detonated, was he?"
"That corner," Tony indicated quietly.
"How did he survive?"
"The washer and dryer shielded him from the main force of the blast," Ziva muttered before there was a deep rumble and rain began to fall outside. "It's raining."
Tony grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair. "That'll mess with Russell tracking anything. I better go check in with Morgan."
Things weren't exactly going well with interrogations the next morning. The Captain was holding back something that Ziva was trying to get out of him while the rest of the team was on standby until the scene could finish being cleared.
"How many times are you going to ask me the same question?" The Captain, Mahir, complained, lighting up a cigar and getting one puff off before Ziva snatched it and broke it apart.
"No smoking."
He spat a curse at her in Turkish and she responded in kind as McGee looked between them uneasily.
"What'd you say?"
"That I understood him," she hummed, glancing at Morgan as she stood in a corner near the door, idly petting Russell as he leaned against her.
"At least let my crew go ashore," Mahir huffed. "They have been at sea for two months."
Ziva laughed. "Excuse me. You don't appear to be the kind of Captain who actually cares about the welfare of his crew."
"That's it. I want to speak to the Turkish consulate!" He demanded, another officer in the room speaking up.
"I can arrange that."
"Yes!"
He spotted the sharp looks the team was giving him though and hesitated. "If… If NCIS agrees."
"We do not," Tony declared as he stormed in, tossing back a chair and sitting into it. "Learn anything, Ziva?"
"Captain Mahir knows more than he's telling," she replied.
"I know nothing," Mahir argued.
"That's very Sergeant Schultz," Tony quipped as McGee spoke up.
"Tony, how's the boss?"
"I know nothing," Tony mocked the Captain as McGee frowned.
"That's not funny, Tony."
"McGee, it's the boss. He'll be fine," Tony reassured, getting up again and waving at the team. "With me."
The group exchanged looks but went to follow him out as Ziva muttered under her breath to McGee.
"He'll be living off coffee next."
"Tony doesn't like coffee."
"McGee, I want you back at base. Start looking into whatever you can on this Pular fellow. Morgan, give the ship one last walk-through with Russell," Tony ordered and they headed off as Ziva followed him onto the deck. "Why do you suspect the Captain?"
"He smokes expensive Havanas and wears a ten-karat diamond," she reported.
"Could be zircon."
"Never doubt an Israeli about diamonds. Our Turk Captain likes money, the kind Abu Saif pays to transport weapons, explosives, and terrorists."
"I'll flip you to see which of us takes the Captain in, and who visits Gibbs," Tony offered, expecting Ziva to put up a fight about it.
"I'll take him in. You don't speak Turkish," she replied, giving in easily before pausing. "Take Morgan."
"Why? Because you think she and Gibbs are a thing?"
Ziva rolled her eyes. "No, because I think it will light a fire under her, as you said. That and Russell misses him."
"Course he does," Tony hummed, shaking his head as she headed off and moving toward the exit of the ship to wait for Morgan.
"Why did you bring me here?" Morgan muttered as she and Tony got out of the car outside the hospital.
"I thought you'd want to see Gibbs," he replied, eyeing her.
"You should've picked up Abby then," she said sharply.
"She's working."
"So was I."
"The rain would've made it impossible to—"
Morgan smacked the stop button on the elevator they were in, turning to glare at him. "Why am I here?"
"Definitely female Gibbs," he muttered under his breath, glancing upward with a sigh. "Ziva suggested I bring you, claiming that Russell missed him."
"Bullshit," Morgan spat, eyeing him.
"It's true," he said with a shrug. "Though I thought it was because she thinks there's something going on between you two. You and Gibbs, I mean."
Morgan watched him before turning the elevator back on. "There's nothing going on. He's my superior and we're on the same team. He gives me shit and I take it… I'd much rather be working on figuring out who tried to blow him up."
"Yes, well, there's not much figuring out to do until we have word on the bomb itself or Gibbs wakes up," Tony said as they stepped out of the elevator and headed to the room where Gibbs was. "Who knows? Maybe Russell will be the one to do it."
They only got stopped once by a nurse who saw Russell but Tony waved her off with a brief ID flash and muttering about him being a service dog. The woman rattled off areas they weren't allowed in and if she saw anything off about his behavior she had a right to remove them, but it all fell on deaf ears as Morgan stared through the glass windows at where Gibbs was resting. Two doctors were in the way but Russell fidgeted at her side knowing who was in there as much as she did. Tony soon waved the nurse off and nodded to the room, getting her attention.
"Come on."
The two stepped in and greeted the Director who stood near the back wall, waiting for the doctors to speak with her about Gibbs's condition. She hadn't expected Morgan to join them but didn't say anything against it, just giving the woman a tense smile that wasn't returned. Morgan also leaned back against the wall, arms folded over her chest and frowning lightly at the resting Gibbs in bed as Russel sat by her side and leaned against her. He undoubtedly wanted to go over to Gibbs but Morgan had told him to stay by her side for the moment.
"Coffee," Tony said then, cutting into the silence that had fallen over them.
"Coffee?" The Director questioned.
"Sure way to wake Gibbs."
"Good idea, but he's intubated. We'll have to use the IV."
"Ah."
One of the doctors headed over then with a small smile. "Uh, tell Miss Sciuto that I didn't abandon Gibbs. Chief Neurologist would have been here today anyway."
"I'm sure she'll understand," the Director said politely.
"I hope so. I like women with fire."
Tony cracked a smile at that. "Ah, so the dog collar and the tats had nothing to do with it?"
The doctor smiled again and took his leave as the Director looked over at Gibbs again.
"Does he look in pain?"
"I don't know. I've never seen Gibbs show pain, Director," Tony replied only for Morgan to speak up.
"He's not."
"I'm sorry?" The Director questioned, glancing at Morgan who looked at her briefly before turning her gaze back to Gibbs.
"He's not in pain. Not in the way you're thinking."
The Director went to ask more but the neurologist turned to her then. "Was this man a marine?"
"Yes," she said, confused by the sudden question.
"Wounded in Desert Storm?"
"He has a Purple Heart," she replied.
"That's it," the doctor said with a small smile. "I treated him in Kuwait."
"Gibbs never told me he was wounded in Desert Storm," Tony said as the Director shook her head.
"Me neither. I saw his Purple Heart."
"There's a lot he doesn't say," Morgan replied, bringing Russell forward with her as she moved to the side of his bed once the nurse stepped away. "If he doesn't show anyone pain, why would he tell anyone that?"
"He was in a coma when we evaced him to Frankfurt," the doctor explained. "Now, you talk about déja vu."
"Is he in pain?" The Director asked as Russell let out a soft whine and Morgan lightly shushed him, patting his head as the dog rested his nose next to Gibbs's hand.
"Certainly not extreme pain. He may be hurting but the only way to know is for him to tell us."
"Why not give him painkillers just in case?" Tony asked.
"I want him to wake up. An opiate would only deepen his coma."
"I've just never seen Jethro look like this," the Director muttered.
"I have. That's why I remembered him. That's the expression he had in '91."
"Anguish," Morgan piped in then, making the doctor nod. "Not pain."
"Yes. Yes, that's…" The doctor looked at her for a moment before seeing the same subtle look on her face. "Yes, exactly."
Morgan lightly nudged Russell, turning away from Gibbs and leading the dog out. "Come on, Rus. It'll be a while."
The Director stopped her though, grabbing her arm and releasing her when the woman's eyes caught on hers. "What… What do you mean? How do you know?"
"You've read my file," Morgan replied calmly. "I was the same way after what happened. Doesn't take an expert to see what's going on. Just takes experience. He'll wake up when he's dealt with what's on his mind. We need to focus on our work."
She gave a pointed look to Tony who nodded and gave the Director a small apology before hurrying after Morgan. Once back in the car, he cracked a smile at her.
"You know, when you talk like that you really do sound like Gibbs."
Morgan shot him a dark look then reached over and smacked him upside the back of his head, making his eyes go wide and his mouth open in shock.
"Shut up and drive."
Once back at NCIS, the team split up. Tony went down to autopsy to check in with Ducky; McGee and Ziva went down to the lab to check with Abby; and Morgan stayed at her desk as she tried to focus on work. It wasn't working, of course, and she growled before taking Russell and heading outside. She didn't care that it was storming out—it was about time for Russell to go out anyway—and she didn't bother to bring her coat with her. The rain helped clear her head and bring her focus down to three things.
First, the team. They were in disarray. Tony was doing his best to take over for Gibbs but the tension was tight. Someone would break soon and once they did, the group would need a wake-up call. Tony could deal with that but Morgan wasn't oblivious to what was happening in front of her. Ziva was getting the short end of the stick. Like Morgan, she handled things by not handling things. Their boss had just been taken out and she was coping in the one way she knew how, by pretending nothing had happened. This meant butting heads with others who openly showed they cared. She needed a sidebar with Ziva.
Second, the bomber and missing suspect. Tony would be giving an update soon as to what Ducky had found but Morgan had seen the corpse as well. Only way that man was missing his lower half was two reasons. He either had the bomb on him or he'd been on top of it. One made him a suspect and one made him a victim and potential stowaway. She wouldn't know more until there was an ID but she could scour the ship records and see who was missing at the time of the explosion. As for the missing suspect, they had little to go on until he was found. She could only look into his past to see if there's a connection to their terrorist group alongside Captain Mahir.
Finally, Gibbs. The one thing that was pulling her attention from the rest. There was nothing she could do for him. She knew that. She understood that better than anyone because seeing him in bed like that reminded her eerily of when she'd first woken up after what happened with Al-Qaeda. In pain, having been in a coma—part of which was medically induced but then the rest was of her own doing—and waking up feeling more miserable than before. She hadn't dealt with it well and once informed about her coma she understood why she hadn't woken up right away. There was no reason to.
With Gibbs though, he had a reason. He had a team that relied on him, people who cared for him. The only reason he'd keep himself asleep was if there was something in his past he was hanging onto that he didn't want to let go of. The injuries he sustained would've brought back memories of his time at war, much like Morgan's injuries did the same. There was something more to it though. Something happened in '91 or around that time that Gibbs was holding onto and Morgan was debating on whether she should stick her nose into it or not.
A wet nose brushed her hand as Russell whined, drawing her attention before he shook himself off. She took a breath and let it out in a sigh, bringing him in from the downpour and pulling out the towel she'd brought for him. She dried him off as best she could and moved back upstairs where McGee informed her that Tony wanted a team meeting with everyone. She waved him off, having Russell settle down on his bed with a fresh towel for him to roll around on as she went to head into the restroom and switch clothes into the spare ones she kept in her desk. She hadn't expected to find Ziva inside splashing water on her face.
"Ah, apologies," Ziva said, grabbing a few paper towels to dry herself off. "Tony wanted us, yes?"
Morgan nodded, eyeing her as she tried to slip past before reaching out and grabbing her arm. Ziva stiffened, not appreciating the contact when she was so on edge but Morgan had known that and was quick to release her.
"He'll be fine."
Ziva frowned lightly. "What?"
"Gibbs," Morgan replied, eyeing her still. "You're worried, aren't you?"
Ziva scoffed, turning away. "Not according to anyone else."
"Ziva," Morgan said shortly, making her frown. "I can see it in your face. I get that you're hiding it. I understand that. You are doing what you need to do in order to keep going and I think it's commendable."
"You're joking," Ziva argued, turning to face her but Morgan shook her head.
"No. I do. I can't even keep a clear head right now as much as I'd like to and if something were to happen—some life or death situation right this moment—you would be the one I'd want with me because you would keep focus and help me keep focus."
Ziva's expression faltered for a moment, seeing the honesty in Morgan's words. "I do care."
Morgan nodded, cracking a slight smile. "I know. We all do and we're all showing it differently. If they don't understand that, then they're idiots."
"You just called half our team idiots."
Morgan shrugged. "They are. You're doing your best just like the rest of us. Tensions are high, tempers are short. Go pet Russell. I'm sure he could do with the attention."
Ziva smiled as well, nodding as Morgan moved to get changed. "Thanks, Morgan."
Ziva, McGee, and Abby were dozing in the bullpen waiting for Tony to show up and give the report he'd called them all there for. The only one still awake and working was Morgan, who was working on the three tasks she'd set up for herself; setting aside the one about Gibbs for now until she could steel herself enough to invade his privacy. The elevator dinged, signaling Tony's arrival and Morgan picked up a crumpled piece of paper, throwing it to bounce it off Ziva's head. She bolted up and looked behind her before snapping her fingers.
"Pay up, McGee."
McGee got up wearily and pulled out his wallet, placing the money on her desk but before she could grab it, Tony snatched it up.
"In a bet on me, I collect. Abby! Front and center. You too, Ziva. Let's go," he ordered and the two women stood before him. "I know what happened."
Immediately the two began talking over one another before Tony shouted to stop them.
"Hey! If there's going to be any bitch-slapping on this team, I'll do it. Clear? Good. Now shake hands. Shake," he ordered and the two shook each other's hands. "There we go. That wasn't so tough, was it? And how about a little hug? Big buddy hug. Come on," he encouraged and Abby stepped forward to hug Ziva. "There we go. Now a deep tongue kiss."
The two punched him in the chest and he groaned.
"Now we feel better. All right. What do you got, McGee?" Tony asked, dropping his blood-stained tie on his desk.
"We've got Singapore's surveillance photos on the Bakir Kamir crew," he said, pulling up the pictures on the plasma screen.
"Make me hard copies, McGee. Captain Mahir will identify Pinpin Pula for the BOLO," Ziva said.
"What makes you think he won't lie?" McGee questioned, earning a silent smile from Ziva as Abby eyed Tony and Morgan watched the team from her desk cautiously.
"Abby," Tony hummed.
"Um, the taggant traces on the metal fragments were Semtex from the Czech Republic," she explained as she handed him a clipboard. "Khadafi, before we bombed him, was handing out Semtex like taffy to any terrorist with a sweet tooth."
"That eliminates my washing-machine malfunction theory. DNA results?"
"They should be in by now."
"What are you doing here?" He asked, making her raise a brow.
"Um, somebody called a conference," she said before moving to Gibbs's desk to check the results on his computer.
"You don't think that's Galib in autopsy?" McGee asked, earning a look from Tony and coming to the conclusion himself. "He wants to be sure."
"I've asked Tel Aviv if Captain Mahir is a blimp on their radar," Ziva chimed in as Tony corrected her.
"Blip."
"DNA confirms the body in autopsy is NCIS Agent Abog Galib," Abby called out.
"Okay. Any hits on the BOLO?" Tony asked.
"Too many without photos. LEOs are calling in reports on every Filipino sailor in the area," McGee explained.
"Did you run them down?"
McGee gave him a look. "Tony, there's two hundred and fifty thousand Filipino sailors. It's more than any nationality in the world. The way the reports are coming in you would think that they're—"
"Hey, I don't want to hear how tough it is, McGee," Tony snapped. "I want you to run them down!"
"Stop playing Gibbs!" McGee snapped back, making Tony stare at him coldly. "There. You're doing it right now. Ziva, will you help me out here?"
"It's true, Tony," Ziva said, standing up for him as well. "You're even getting a little grey around the… around the temples."
"You're not Gibbs, Tony," Abby added as Morgan slowly pushed her chair away from the desk.
"You're right. Acting like Gibbs doesn't make me the boss. Being senior agent does," Tony said sharply. "So if drinking coffee, staring, or whacking the back of your head helps me lead this team, live with it!"
He went to take a step forward but Morgan moved in front of him, staring him down. The two had a silent stand-off for a moment before Tony spoke, straightening his back with a hint of a frown.
"Yes, Agent Frost?"
"Being senior agent doesn't mean acting like an ass," she said coldly. "Being the boss doesn't mean grinding your team into the ground. Stop trying to be like Gibbs. You are Senior Agent DiNozzo who suddenly has to handle a team unprepared while his boss lies in the hospital in a coma. There's a point where you need to understand…" She took a step forward, making him swallow and lift his chin up slightly in unease as she eyed him. "Being yourself is better and the team will follow you if you are because we trust you. As much as saying that makes me want to throw up all over your sweater."
She scowled at his shirt before turning back toward her desk as Tony hesitantly glanced at the rest of the team who were watching to see what he'd do. Slowly, he nodded and the others nodded back as Abby smiled and hurried over to hug him.
"Yeah, all right. Get off. We have work to do," he complained, shooing everyone off to do what they needed before pausing in front of Morgan's desk. "Thanks," he grumbled as she shrugged.
"Everyone's worried and tense. Someone would have blown up at some point. Mitigating it is the hard part. For you, it's a whole new responsibility when we don't know when Gibbs will wake up. You took 'walking in his shoes' a little literally," she said, shooting him a look. "Keep your head on straight and babysit the team like you usually do but do it your way. The rest of us will follow suit."
He leaned on the desk, eyeing her. "You sure you're not related to Gibbs?"
She shot him a dark look and he smiled, holding up his hands in surrender and heading off toward interrogation to wait on Ziva and the Captain.
"I have good news," the Director announced later that day as she stepped into the bullpen where the team was gathered along with Abby. "Gibbs has regained consciousness."
"Yay! That's great!" Abby cheered.
"However, there's also a problem. He has some memory loss," she said, though Abby wasn't entirely bothered.
"Retrogressive amnesia is totally normal after severe trauma."
"Happens every time the boss smacks me on the back of the head," Tony added as McGee nodded.
"Well, you know, I had amnesia after my car crash."
"Your bumper car get T-boned at Legoland, probie?" Tony teased.
"No, Tony. I told you about when I totaled my Camaro when I was sixteen. That day is still a blank to me."
Morgan though could see the uncertainty on the Director's face. "It's worse than that, isn't it?"
The Director slowly nodded. "Gibbs's blank is the last fifteen years. To him, it's 1991 and he's a Marine gun Sergeant wounded in Desert Storm."
"He doesn't know he's an NCIS Special Agent?" Ziva questioned.
"I doubt it. He didn't recognize Ducky."
"Well, if he doesn't know who Ducky is, then there's no…" Abby trailed off as Tony finished.
"He'll never remember us."
"I am sure it's a temporary condition. In the meantime, we have an Abu Sayyaf terrorist to apprehend," the Director reminded them before Abby raised her hand. "I really don't know anything more, Abby."
"Can I go visit him?"
"Not just yet. His neurologist, Captain Gelfand, will let us know when he's up to it," she nodded at Abby again when she raised her hand once more.
"Can I run to the restroom? I'll come right back."
The Director cracked a smile. "If anyone else needs a potty break, now is the time to do it. We'll meet at 17:10."
Morgan watched her go, hesitating before getting up to head after her. "Director?"
"What is it, Agent Frost?"
Morgan shifted uneasily for a moment, wishing she'd taken Russell with her before holding up a file. "I have something to discuss with you privately concerning… concerning Gibbs."
"Okay," the Director said slowly, gesturing up the rest of the stairs. "Let's talk in my office."
Tony hurried up then and raised a brow at Morgan who just turned away and headed for the Director's office, leaving the two to have their discussion about who would be head of the case. The Director soon stepped in and opened the office to let Morgan in before sitting down behind her computer and holding out a hand for the file. Morgan started to hand it over but paused.
"Before I give it to you, I just want to say that I understand if I have broken protocol by looking into this. I wasn't going to initially due to… to privacy restrictions but I felt that if anyone were to try and understand why Gibbs is in his coma, doing this might help."
The Director nodded and slowly took the file, opening it and starting to read through it before her eyes widened and she looked back up at Morgan. "How did you—"
"I only used my current access codes," Morgan reassured her poorly, hands clasped behind her back which was stiff and straight as though she were back in the army about to be scolded. "Not that I'd be able to hack into anything if I tried. I just… I've been in his position before, ma'am. The one thing I wanted when I woke up was someone there to help walk me through it. I didn't have that. I had no one who knew my story or what I had gone through and I still don't, not really. I just assumed that Gibbs might… That the reason he'd put himself in that coma and stayed was to relive his memories with his wife and daughter. I never expected him to wake up and be…"
"You did all this for him?" The Director questioned. "If he finds out—"
"I will deal with that when it happens," Morgan replied. "As I said, by doing this I may have broken rules for NCIS agents but more than that, I have dug into the privacy of my boss. I understand that he will be… unhappy."
"He'll be beyond unhappy, Morgan. He could get you fired!"
"And I accept that," she answered quietly, not truly meaning it.
They both knew that. She wouldn't be happy at all but she would take whatever punishment Gibbs might dish out because he knew what she had done, even if it was to help. The Director leaned back into her chair with a heavy sigh.
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"No, ma'am. I did the research in my own time and told no one. With what you just mentioned about his condition though, I felt I should share it with you, at the very least. I assumed… you might know him best and know what to do with this."
"I apparently didn't know him well enough," she scoffed, dropping her head into her hand. "God, I can't believe this."
"I will leave it with you then," Morgan replied quietly. "I need to get back to work and share some things with Agent DiNozzo… unless you…"
She shook her head. "No. He's still the head agent in charge until Gibbs is right again. I'll deal with the terrorist stuff while your team get the rest."
Morgan nodded, stepping toward the door and pausing as the Director called out.
"And Morgan? Thank you."
She glanced at her and bowed her head, stepping back out and heading to her desk hoping she did the right thing. Russell could sense her unease too and let out a small whine as he dropped his head in her lap.
"Everything alright, Morgan?" Ziva asked upon her return to the bullpen with the others and she nodded, clearing her mind of the third task she'd finished upon delivering that file to the Director and turning to the rest.
"Yes. Actually, I have some concerns."
"About?" Tony questioned.
"The autopsy report," she said. "According to Ducky, Abog Galib was inside the oil drum when the explosive detonated. Why?"
"Maybe he was looking for his laundry?" Abby joked as Tony turned to her.
"This is serious, Abby."
"Oh! Listen to the pot call the kettle black," Ziva quipped. "Got that right, didn't I?"
"No," Tony said as McGee gave her a thumbs up letting her know she did.
"Yes!"
"Probie," Tony called out to McGee sharply. "Why was Galib in that oil drum?"
"He was hiding?" McGee guessed.
"From who? Gibbs?" Abby asked.
"Maybe. He ran from Gibbs, even though the plan was that he was supposed to get arrested in front of the crew," Tony pointed out as Ziva raised her hand.
"Another question. How did Pinpin Pula know Gibbs and Galib would be in the ship's laundry?"
"Right! Because they would have had to put the bomb inside the oil drum before they got there," Abby agreed.
"Gibbs knows," McGee pointed out as Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Gibbs also thinks the Giants just won the Super Bowl and Dances With Wolves is an Academy Award nominee," Tony huffed.
"I loved that movie."
"Me too. Those Native Americans were so macho in their—"
"Actually!" Morgan cut in, silencing them. "I have a theory."
"Spill it, Frost."
"Galib was in the oil drum, correct? DNA confirms it. What if who Gibbs met wasn't Galib?"
The team paused, confused.
"I'm sorry?"
Ziva frowned. "You think someone pretended to be him?"
"If someone found out about Galib—as we suspect anyway, given the bombing situation—then wouldn't it be possible that they took care of him and put him in the oil drum with the bomb? Then, had someone pretend to be him to meet with Gibbs and lead him there? Set the bomb off and it takes care of our spy and the NCIS agent."
"Why take out Gibbs though?" Abby asked.
"You said Galib changed what he was supposed to do?"
Tony nodded. "He was supposed to get arrested."
"If it wasn't Galib and he felt his cover was blown, he would have run. So, Gibbs catches up and just assumes the plans changed. New guy goes along with it, maybe offers him actual information to keep up the act, then just walks him to the bomb and sets it off. I'm not saying it's what happened but—"
"But it would tie in all the facts that we know," Tony muttered. "Is there any way to check that, Abby?"
"I mean, we could try."
"I want a reenactment of the explosion, okay? Using crime scene photos, measurements, Ducky's autopsy—"
"Ducky's autopsy findings?" Abby cut Tony off with a smile. "I know how to do a computer reenactment, Tony."
"Morgan, get a hold of Ducky and see if he can figure anything out that matches up with your idea on the body."
Morgan nodded and got up to head downstairs as he turned to Ziva.
"Ziva, what did you get out of the cook? What's his name?"
"Alon Atu. From the same Filipino village in Basilan as Pinpin. He's hardcore Abu Sayyaf. He won't talk unless I—"
"No torture," Tony emphasized.
"He won't talk."
"Try."
"Okay, but you're tying my feet."
"Hands," he corrected.
"Those too."
"McGee, Pinpin's photo get added to the BOLO?"
"Yes, Tony."
"SeaLift Command get it?"
"They are faxing it to all hundred and ten ships. There's no way that he's going to infiltrate SeaLift."
"He blew up Galib and put Gibbs in a coma. Plus, if Morgan's hunch turns out right, he might just be the guy who pretended to be Galib. Rule Number Three. Never underestimate your opponent."
"No, actually Rule Number Three is—"
"DiNozzo's Rule Numero Tre, probie," Tony sighed.
"Gotcha. Never underestimate your opponent."
"Now I need to update the Director on this," Tony muttered, heading back up the stairs. "Here's hoping Morgan's gut is as good as Gibbs's."
"Ducky, things have changed a bit."
"Oh, my. Is that so, Morgan?" Ducky questioned, rather surprised to see her down there so quickly. "We haven't finished the full examination yet."
"I had a theory that I mentioned to Tony and wanted to see if there might be anything you could find that would collaborate it."
"Well, if we finished with the thorough—"
"Just, hear me out, Ducky," she cut him off. "If my theory is wrong, then you can get on with your thorough exam as soon as we're done. What I'm looking for would be a bit obvious."
"Obvious how?"
"I think that someone might have posed as Galib and spoken to Gibbs," she explained, simplifying her explanation from before. "Galib is this body here according to DNA, so what are the chances that someone pretended to be him and had him stuffed into the barrel beforehand? Would there be a way to prove that?"
"You're thinking he was unconscious and put inside?"
"Or dead," she offered, glancing at the burnt torso. "I know it might be a long shot to see if you could find anything like a cause of death, but if it was something obvious, it should show up, right?"
"Ooh, now that depends on the injury. Things like decapitation or broken bones would be rather obvious trauma but given how badly burned and damaged this body is, well, it certainly is a long shot."
"I'll take anything you can prove."
"Ah, clever wording, Miss Frost," he said with a smirk, waving a finger at her as she cracked a slight smile and he looked over the body as thoroughly as he could without his finished examination chart. "Being able to prove a cause of death is trickier than one might think. A stabbing to the abdomen, for instance, could be cleverly hidden because of soft tissue damage being the only sign of trauma. Unless it hit a rib in the process, things like that could easily go… missed."
The way he trailed off caught Morgan's attention and she perked up.
"Found something?"
"Yes, well, I was going to do a brief overview from top to bottom and it appears that I didn't have to go very far at all." He brought over a magnifying glass to show her what he found.
"That's a cut on a vertebrae," she realized and he hummed.
"The cervical vertebra was cut very deeply," he agreed, looking down at the body. 'You were slashed from eat-to-ear, weren't you?"
"Machete?" Morgan offered and he nodded.
"Yes, I believe the Filipinos call it a parang. Though, one can't be certain unless we have one with us. It was a sharp, knife-like object though, applied with force heavy enough to—"
"But it proves he was killed and put into the barrel," Morgan said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Thanks, Duck."
"Of course, Morgan. I'll resume the full examination and call if I find anything more."
"Appreciate it!" She chimed back, heading upstairs and finding the rest of the team in the bullpen with Abby.
"Nice timing, Morgan," Ziva chimed. "We were just about to see Abby's reconstruction of the crime scene."
"You get anything?" Tony asked and Morgan nodded.
"Galib was killed with a parang—a Filipino machete—slashed across the throat and stuffed into the barrel. He was killed before the bomb went off. Gibbs met someone else."
"It gets better," Abby replied, playing the simulation as McGee pointed out what occurred.
"If Gibbs had been standing when the bomb detonated, he'd have been blasted into the bulkhead and shredded by shrapnel."
"Gibbs had to duck for cover before the bomb went off."
"He knew," Tony realized.
"Yeah."
"What's wrong with this picture?" Ziva asked and Abby raised a brow.
"Nothing. McGee and I triple-checked all the numbers to make sure that—"
"Not your picture. Did I make another idiomatic mistake?"
"No. You mean something's wrong with what we know," Tony said as she nodded.
"Exactly. We know Galib ran. We know Gibbs pursued him. We know they were in the ship's laundry. We know Galib was killed and stuffed onto a bomb inside the oil drum. And thanks to Abby and McGee, we know Gibbs knew that a bomb was about to explode. Oh, and we know Pinpin, a missing crewman on the Kamir Bakir, is an Abu Sayyaf terrorist. Probably the one who planted and detonated the bomb."
"You left out Pinpin Pula means 'rice patty dike.' But other than that, damn good summation, Ziva," Tony complimented.
"Thank you."
"So, as Ziva said, what is wrong with this picture?"
"Gibbs knows but he doesn't remember."
"Could we bring him pictures?" Morgan suggested. "I understand him not having the greatest memories right now, but if he could point out who he met—"
"I can ask the Director," Tony muttered, pulling out his phone. "It's worth a shot."
He stepped away to make a call and returned not too long after.
"What happened?" Ziva asked, seeing the look on his face.
"She was one step ahead of us. Showed him the picture we sent out and Gibbs asked for a name. Once she gave it to him, he said—"
"That's not his name," Morgan finished for him, making Tony nod. "So who the hell is he?"
"I'll talk to Captain Mahir again," Ziva said, stepping out to get him as Tony nodded.
"McGee, go with her."
"Yes, boss," McGee replied, stepping out as Tony turned to Morgan.
"You've got Gibbs's gut."
Morgan raised a brow. "Sorry?"
"Gibbs. He's got this gut instinct that always leads him to the right thing on a case. None of us would have thought about someone else meeting Gibbs but you jumped on it."
She shook her head. "It was a long shot. It was nagging me that Galib was found inside the drum. My first thought was that he was put there but that would mean someone killed him or knocked him out."
"Which brought in a third party to do it," Tony said, understanding her logic. "Still, none of us saw that connection. You did. Probably why Gibbs is so taken by you."
She shot him a look that he smiled at.
"Come on, you've gotta admit he treats you better than the rest of us. You never got the probie treatment."
"Maybe I just got lucky," she waved off, shooing him away. "Go have fun with your interrogation. I'm going to try contacting the ships again about not-Galib and try and get Galib's actual photo." She glanced at him as he started to head off toward interrogation to wait. "You think Pinpin Pulab is masquerading as Galib?"
"Thanks to you, yes."
The Director joined the team later that evening as the group gathered back up with their information. The interrogation had gone well enough, informing them that the Captain had been paid to stay quiet about Pulab pretending to be Galib and McGee was about to prove it. The photo of Galib Morgan had pulled up was now on screen for the Director to see as Morgan finished up her calls to the ships.
"That's the NCIS ID photo of Special Agent Abog Galib that I showed Gibbs," the Director said, eyeing it before looking at Tony. "What's your point, DiNozzo?"
"A scary one, Director," he said as McGee brought up the picture of Pinpin Pular beside it. "Captain Mahir admitted to Ziva that Pinpin passed himself off as Galib at the customs check."
"And Gibbs would have expected Galib to change his appearance going undercover. Growing his hair, maybe a mustache. Dirty himself up. So when Pinpin handed him Galib's passport it was good enough."
"To pass the mustard," Ziva said with a nod as McGee corrected her.
"Muster, not mustard."
"Galib's documents are vetted to get him on any crew in the world," the Director breathed.
"Including the Cape Fear or Cape Horn," Tony hummed as Morgan hung up.
"I just contacted the ships again after sending out the BOLO with Galib's name added to it. They all reply with the same thing. He's not there."
"Send it again," Tony ordered and she gave him a look.
"If he's the radio man, he'll be intercepting every BOLO we put out saying he's not there. We need confirmation of what ship he's on. Gibbs is the only one who knows."
The team went silent, knowing she was right before Tony groaned.
"Okay. Get me the crew rosters from SeaLift Command."
"On it," McGee said, typing away as the Director called out.
"DiNozzo, call MTAC. I want the NSO, Pentagon, FBI, CIA—Hell, everyone on ASAP!"
He nodded, picking up his phone and glancing at Ziva. "Go get Gibbs."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. Go." He glanced at Morgan with a smirk. "I'd send you but you're newer to him than we are."
Morgan barely spared him a look. "Just remember who's supposed to spar with you next time we meet up," she said coldly, making him wince.
"Right."
Tony and McGee were on the phone talking to Ducky and Abby with reassurances that Gibbs would remember them. Then, the elevator dinged and all eyes went to Gibbs as he stepped out in his blue hospital gown.
"Boss!" Tony chimed as the group got up from their desks.
"McGee," Gibbs greeted, making McGee correct him awkwardly.
"Uh, well, uh boss, no. I'm McGee."
Abby rushed over then, grabbing him in a hug and nearly knocking him down. "Gibbs!"
"Hey, Abby," he greeted. "I do remember you, Abs."
Ducky was waiting near the stairs and Gibbs held out a hand to him as well.
"Ducky, how can I forget? Your mother left you on a bus."
"I have no idea, Jethro," Ducky replied with a smile.
"Should you be out of the hospital, Gibbs?" Abby questioned as he started up the stairs.
"I don't have time, Abs. I'll talk to you both later." He paused halfway up, seeing the photos on the screen in the bullpen. "I should have known it wasn't Galib."
The team immediately began offering reassurances.
"I'd have made the same mistake," Tony offered and Gibbs looked at him.
"Well, yeah, DiNozzo. I know. That's why I'm so pissed!"
He smacked him upside the back of the head and Tony grinned.
"You didn't forget me!"
The whole team hurried after him and rushed into MTAC where Gibbs interrupted the call with Deputy Director Welch.
"In the Med, he could explode near a cruise ship. Nineteen will seem an acceptable loss—"
"No death is acceptable when it's unnecessary!"
"Deputy Director Welsh, Special Agent Gibbs," the Director introduced as Gibbs continued.
"This terrorist isn't after a cruise liner."
"Islamic terrorists love soft targets," Welsh argued.
"No, he wants the Marine assault ship the Cape Fear's replenishing in the Gulf," Gibbs countered.
"You don't know what he wants. He's a terrorist. A cruise ship, the Suez Canal—"
"He told me!" Gibbs bellowed, shocking the man.
"He told you?"
"Pinpin Pula is an arrogant son-of-a-bitch! He thought the bomb he'd planted would kill me."
"So he's not a suicide bomber?"
"For God's sake, order that frigate to break off!"
"I can't do that."
"Is everyone up there as stupid as you? Pinpin Pula is on the Cape Fear! He's the radio man! He intercepts every BOLO we send him and he replies 'No Pinpin here!'"
"We've got that, Special Agent Gibbs. That's why we didn't communicate with the Cape Fear until… now."
Gibbs turned to the new man on screen. "Jeff! Thank God you're there! Can you get your SEALs onboard without being seen?"
"We can execute a HALO insertion within ten hours," Jeff replied.
"The Cape Fear will have entered the Med. That's unacceptable. If anything happens, it'll be on some tourist video camera," Welsh argued, frustrating Gibbs further.
"The sailors on that frigate have video cameras!"
"We can confiscate those videos."
"What? You don't want this being seen?"
"An accident at sea is better than an act of terrorism."
"It's too late! You bastard," Gibbs spat, storming out as the ship blew up on screen and he made his decision.
He met with the Director after for a brief moment before heading down into the bullpen and looking for his sidearm and badge.
"Oh, I got them, boss," Tony said, handing them over from his desk drawer. "I got them from the medics when they took you."
"Appreciate it," he said, before handing them back to Tony and giving his shoulder a squeeze. "You'll do. It's your team now."
Tony was released and he turned to McGee.
"Tim, you're a good agent. Don't let him tell you otherwise."
"I won't, boss," McGee said and Gibbs moved toward Abby who choked out his name.
"Gibbs—"
He put a finger to her lips and kissed her cheek before turning around and heading for Ziva.
"I owe you, Ziva."
"I'll collect, Jethro," she returned and he looked at Ducky.
"Give me a ride home, Duck."
"Of course," the man replied, and then Gibbs turned to look at the black dog that had headed over and whined at his feet.
He reached down and pat the dog's head before looking at the woman the dog slowly wandered to. They stared at one another for a moment before he nodded toward the dog.
"Nice dog."
Her expression went tight for a moment before he turned away and started for the elevator. He paused though, turning back to his team and nodding.
"Semper fi."