Double update! Hope you enjoy. Brain has been all over the place but I am writing things I swear.
Also, this fanfic has been changed to an M rating!
This is due to not only the more... dark and triggering aspects involved in the cases going forward (PTSD, panic attacks, assault mentions, etc) but also because chapter 33 with contain more mature themes at the start. I don't usually do more mature/explicit things and it may be the only time you will see it, but it's there for a purpose.
I will put a warning at the start of that chapter and put a sentence in **bold** font when it ends so those who wish to skip it can.
"Don't you have paperwork, DiNozzo?" Ziva snapped at him after getting hit a few times by his paper spitball launched across the bullpen.
"What do you think I'm doing? I take the paper…" He balled up another piece and put it in his straw. "...and I make it work."
He went to shoot it across the room, but a hand snapped out and crushed the straw, drawing his cautious gaze to Morgan as she frowned at him.
"I didn't come back to work to babysit children, you know," she grumbled, heading over to her desk and dropping his damaged straw in the bin as Russell happily wiggled in his bed.
Morgan had just been allowed to be back on official duty yesterday, given permission by all her doctors and the Director to be allowed out in the field within reason. She was still on limited activity but wasn't as restricted as before. Her injuries were healing up, and the only remnants of them were a slight limp and the occasional flare-up of pain in her side. Some of it was psychosomatic now, but she was working on that with McNeil and doing what she could to figure out the source of whatever was still bothering her from Levi's assault. Other than that and the ever-present nightmares, she was back to her usual self, if a bit crankier.
Russell had been happy to have her back as well, and while he was no longer on limited exercise, Gibbs had taken over his morning runs and kept him active while Morgan did only what she was allowed and capable of herself. She still couldn't run for long periods like she had, but she was working back up to it as quickly as she was allowed. She didn't want to hold back but knew better than to push herself, and Gibbs would keep a close watch even if she wasn't. She appreciated him for putting up with her thus far and had hoped to get back into looking for a place to stay again, but every time she went to bring it up with him, he just told her to stay and not worry about it.
The odd thing was, she was beginning to not want to leave and wasn't sure how to handle that thought and others that had been creeping into her mind as time went on. She got used to waking up and finding him making breakfast. Or watching him come home from a run with Russell and wipe the sweat off his face and neck as a swirl of something anxious rolled through her gut. He was becoming harder to ignore, and it was driving her insane trying to keep that control of her thoughts in check. She had to have control of something right now, and if she couldn't control her own thoughts, then how was she supposed to deal with anything else in her life?
Hurried footsteps headed their way, and the team looked up as Abby hurried into the bullpen with a grin.
"Tonight's the night!" She cheered, confusing the team.
"What night?" McGee asked.
"Brain Matter."
"Brain Matter?" Ziva questioned.
"Yeah, my friend's band, remember?"
Tony hummed. "Brain Matter…"
"Yeah, you guys all promised you'd go with me," Abby said, starting to see they'd forgotten.
"All of us?" McGee asked.
"All of you," she emphasized.
"Even me?" Tony questioned
"Even you," Abby said, placing a ticket on his desk, then Ziva's, Morgan's, and McGees. "And you, and you… and you."
"Uh, I don't think I can make it tonight," Ziva excused herself. "I've got to catch up on… paperwork."
"I've got a very important thing… and another thing," Tony tried, making Abby glance at Morgan desperately.
"I can but I've still got trouble standing for long periods," she huffed, giving Abby a somewhat apologetic look. "Unless they've got chairs, I don't think it'll turn out well."
Abby pouted but at least understood that and whirled around to McGee.
"And I-I've got—"
She gave him a sharp look, touching the spiked collar around her wrist. "Some people wear these spiky things just for show. I don't."
McGee hesitantly reached out to her fist and lightly pulled a ticket from her fingers. "I've got nothing better to do t-than to see—"
"A dead body, McGee?" Gibbs asked, stepping into the bullpen as McGee let out a sigh of relief.
"You read my mind, boss."
"It's a quick read," Tony quipped as Gibbs tossed something at McGee.
"Pack up. Full kit."
"Motion sickness meds?" The techie questioned.
"Chopper's waiting at N.A.S. Anacostia," Gibbs explained.
"I'm fine on a chopper, boss."
"Chopper takes us to the ship, McGee. USNS Chimera. Get briefed at Anacostia."
"You know, Brain Matter's playing a really late set," Abby tried, seeing the team was probably going to miss it.
"That's odd," McGee interjected. "There's no Chimera on the register. Any reason why that would be?"
Gibbs shot him a look, and he nodded.
"We'll get briefed at Anacostia… Okay, I'll get my gear."
"I'll get Ducky," Gibbs said. "Pack a toothbrush. We're going to be there a while."
Morgan sighed, getting up and wincing as she did. "I'll need to find somewhere for Russell then."
Ziva gave her a look. "You're not taking him?"
Morgan shook her head, giving Russell a pet as he handed her the strap to her bag. "He's not good on ships. Too many ladders, not enough stairs, and with the ocean messing with his nose, he won't be of much use. I'm not allowed to carry him like I used to, so I need to see if there's a boarding place open last minute." She glanced over at Abby. "Unless you'd like to take him, Abby. I know you've got your friend's concert. Wouldn't want him to be in the way."
The others gave her back their tickets as she pouted, and Morgan took that as a silent answer and picked up her phone before Abby abruptly came up and pressed down on the switch. Morgan raised a brow but slowly put the phone down.
"Would you really have gone?"
Morgan frowned lightly. "Yeah. Why not? If it wasn't for my bum leg—"
Abby abruptly hugged her, making her lightly pat her on the shoulder for release before Abby cracked a smile. "Thanks, Morgan. You're a good friend."
Morgan cleared her throat awkwardly. "R-Right. You're… taking Russell then?"
Abby nodded with a grin. "Sure! I'll probably call in a raincheck with my friends anyway. A concert is no fun without people to enjoy it with, and gotta keep Russell's ears safe, right?"
Russell happily wagged his stumpy tail as she petted his ears.
"I think we'll have a night in. Maybe watch some movies!"
"Alright," Morgan hummed, giving him a pet herself. "Don't let him misbehave. He's been chewing things after being stuck on limited exercise lately."
Abby gave her a salute. "On it."
"We received word of the death this morning," Commander Skinner explained as Gibbs and the team stepped into USNS Anacostia.
"They say what killed the guy?"
"Isn't that your job, Agent Gibbs?" The man accused, making Morgan roll her eyes.
She knew these types of commanders, and all it told her was that he wasn't going to make this case easy on them.
"Commander Wilkins will have you out to the Chimera by nightfall," the man continued when Gibbs didn't rise to his bait.
"Chimera's not listed in the Navy fleet."
"It's not on the books," he explained. "The Chimera's a highly sophisticated, top-secret research vessel."
"Researching what?" Mc Gee asked, getting a drab look from the Commander.
"That's need-to-know. And you don't."
"That's the 'top secret' part, McGee," Ducky informed him as he removed his hat to get his gear on as well for the helicopter trip.
"Go in, get the body, come back out."
"We've got a death to investigate."
"Take witness statements. Do what you need to do. Just don't ask anything beyond your pay level."
Morgan scoffed, earning a sharp look from the Commander, but Gibbs just smiled.
"We'll do our jobs, Commander."
"NCIS was called out because no other federal investigative agency has clearance to get on the Chimera. That said, even you guys don't have clearance to know what's on it."
"Oh, I get it, boss," Tony said, adjusting his voice to have an accent. "It's a black ship."
"Black sheep?" Ziva questioned.
"No, they don't exist."
"I've seen black sheep."
"Black ship," Morgan clarified. "They're ghost ships. Not meant to exist to anyone's eyes but our own corrupted officials and government."
The Commander glared at her, but she stared right back evenly.
"They'd sell their own people if given the opportunity, so who gives a damn about some Navy sailors on a ship, right, sir?"
The Commander, seeing he wouldn't be able to ruffle her feathers if he tried, turned his anger toward McGee as he prepared a camera. "No photos."
"It's standard procedure."
"There's nothing standard about the Chimera. I don't want anyone documenting what's on that ship."
Morgan scoffed, packing a few more things into her bag and checking a medication bottle she'd brought. "No photos, no documents. Oh, but we want someone to investigate the death of someone on board. Sounds more like you just want to find out if your little toy on that ship got out of control or if the sailors onboard are compromised. Don't know why you don't just sink it if it's such a problem."
Seeing the Commander was about to lose his temper, Gibbs cracked a smile.
"Bring the camera, McGee."
"I suggest you keep your inquiry focused on that body," the Commander bit out, storming off as Morgan huffed.
"Hate people like him. There are far too many higher-ups in the military who think they're all that just because they got a high rank as a paper-pusher."
"Least we won't deal with him for long," Tony offered as Morgan hummed, eyeing where the man went off.
"I just suggest we don't stay longer than needed."
"I thought you were on Gibbs's side," Ziva chimed, drawing Morgan's gaze to Gibbs's.
"I am," she said, before turning to Ziva. "But guys like that won't think twice about killing us and the people on that ship if it meant keeping some stupid government secret safe."
Upon the helicopter reaching the ship, Gibbs roughly shook Morgan's shoulder, waking her from the short nap she'd taken as they prepared to disembark. The helicopter crew weren't able to reach anyone on board, so Gibbs told them to alert their commander and the team hopped off to take a short look around while the helicopter stayed near the helipad.
"Where's the welcoming committee?" Tony called out over the noise.
"The deck lights are on," Ziva noted as they removed their helmets.
"Nobody's home," Gibbs said, and even Ducky was concerned.
"This is most unusual, Jethro."
"It's creepy," Ziva replied as McGee gave Morgan a look when she yawned.
"I don't know how you were sleeping on that chopper."
"It's relaxing," she grumbled, frowning at the empty deck before them. "Unlike this place."
"It's a ghost ship," Tony remarked before the helicopter crew called out over the comms.
"Agent Gibbs, we have to reserve fuel. We need to know if you're staying, sir."
"Boss, I've got to tell you, I don't have a real good feeling about this," McGee commented, but Gibbs responded the opposite of what he wanted.
"We're staying."
The helicopter took off, leaving the crew to move down into the ship, leaving their helmets and extra gear up top for when they would need to leave. Gibbs gave Morgan a glance, noticing she was frowning as they moved further into the ship, but didn't comment on it just yet. She was probably just as confused as they all were about the lack of crew.
"I'm beginning to wonder whether they dropped us on the right ship," Ducky hummed as he, Gibbs, and Morgan entered the empty bridge.
"Right ship, wrong night," Gibbs mused.
"Lifeboats?" Morgan asked, giving him a look as he nodded for her to go ahead and check higher up if she wanted. "Maybe they jumped ship? Someone dies, they all get a little suspicious, maybe whatever they're working on is biological, and they run off."
"That would mean we walked right into it," Ducky pointed out cautiously.
"Check the lifeboats," Gibbs ordered her, making her nod and head out on her own to the deck.
Once she was gone, Ducky glanced at Gibbs. "How is she?"
Gibbs shot him a brief look but turned away. "Better than she was."
"Well, between you and McNeil, I'm sure she has plenty to talk about."
"She hasn't talked to me, Duck."
Ducky stared in surprise. "No? Why, I thought the two of you would've been the first to discuss what happened."
"I'm just lucky she didn't close herself off completely," Gibbs offered him as they headed up to follow Morgan. "She can share in her own time."
"Yes, well… Not that it's any of my business, nor would I know what it might be like in her position, but getting it out there may help her more than she knows. It will be difficult, I'm sure—"
"She was raped, Duck," Gibbs stopped him, standing in the doorway leading out and looking at him with a hint of anger at what had happened to her. "And it nearly happened again. She shouldn't have to talk about anything."
"I am just saying, Jethro, that it may come up unexpectedly if she doesn't discuss some aspect of it. If the two of you are to be involved in any sort of intimate relationship, it may come between you in the process. I'm certain that McNeil has said as much to her as well, but you know Morgan as well as I do. She won't say a word unless someone is there to help lead her through it. Not just anyone, either, but someone with whom she could speak freely and who wouldn't make her feel any less than who she was before that incident occurred." Ducky came up beside him and gave him a look. "I would have thought you'd be the first to do that for her."
Gibbs rolled his eyes as Ducky moved past him onto the deck, and Morgan headed over from a bit further off.
"Lifeboats are gone," she informed them. "They left in a hurry."
"Too much of a hurry to send a Mayday?" Gibbs commented as Ducky cracked a smile—the previous conversation being set aside but not forgotten by either of them.
"No, no, Jethro. No questions beyond your pay level."
They heard a groan and hurried after the sound into a corridor of the ship where Tony and Ziva were standing.
"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked.
"Calling Earl. Shouting groceries. Making street pizza. Technicolor yawn," Tony rattled off as Gibbs headed over to the restroom and McGee stepped out looking sick.
"I found something," he groaned.
"Lost something, too," Tony teased as McGee led them to another room.
Inside was a full-scale laboratory with cages, computers, screens, and high-tech equipment all over.
"Hm, I guess you can't judge a black ship by its wool," Tony chimed as Morgan looked around.
"Abby would probably like it."
"What are they researching, Duck?" Gibbs asked, knowing he was the most scientifically knowledgeable person in the room at the moment.
"Something to do with rats, if I were to guess from these empty cages."
"Skinner seemed pretty paranoid," McGee pointed out. "Guessing the mission wasn't purely humanitarian."
"If they're testing animals—which most places disapprove of already, it could mean they were headed toward using something on people," Morgan pointed out.
"Debatable," Ducky hummed, looking at the equipment. "Thermosalinographs, fluorometer, carbon analyzer… Whatever it is, it's not visible to the naked eye."
"Disease?" Morgan offered. "A virus? Biological warfare isn't exactly not on the military's to-do list, and it's highly frowned upon by the public, so doing research on a black ship would make sense."
Ducky hummed. "Yes, but there would be more precautions, I would think, to prevent accidental spread. Quarantine rooms, protective gear and equipment, disinfectant chambers. And why on a ship? You can hide a building far easier, I think."
There was a clattering sound above them and the group went quiet, eyeing the ceiling for a minute.
"What was that?" Ziva asked.
"Could be the metal of the ship contracting in the cool of the evening," McGee offered only to get a look from Gibbs. "Or not."
"Sounded as if it was coming from the cargo hold above us," Tony noted.
"Duck, Morgan, you're with me," Gibbs called out, leaving as he addressed the others. "Check out the cargo hold."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Tony sighed as Morgan and Ducky followed Gibbs out.
While the others scared each other in the cargo hold, Morgan, Ducky, and Gibbs began opening doors and checking various rooms in search of people or even the dead body they were there for. Knowing they may need to talk, Ducky moved further ahead and Gibbs took that chance to speak up.
"Didn't take you as afraid of ghosts," Gibbs mused, checking a room and closing it when he didn't spot anything.
"What?" Morgan questioned, frowning lightly. "I'm not."
Gibbs raised a brow. "You've been uneasy since we got here. Given what the others are probably goofing off about, I thought you might have similar feelings."
Morgan huffed. "No such thing as ghosts and even if there were, why waste their afterlife in this shitty place?" She shook her head. "I just don't like ships. I joined the army for a reason."
"Afraid of heights?" Gibbs teased, making her roll her eyes.
"Didn't feel techie enough for the Air Force and I'd rather see what I'm doing than just follow a pinpoint on a screen and drop a bomb on it. No. I just wasn't a fan of the ocean, so I didn't join the Navy."
"You said you didn't like ships."
"Cramped, tight quarters," she admitted begrudgingly. "After Afghanistan… They stopped feeling safe."
The urge to discuss more made him open his mouth but he was quick to close it. This wasn't the time or place and he felt hypocritical after what he said to Ducky about letting her talk when she was ready.
"Jethro, in here," Ducky called, poking out of a doorway and leading the two into the abandoned cafeteria where bloody vomit was on the ground. "It seems we've found our crime scene."
Morgan frowned, kneeling down with Ducky as Gibbs heard the chatter of the rest of his team and went to bring them in. Tony, Ziva, and McGee rejoined the group and gave the cafeteria a look around.
"Well, whatever's on this boat must be pretty damn scary if it got them to ditch this delicious looking… What is this stuff?"
McGee took one look and grimaced, still not feeling great. "Don't ask me. That's not a request, it's a command."
"Ooh," Tony hummed as he spotted the vomit Ducky and Morgan were eyeing. "The plot sickens."
"This is our crime scene," Ducky explained.
"If there was a crime," Gibbs corrected, looking it over himself.
"Well, you see these little flecks of brown in the blood? Coffee-ground emesis. Usually a sign of alcoholism but you can get it from severe gastrointestinal distress."
"Steady, probie," Tony warned McGee, grabbing his arm as he toppled backward a bit with a roll of nausea.
"Tell that to my stomach."
"Steady, probie's stomach," Tony joked.
"I would not stand there if I were you," Ziva warned, making Tony take a step back.
"That's a good point."
"She was talking to McGee," Morgan added, waving a hand at him to shoo him further back. "Last thing we need is his vomit and this vomit. Don't compromise the crime scene and just sit down somewhere."
"Gibbs?" Ziva called out, drawing him over as he shined his flashlight on the ground.
"Partial footprint."
"In blood," she explained, showing him the trail. "They lead out of here."
The team got up and followed her, moving them past a cooking stove that Morgan turned off and toward the back freezer.
"In here."
Gibbs stepped over the thawed-out bags of creamed corn and opened the freezer, allowing a body to fall out.
"You were right, Ziva," Ducky chimed, putting his bag on the ground. "Someone is on board with us."
"Not him." Ziva corrected, earning a glance from Morgan. "There's something alive. I can feel it."
"A lion-headed dragon goat?" Tony hummed.
"Maybe."
"Just because all the lifeboats are gone doesn't mean there wouldn't still be crew on board," Morgan mentioned as Ducky unzipped the body bag. "All it takes is someone not getting the memo or being ditched."
"Well, someone tossed a month's supply of creamed corn to make room for him," Tony pointed out.
"Please don't say that again," McGee complained.
"Tossed?"
"No. Creamed corn."
"There's significant petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes," Ducky pointed out. "These little pinpoints of blood. It's often a sign of asphyxia. Well, we won't know for sure until we conduct some tests."
"McGee," Gibbs said as he pulled out the victim's wallet. "Get me a satellite link."
McGee nodded and stepped out, happy to be away from the body, and tried to get a hold of Abby in the lab. It took a moment, given she was enjoying the music from her friend's band just loud enough that Russell could still nap under her desk but she missed out on the call for a little bit.
"McGee! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she complained as she turned the music off.
"What the hell is that noise?"
"Brain Matter," she informed him blandly, earning a more uneasy look.
"I love them…"
"You guys okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. We're peachy. I'm dealing with my boat phobia. Tony's dealing with his rat phobia, and Ziva's dealing with her ghost phobia."
"What's Gibbs and Morgan dealing with?"
"Claustrophobia," Gibbs said, giving Abby a look. "And them. Patch me through to the Director, Abs."
"No need, Jethro, I'm here," the Director said as she stepped into the lab, earning a curious look from Russell before the dog laid his head back down. "What's the status?"
"Well, the crew has disappeared… except for one."
"Did he tell you where they are?"
"No. He's dead."
"Have you ID'd him?"
"Yeah, he's—"
"Dr. Satoshi Takada," Morgan read off the ID Gibbs found on the body as Abby began to look him up.
"What do you got on him, Abs?"
"Dr. Satoshi Takada. Marine biologist. Lieutenant Commander for the Navy since 1997. PhD in Biology from LSU."
"Make sure Skinner knows he's got twenty men stranded in lifeboats."
"I'll get right on it. Does Ducky have a cause of death?" The Director asked.
"We're still doing tests. Don't know what killed him yet."
"Yes, we do," Ducky said as he walked back in. "My initial diagnosis of asphyxia was incorrect, I'm afraid. It looks as if Takada died of viral hemorrhagic fever… to which, by now, we have all been exposed."
"Can't leave the ship," Gibbs noted.
"Well, that's not a problem, Jethro. If my diagnosis is correct… we'll all be dead by morning."
Gibbs revved a reciprocating saw with an amused look at Ducky.
"Primitive conditions, Duck."
"Primitive?" Ducky chuckled. "You remember that tiny thatched cottage I used as an examination room in Namibia? Yes, of course. Then I was working on Pygmies.
"You know what killed him?" Gibbs asked.
"Well, if Dr. Takada was a bit too fond of his Scotch, what I'm seeing here is oesophageal varices, and this tear caused blood to enter his esophagus causing him to vomit blood. Or Dr. Takada could have had a severe gastrointestinal infection, that produced a Mallory-Weiss tear. In which case, the vomiting would have come first. Neither diagnosis is inconsistent with hemorrhagic fever."
"And if we were exposed?"
"Well, I'm… hampered from prognosticating further until Dr. Frost gives me a proper blood analysis."
Morgan shot him an annoyed look from where she was eyeing the lab equipment. "You could've always asked Tony, you know."
Ducky offered her a small smile. "Well, I knew where most of the team's intellect lies."
She rolled her eyes with a small smile at his teasing and glanced over her shoulder as she pointed at the equipment. "Is this the gas chromatography thing, Abby?"
"Close! It's the box-looking thing with the circular door on the front."
Morgan slid her hand toward a different machine and Abby grinned.
"That's it! Just put the sample in the circular rack at the top and press the blue start button."
Morgan nodded, putting the small tube into the machine, finding the button on the tower, and pressing it.
"While we're waiting for the analysis, let's get the blood count," she instructed. "So, place a small amount of blood on your slide. It's amazing what you can learn from blood, even before it's analyzed. I mean, the color, the texture, the smell."
"If the body was in the freezer, wouldn't that affect the results?" Morgan idly asked; brows knit in concentration as she used a dropper to add blood to her slide.
"Potentially, but we can calculate the added chance of error. Okay, um, now take out the dropper of Methylene Blue. It's blue-ish and—"
"I know what it is," Morgan grumbled. "I have freshwater fish, remember? I've used Methylene Blue to treat fungal infections." She paused and looked over at Gibbs. "I should really find a place to move them if I'm not going to be at my apartment anymore, Gibbs."
Ducky gave Gibbs a look and he rolled his eyes.
"We'll figure it out later, Morgan."
Morgan frowned, muttering under her breath about not meaning moving them to his place but brushed it off as she added the two drops of Methylene Blue to her slide as instructed by Abby. She placed another slide on top and slid it under the microscope, frowning lightly.
"What now?"
"May I?" Ducky asked, heading her way and she stepped aside so he could lower his glasses and look through the lens. "There's definitely an increased white blood count, with an absolute increase in lymphocytes having an atypical appearance."
"That would be consistent with an acute viral infection," Abby chimed in.
"I have located three rodent bites on Takada's body. Perhaps he contracted the virus from a diseased rat."
"That would be bad," Tony muttered.
"Maybe the top-secret whatever-it-was that Takada is studying is what killed him."
"In which case, it would be airborne," Ducky breathed.
"That would be really, really bad," Tony muttered, but Morgan shook her head.
"That doesn't make sense though. You said it yourself, Ducky. If this was a virus or infection they were looking at, then they would have medical-standard quarantine procedures should there be an outbreak. They would have actual doctors looking at this stuff over marine biologists. Takada shouldn't have been studying a virus. He's not qualified for anything but fish and marine life."
The door opened then and McGee poked his head in.
"Boss, I've got a feed from MTAC with Director Shepard and Commander Skinner. They want you and Ducky patched in right away."
The two stepped out to meet with them while Morgan joined the rest of the team to wait for their return. When they did, it was with annoyed expressions that made her scoff.
"Let me guess. Skinner wants to kick us off the ship and say fuck all to what we're investigating?"
"Until we quarantined the vessel, yeah," Gibbs informed her, waving Ziva over. "What do you got, Ziva?"
"We've been through almost every room on this ship," she explained.
" 'Almost' only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," Gibbs rattled, earning a small snort of amusement from Morgan before they heard noise above them again.
"Could be a rat…" McGee tried.
"Have to be an awfully big one," Ziva argued.
"Or a ghost," Tony joked before Gibbs gave him a sharp look.
"Are you done?"
"Done searching the ship? We could always search it again."
"I could stay here with Ducky," McGee offered. "Well, so he's not left alone!"
"I'm not alone," Ducky chimed in, gesturing to the body on his table. "I've got Takada to keep me company."
"Duck!" Gibbs chimed, waving a walkie and placing it down as the team begrudgingly followed him out onto the ship once more.
"Anyone else feeling itchy?" Tony asked, paranoid now about whatever virus they may have gotten. "Maybe that's a bug bite."
"Or a rat bite," McGee mused.
"No, no, no. Look at that spot."
"It's a freckle," Ziva said.
"It's not a freckle."
"Freckle."
"Never had a freckle there."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "You get new freckles if you've been out in the sun, Tony."
"You've always had that freckle," Ziva insisted as well and Tony confronted her.
"How would you know whether I had a freckle or didn't have a freckle? And by the way, I have never had that freckle!"
Annoyed with the team, Gibbs picked up his walkie. "Ducky."
"Yes, Jethro?"
"Give me the symptoms for hemorrhagic fever," he asked, holding up the walkie and letting Tony take it from him.
"Well, initially, one might experience a feeling of paranoia and a growing sense of dread. Then, more obvious physiological symptoms would manifest themselves."
"Such as?" Tony asked, uneasy with the whole mess.
"Such as the appearance of atopic melanosomes."
"Come again?"
"Spots. Possibly itchy. Then, a fast-rising fever, of course."
"I knew it. I'm gonna die," Tony breathed in shock after handing back the walkie and slapping a barrel nearby. "Definitely didn't picture my demise like this. I always figured I'd go out like Cagney in White Heat. Fiery explosion. Or Redford and Newman in Butch Cassidy hail of bullets."
"Or Charlie Chaplin in The Gold Rush," Gibbs offered.
"How did he die?"
"Silently."
Tony frowned before Morgan and Ziva whipped around to something out of the corner of their eyes. Ziva went after it first with Gibbs calling out to her as Morgan began to follow.
"Ziva! Morgan!"
They pulled to a halt in a corridor intersection where Ziva and Morgan were checking around corners.
"Didn't you see that?" Ziva asked the team.
"See what?" Tony said, having missed it.
"Someone running," Morgan explained, getting a sigh of relief from Ziva.
"Thank you. Surely we're not the only ones who saw that."
"The Chimera?" Tony joked, earning a sharp look from Morgan, making him lift his hands in surrender.
"I swear there was something there," Ziva pressed as Gibbs glanced up the corridor.
"It's not here now."
"It ran down the passageway. It made a right here," Ziva said, then pointed down the empty hall ahead of them. "And then it…"
"And then?"
"It disappeared. I know there was something there."
"Like my freckle!" Tony scoffed, heading down the passage and stopping at a door. "Uh, boss? Biohazard. Sounds inviting."
"McGee?" Gibbs called upon seeing the technical lock sealing the door.
"Looks like some kind of cyber-lock with a bar code and touch memory," he explained.
"It's right up your alley, McGeek," Tony mused.
"It's gonna take time."
"We're not going anywhere," Gibbs reminded him, but turned and started to head off with everyone.
"Thought you said you weren't going anywhere."
The rest of the group moved further down the hall as Tony started rattling on to Ziva.
"If you want, Ziva, I could check you for spots."
"No, thanks."
"I'm sure you've got hot spots, warm spots—"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs called out, silencing the man instantly as he shined a light on a dead rat. "Get this to Ducky."
"Me? That's a dead, diseased… rat…"
"Since you're so eager to talk about your diseased spots, might as well be the one to touch the diseased rat," Morgan replied with a smirk as Gibbs eyed him.
"You can show Ducky your freckle," Ziva chimed as the rest of them kept going.
They didn't get very far before the power cut, leaving a backup generator to kick in and keep a few lights on. Morgan, Ziva, and Gibbs drew flashlights before going quiet as they heard a noise.
"I don't suppose you hear footsteps," Ziva murmured as Gibbs nodded.
"Yeah, I hear them."
"Wish I had Russell," Morgan quietly complained, knowing the dog would have brought them to their intruder long before now and silently wishing for a bit of comfort.
Cramped, dark spaces were not her favorite thing right now.
Guns were drawn as the footsteps came closer and Gibbs used his light to light up the person who rounded the corner, but it was just Tony and his dead rat.
"It's just me. And Ben."
"DiNozzo, bag that thing," Gibbs complained as Tony asked Ziva to hold a bag open for him.
"Well, this moment is almost perfect. All we need is a storm."
"Don't jinx it," Morgan grumbled only for the group to jump when there was a loud bang down the hall.
They headed back that way cautiously only for Gibbs to find McGee sprawled on the floor beside a barrel.
"McGee?"
"Yeah."
"You all right?"
"I've had better days, boss," he said as he was helped up. "Tripped over a barrel. Made this kinda…"
"Bangy, crashy sound like thunder?" Tony offered.
"Yeah."
"You crack the lock?" Gibbs asked.
"No. Not yet. The touch screen… it's a bit…" He took one look at Gibbs and changed his statement. "I'm working on it."
"Why don't you work on turning the lights back on?" Tony complained as Morgan frowned.
"Didn't we just pass the electrical room?"
"It's like Aliens. Numero Uno," Tony mused. "Ripley, light in hand, moving through endless corridors searching for a hideous monster. You ever see Run Silent, Run Deep?"
"The 'run silent' part sounds good," Gibbs complained.
"The electrical room should be… right here," Ziva said as she opened the door and someone behind it rushed at her with a scream.
He slammed her into a wall and hurried down the hall with everyone on his tail. Morgan grabbed him first, grabbing him by the shirt and using her leg to throw him to the ground, drawing her gun and pressing it to his chest as she held him there. The team put their weapons away and Gibbs approached her, lightly touching her shoulder and not being surprised when she whipped to him dangerously. She'd just had a man rush at her in a half-darkened, narrowed corridor. Her force on the crewmate wasn't excessive, thankfully, but she hadn't let up yet and needed that little encouragement to hand him over to Gibbs. Her tense shoulders relaxed before she let out a heavy breath and moved back off the man, pulling him up to his feet and pressing him against the wall so they could cuff him.
Gibbs ended up moving him to a stair railing and cuffing him around that since he was adamant about struggling and throwing his weight around when they had tried to move him to a room. Already, he was beginning to see Morgan wear down and he didn't need her getting beaten around the ship because of an unruly crewmate.
"Let me out of here!" The man bellowed as he jerked against the cuffs as they shined their lights at him and Ziva checked a piece of paper.
"Here's the crew list. He's the cook."
"Get these shackles off of me!"
"Why were you hiding?" Gibbs questioned as Ziva followed.
"Why did you attack us?"
"Why'd the crew abandon ship?"
"What happened to Takada?" The cook asked instead, earning a frown from Gibbs.
"You're asking me?"
"It was that thing, wasn't it?"
"What thing? I knew there was a thing," Ziva chimed.
"What thing?" Gibbs pressed.
"They brought a thing out of the water. Takada was studying it. That's what killed him, isn't it?"
"Don't know."
"Don't lie to me! It's killing me too, isn't it!"
Gibbs grabbed the man before he could do any more damage to himself by fighting against the cuffs, forcing him back toward the stairs. "You're lucky if I don't kill you first. Sit down and tell us what happened here!"
"The crew," Morgan said, drawing the exhausted man's eyes to him. "They ditched you here, didn't they? But you asked what happened to Takada. What did they think? Why leave you?"
"They abandoned ship," the cook explained, a bit calmer now as he sat on the stairs. "They thought whatever killed Takada was contagious. Captain forced me to stay behind. He thought I had already been exposed from all the blood he puked on me."
"Nobody sent a mayday," Gibbs pointed out.
"The radio operator was supposed to. He was the last to leave the ship."
"So you were left here alone?"
"I thought I was and then someone hit me."
"Who?"
"I don't know. They hit me from behind."
"Maybe they did, maybe they didn't," Ziva tried.
"Why would I lie?"
"Why were you hiding?" Gibbs reminded him.
"Why did you run?" Ziva added.
"I thought you were the ones that hit me. There's someone else on this ship."
"What's in that biohazard room?" Gibbs tried instead.
"Don't ask me. I'm just the cook."
"Come on!" Ziva challenged. "You never overheard one conversation, one argument about what's locked up in there?"
"That area was off-limits to me!" The man argued, getting up only to get pushed back down.
"Sit down!" Gibbs shouted. "You live with these people, you sleep with them, you work with them, you can't tell me what's in that room!"
"That's where it is. The bug."
"Gibbs," Morgan said, drawing his attention and he moved to join her and Ziva off to the side out of the cook's earshot. "We've got a problem."
"Bigger than whatever's in that room trying to kill us?" Gibbs asked.
"Yes," she said sharply, glancing back where the cook was. "If he was hit by someone else, then there's another crewmate still on board. What's more, the radio operator didn't send out a mayday. This sounds planned to me, Gibbs. Whatever's being studied here? Secret enough that they didn't even want us here? Now, the whole ship's been abandoned and is free pickings with only a cook on board until we show up. This doesn't sound like an unplanned outbreak. This sounds like a way to get information off the ship."
"You think someone's faked an illness to make the crew evac so they can steal intelligence?" Ziva questioned in disbelief.
"Give me a better example, because Ducky's right. This being a medical research facility studying a virus with zero quarantine protocols doesn't sound right. They're biologists, not doctors," she reminded them. "Someone knocked the cook out and shut him in the electrical room the moment we tried to get into that bioactive area. The crew, who abandoned ship, should've already been found but haven't. The missing mayday, missing radio operator, Takada being dead after vomiting blood. None of this is adding up to a deadly virus outbreak."
"But if what you're saying is true…" Ziva looked over at Gibbs.
"Then there's someone trying to get the Navy's secrets off this ship," he concluded. "We need to get back to the others. Now."
They hurried back to where the other two had started to try and get the generator working only for them to give even more proof that Morgan was right. Wanting to question the cook for anything he might know, Gibbs took what they found back and showed the devices to him.
"What's that?" The cook asked, confused.
"Transponders taken off the life jackets."
"Who would do that?"
"Someone who didn't want the crew to be located once they abandoned ship. Tell me why I shouldn't think it's you."
The cook's eyes went wide. "I didn't sabotage any life jackets!"
"There's no one else on the ship," Tony argued.
"There has to be!"
"You were in the electrical room when the power went out," Gibbs reminded him.
"I wouldn't know how to shut off the damn power. I told you, I'm just the cook."
"That's what Steven Seagal said in Under Siege, look at the havoc he wreaked," Tony accused. "What about The Hunt for Red October? The saboteur…" He slowly trailed off at the look Gibbs and Morgan gave him. "…was the cook. I'm sorry, boss. I'm just saying, that, you know, just 'cause he says he's the cook doesn't mean he's any less potentially guilty. He could have slipped poison into Takada's food."
"I swear, I didn't kill Takada."
"Not with poison, at least," Ducky said as he entered the room.
Gibbs turned toward Morgan briefly when she flinched slightly at his quiet appearance but simply gave her elbow a light squeeze of reassurance as he headed over.
"The good news is I've confirmed beyond a doubt that Takada did indeed die of hemorrhagic fever," Ducky explained.
"That's great news, Ducky," Tony said sarcastically.
"However, the virus was injected into him. It was not airborne. I've also examined the dead rat that Tony so heroically brought to me. Ironically, it died from having bitten Takada."
"I'm not gonna die?" Tony said hopefully.
"Well, the bottom line is there was no outbreak on the ship."
"He was injected without knowing it," Gibbs concluded.
"If I could do a proper and thorough toxicology, I think we'd find that he had first been drugged. Takada was murdered."
"Why would someone do that?" Tony asked as Morgan spoke up.
"To get everyone off the ship and give them easy access to whatever is being researched."
The power hummed on and Morgan frowned, eyeing the light above them as McGee came rushing over.
"About time, McGee," Gibbs said, but he stared in surprise.
"Boss, I had nothing to do with it. Someone's messing with us."
"I'm going to meet up with Ziva," Morgan said, giving the rest a look. "She had eyes on the cook first. She'll be the first to spot the other crewmate too probably."
"Stick with someone," Gibbs ordered. "The ship's too big to split up completely and risk getting caught rounding a corner."
Just then, a door opened upstairs and Ziva called out.
"Gibbs, up here!"
The whole team hurried up and met with her.
"I saw something running on deck."
"Something or someone?" Tony asked.
"I don't know. It was moving fast."
"It or him?"
"I don't know. I have lost it."
"I'll say."
"Gibbs, I swear—"
"I believe you, Ziva," Gibbs said.
"See? Someone else who believes in what they cannot see."
"No," Morgan piped up, leaning over the side of the ship after having spotted a wire nearby. "The power was taken out for a reason."
The team leaned over as well, seeing a small light hanging off the side of the ship.
"They cut the power so the light could shine out a signal in the dark."
There was a shifting of equipment then and Tony had to dive out of the way of some falling cargo, but Morgan was already taking off toward the crewmate who'd dropped it. The rest of the team was quick behind her, taking alternate routes to cut the man off and once he'd spotted them and turned to head back, he was hit hard across the face. Morgan huffed, as they pulled the man up to cuff him and Ziva hummed.
"Mitas was telling the truth."
"He's not a ghost but he's got a certain 'B horror flick' thing going," Tony mused.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with," the man spat as Morgan rolled her eyes.
"Says the traitor to his country. Let me guess, Russian spy?"
The man scowled at her, spitting a glob of blood at her feet that she ignored as Gibbs took the man's ID and dogtags off.
"Lieutenant Ferris. Communications Officer."
"Who failed to communicate his crewmates abandoned ship," McGee noted.
"You're not very good at your job, are you, Lieutenant?" Ziva mocked as they pushed him forward.
"You're wasting your time."
"I think we're wasting yours," Tony countered. "The Navy's on its way. You're going to the brig."
"You'll be dead before they arrive."
"Save it," McGee said. "We know about the virus. Outbreak was a hoax."
"It's not the virus that'll kill you."
Gibbs gave Morgan a glance and nodded to McGee. "McGee, get the Director on the line."
"Sir?" He questioned before nodding. "Yes, boss."
He left Lieutenant Ferris to Ziva and Tony and Gibbs nodded for Morgan to join him. They moved into the room where they'd spoken to the Director and Skinner the first time and weren't exactly pleased to be dealing with him again.
"The approaching craft has no known identification," the Director explained to them upon informing them of the small craft headed their way.
"That seems to be the way things operate around her," Gibbs noted.
"Looks to be the size of a small assault vessel. Same type of boats I've seen used by marauders," Skinner explained.
"Except they're not pirates," Morgan clarified. "I'm sure by now you've realized this situation isn't fucking normal, Commander. No mayday signal, an abandoned top-secret vessel, the threat of a virus outbreak made by fucking biologists? Just fess up already and stop beating around the bush. We're not being attacked by pirates. One of your damn crew went rogue and is selling out your secrets to our enemies. Now, we're stuck paying the price for it. What the hell are we doing with and why should we bother trying to get it off the ship instead of just sinking it ourselves?"
"Agent Gibbs, you better get your subordinate under control," Skinner warned and Gibbs raised a brow.
"Me?"
The Director brought a hand up to her face, having expected his response.
"From all indications, Commander, everything she's just said is right. Either we rig the vessel to drop whatever it is back in the ocean, or we're told what exactly it is we're about to risk our lives for."
"Your agent hasn't been read in," Skinner argued.
"I don't give a damn about your secrets, Commander. I care about keeping my team safe. Tell me what they want."
"I can't do that."
"Can someone give me a damn answer?" Gibbs snapped, and the Director went to do just that.
"Put me through to STRATCOM."
"All right! Wait!" Skinner stopped her, giving in a little too quickly for Morgan's liking. "The secret material they have dredged up from the ocean…"
"What am I looking for? Something the size of a bread box?" Gibbs asked, voice tight and seeing Morgan's frown. "A gallon drum?"
"It can fit in a vial but it's untested. Unproven."
"Ferris has already killed one guy," Gibbs reminded him. "He's put twenty others at risk. This is worth something to someone."
"Boss—" McGee started, but Morgan got up and pulled him out of the room with a finger to her lips.
He went to question her, but she moved around behind his set up and pulled the plug to the link he'd set up, ending the communication with the Director and Skinner.
"Morgan?" Gibbs questioned, annoyed but seeing she'd thought of something.
"Buying us more time," she explained poorly. "We all know they're not pirates and that they're on their way here to try and steal national secrets. Skinner doesn't care about us. If he thinks the secrets are compromised by anyone, he'll just get rid of the ship. He's still not telling us what we're looking for exactly because he can't tell anyone in that room what it is. He doesn't plan on us getting out of here alive knowing either. If McGee came in saying we got into the biohazard room—"
"He'd see a smaller time window to do something about it," Gibbs understood, nodding as they headed for the biohazard door and McGee started to warn them.
"Now, before we go in there, the power is back on, so the ventilation and filtration system should also be back on. I know it says 'biohazard' but if there's anything biological in there, the room should be negatively pressured. The thing is, this—"
Gibbs just pushed open the door.
"—room is not. Uh, boss? Y-You really could risk exposure if you stay in there very long."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "It's not biological, McGee."
"It's not?"
She nodded toward where Gibbs was as he opened the case in the room. "We've been saying it this whole time. If anything on this ship was biological, then they would've had the precautions for an outbreak. Think about what's in the ocean that they could dredge up. Even Skinner was fibbing about the whole 'untested, unproven' bit. He wants us to think it's biological because then we wouldn't open the case and risk exposure. Commanders lie all the damn time. You just gotta get used to it."
"Gibbs!" Ziva called, heading downstairs to meet with them. "We've spotted the assault craft. Five minutes, maybe less."
"Grab Ferris. Mcgee—" Gibbs tossed him a manual. "Read up. Disable the ship. Morgan, tell Ducky to make up something to knock Ferris out for a bit, make it look like a virus. He's going to play bait."
Morgan nodded, heading out as the others did the same and they got their plan set up for the Russians about to board.
The small Russian craft approached and six armed men moved up onto the ship deck. Orders were called for them to find Ferris, not knowing they were being watched from above and below. Gibbs and Tony kept Ducky covered as they slipped past one man checking the corridors and a shout rang out across the ship, drawing one of the men away. Seeing a chance, Ziva and Morgan moved down from above, only for a man to catch up to them.
Ziva dealt with him quickly and Morgan muffled his cry as she choked him out from behind. They dealt with the man quickly, knowing they had seconds to commandeer the men's ship before they discovered Ferris. If everyone thought there was something biological onboard, then why not the Russian spies sent to collect it? The idea worked in their favor and with most of the men distracted by the downed traitor, Ziva and Morgan made quick work of the remaining one in the boat. They whistled to give Gibbs the all-clear and the team was soon safely down in the boat and headed as far from the ship as they could get.
"Ducky, how long before Ferris wakes up?" McGee asked as Morgan dropped down onto the floor in the back of the boat, enjoying the breeze.
"A couple of hours. It'll take him considerably longer to wipe off the fake blood."
"If the Navy doesn't get to him first," Morgan commented, knowing it was only a matter of time before the Navy did something stupid.
"How'd you disable the ship, McGee?" Tony asked. "Spew all over the engine?"
"Steering has several nonlinear effects. Saturation, dead-zone, rate-limiting… Bottom line is, ship's still able… Able to sail in one big circle."
Tony showed Gibbs the note he found. "Russian."
Gibbs gave it a glance. "Orders from the Russian Navy. Nice guess, Morgan."
"It's always the Russians," she muttered.
"Except when it's not," Ziva chimed.
"Soviet-sponsored pirates," Ducky hummed. "But why?"
"Morgan?"
She reached over and pulled up the lid to the case, revealing the warhead inside. "Our very much not biological weapon."
"Russian nuclear warhead?" Ziva questioned in surprise.
"There's your ghost, Ziva," Gibbs mused. "The ghost of Soviet Project K629."
"So, this whole thing was a Russian black ops mission to recover their nuke?" Tony asked.
"So, pirates that weren't really pirates but were actually Russian sailors were on a covert mission to steal a Navy research ship that wasn't actually a Navy research ship in order to get back nuclear weapons that we thought they didn't think we had retrieved?" McGee summarized.
"Uh-huh."
"Okay."
"Perhaps we should call the Russian Navy," Ducky suggested. "Tell them we're on the Russian black ship and the Russians are on theirs."
There was a sound overhead though, that Morgan idly pointed at; head tipped back against the boat and eyes closed. The Chimera behind him was hit by a missile, exploding with the Russians on board as they eyed the ship uneasily.
"I guess the Navy didn't want anyone to know their black ship ever existed," McGee chimed as Ziva looked back at Gibbs.
"How did they know we were off the ship?"
"They didn't," Morgan chimed. "They could care less so long as their big old secret is safe. They'll meet us on shore, guns drawn, then realize it's us and not the Russians and give us a big ol' thanks now fuck off."
"Maybe we'll get a vacation," Gibbs teased, looking at her from over his shoulder. "We can go sailing."
Morgan let out a bark of laughter at that, and Tony leaned over toward a surprised McGee.
"Maybe there was a virus. She's delirious."
Morgan shot him a look. "How much trouble would I get in if Tony went for a swim, Gibbs?"
"I'm not looking," Gibbs chimed with a smile.
"Boss!"