Another double post for you all. Chapter 28 will have trigger warnings.
"Anyone else have their own key?" Gibbs asked as the team headed down the hall of the hotel that Courtney had brought them to.
"No. We met here weekly so no one would see us together. He agreed to play along in exchange for leniency but he knew it could be dangerous."
The team stepped inside and Morgan unclipped Russell from his leash to search.
"Forget the puppy, McGee," Tony hummed as he eyed the room. "A place like this is what you need to score with the chicks."
"Do you ever think of anything other than women?" Morgan grumbled, earning a cocky grin from him before Russell barked, drawing their attention.
"Here," Gibbs called, giving the dog a pet for alerting to the bed in the bedroom.
Morgan drew him away and sent him to check the rest of the house as the team took pictures of the few blood splatters on the bed and a small ball of mercury; which was quickly collected for evidence. The bedding was moved and the lights turned out for Ziva to check for bodily fluids once she swabbed the blood.
"Ooh, fluids. And lots of them," she commented as the lights were flicked back on.
"No surprise there," Tony remarked as McGee agreed.
"Six years in prison."
"The Eraser made the initial contact at the Crab Shack," Courtney explained to Gibbs as he looked around the main living area.
"Not face-to-face," Gibbs noted.
"No. Slipped him a note."
"So, you sent Hinton back, hoping for another one."
She nodded. "Hinton was supposed to keep a record of anyone he came in contact with. I was running background checks, chasing down his leads. I was waiting for anything new."
"You got your wish," Ziva chimed as they regrouped. "Your first crime scene. He was killed in that room."
The team went back to headquarters with their evidence, Gibbs and McGee dropping down into Abby's lab while the rest stayed up in the bullpen to search through what they could. A delivery guy brought in some food for them while they worked and Tony paid before digging through it.
"Portobello mushroom, no tomato," he hummed, passing it to Courtney. "Philly cheese steak, extra steak, extra cheese."
That one was thrown to Ziva who caught it.
"Roast pork," he called out, tossing it to Morgan who caught it without looking away from her screen.
"Do we have any info on this guy's contacts at all?" She asked as Courtney, showed photos to Tony.
"These are all Hinton's contacts."
"Can't help but notice they're all women," Tony pointed out, making Morgan scoff, abandoning her work and pulling out an energy drink instead.
"That's a no. He wasn't looking for your big fish at all. What a waste of money."
"What if the Eraser was a woman?" Tony suggested, and even Courtney wasn't convinced.
"I don't think he thought so."
"Well… 'Cause, you know. You said he was enjoying himself," Tony remarked, making Courtney chuckle. "You, you…"
"You have mushroom in your teeth," Ziva pointed out, since Tony couldn't seem to.
"Where's your bathroom?" Courtney asked, embarrassed and Tony went to show her as McGee returned.
"Hey, so I've been thinking about the murder—"
"Glad somebody has been," Morgan remarked, taking a bite of her Philly Cheesesteak.
"Why kill him that way? I mean, an injection into the brain, definitely not the most common method."
Morgan grunted, nodding and pointing at him as Ziva spoke up.
"To find out why you must ask who. Someone tidy. Someone who doesn't like messes."
"You have a theory?" McGee noted as Ziva got up.
"Someone who needs to be in constant control of the situation. Someone who does not like to lose control of their emotions."
"Ziva, what are you doing?" McGee asked as she grabbed Courtney's purse and started going through it.
Morgan though, rolled her eyes and put her food down to wipe her hands. "Being jealous."
"I am not being jealous," Ziva argued as McGee glanced between them for a second uneasily.
"I'm not an expert here, but I'm pretty sure what you're doing now is a violation of the code," McGee tried.
"It is not against the law."
"The woman's code," McGee clarified.
"McGee, I bet you if we take a strand of her hair, it will match the sample from Hinton's condo."
"She was there every week," Morgan pointed out as Ziva looked over the woman's brush.
"This woman is uptight. Not even a single strand," she complained, putting the brush back. "We will have to go to the source."
"Ziva, no hair-pulling!" McGee warned.
"She's the only one that was in contact with Hinton. It would have been easy for her to just sweep him under the rug."
"She has no motive," Morgan argued.
"She's ambitious. He became too much of a complication. When someone's that uptight, it's only a matter of time before they snap."
Morgan sighed heavily, leaning back in her seat and giving Ziva a tired look. "You realize Tony would flirt with a blow-up doll if he had the opportunity, so it's a waste of your time and energy to be jealous of every object of his affection?"
"I'm not jealous," Ziva snapped at her as McGee held up his hands and moved between them.
"Okay, but you don't like her."
"Do you?"
"I understand what she's going through," McGee explained. "I remember what it was like to be green, afraid you're going to mess up."
"Which she did."
"So, what? You want to rub it in? Come on, Ziva. I think she deserves a little sympathy."
"And if it helps," Morgan added. "It wasn't her fault. If anything her bosses screwed up by thinking he was a useful piece of bait and not following through with it."
"All right," Ziva said, heading over to Morgan's desk and leaning on it. "What about you, then, hm?"
Morgan raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
Ziva nodded at her. "You're hurt, injured since this morning. You and Gibbs had a fight."
"Ziva," McGee warned, seeing Morgan's gaze harden.
"In fact, you've both been fighting for some time. Back and forth, the two of you are bickering or passing each other gifts and back to avoiding each other. You're hiding something from him, aren't you? From all of us. So, since you're so convinced that I'm being distracted from my job because of some jealousy, why don't we talk about who attacked you and why you refuse to let Gibbs or any of us help?"
Morgan's jaw went tight and McGee was quick to get up and move over to Ziva's side, lightly grabbing her arm.
"Okay! Maybe we can all just take a step back and—"
"Because it's none of your business," Morgan bit out and McGee raised his eyes to the ceiling to beg whatever God was listening that this wouldn't turn into a brawl.
"Oh, so we don't matter to you anymore?" Ziva argued. "Because friends would tell their friends if something was going on, especially if it was something dangerous that puts people at risk!"
Morgan got up as Russell whined uneasily. "Friends would keep other friends out of it if it meant putting them at risk and I am not putting you at risk just to keep you happy."
McGee was struggling to somehow resolve this situation and felt a hint of relief when he spotted someone in the distance. "Boss!"
Gibbs had just stepped out of the elevator after checking with Abby and had planned on grabbing his things to go meet up with Fornell to discuss what was going on. Upon stepping out and seeing McGee's desperate expression as well as Morgan and Ziva on their feet, facing each other with heated glares, he could only take a guess at what was going on. So, with a resigned sigh, he moved into the bullpen and walked past the trio to get his things.
"Morgan," he chimed, picking up his bag and packing his things in it. "Let's go."
She didn't budge and Gibbs went over to her desk as McGee lightly tugged Ziva away, blocking their angry gazes as he faced her.
"Now, Morgan. You two can fight it out later."
Morgan's eyes shifted to his, still holding that anger but she huffed and sat back in her chair to grab her bag and sort out her things.
"You can't keep letting her lie about this, Gibbs," Ziva argued, drawing his gaze to her. "We deserve to know what's going on. If she's getting attacked—"
"Ziva," Gibbs said sharply, silencing her. "I'll handle it but she's not the only one who's hidden things from her friends before."
Ziva pursed her lips but nodded, knowing he was right and begrudgingly backing down for now. McGee offered Gibbs a small nod of gratitude and Gibbs scooped up Morgan's bag when she finished, ignoring her annoyed look before nodding toward the elevator. She huffed but called Russell over and followed him in.
"I don't want to stay at your place," she said right off the bat, which he expected.
"Okay. I'll book us a room somewhere then."
She glared at him as the elevator opened to let them off in the carpark. "That's not what I meant."
He shrugged. "Those are your options. You're not going back to your place and I'm not going to risk you getting attacked again because I'm not around."
"It won't matter if you're around or not," Morgan argued.
"Then, me being with you shouldn't be a big deal."
He knew he was pushing her buttons but this was something he wouldn't budge on. She knew this as well, and despite her grievances, she didn't actually want to be on her own tonight. So, she didn't argue further as they got into Gibbs's car and headed off.
"I need to stop by to talk to Fornell. Won't be very long."
Morgan glanced at him but just nodded, unbothered. She was fine waiting in the car and had Russell if needed. Gibbs trusted the dog and the FBI wasn't exactly an easy place to sneak into, so he wasn't worried about her problem. His talk with Fornell ended up with more information than expected and it wasn't necessarily good. It required a quick call to the Director who told him to gather everyone first thing in the morning for briefing on their new suspect: Kamal Konkani. They had a good eight hours before then though, so Gibbs climbed back into the car with Morgan and started to drive them to a nearby hotel. He paid for the room they would share, ignoring Morgan's complaints about it, and dropped off his things as he called out to her.
"You want anything to eat?"
"No. Tony got Philly Cheesesteaks before we left."
Gibbs grunted, not really hungry himself and he popped open the mini-fridge. "Beer?"
"Sure," she gave in, dropping onto the edge of the bed and taking off her shoes.
He pulled out a can for her and handed it over, nodding to the restroom. "You want the shower first?"
"Go ahead," she told him and he shrugged before grabbing a spare set of clothes from his bag and heading in.
Once the water was running, Morgan let out a heavy sigh. The tension between them was driving her nuts. Gibbs was playing it off as though nothing happened and Ziva bringing it up was more than frustrating. Morgan knew she was pulling away from everyone on the team by hiding things, but she wasn't sure what more she could do. Her options were limited and the last thing she wanted was for someone on the team to get hurt because of her. At the same time, she was really getting worn down. She was exhausted both physically and mentally, and despite her fighting with Gibbs, she was glad he was here. She wasn't sure she'd sleep at all but at least she wouldn't be on her own with her mind making up paranoid thoughts and ideas about what Levi was going to do.
There was a knock on the door then and Morgan jumped, muttering a curse under her breath as a hotel worker called out from the other side. She got up, patting her leg to bring Russell close—remaining cautious nonetheless—and cracked open the door with the chain still on. An older Hispanic woman was on the other side with a covered tray of food, explaining that she'd brought it as requested. Morgan closed the door to remove the chain and accepted the food from her with a muttered thanks. She assumed Gibbs ordered something for himself and brought it into the room after latching the door again.
She dug through her bag for her own spare set of clothes and idly turned the television on to watch something as she settled in until Gibbs came out of the shower. Russell hopped up on her end of the bed and rested his head on her hip, letting her card her fingers through his fur as she sipped at her beer and frowned at the CSI television show she'd landed on. Gibbs didn't take long, stepping out of the shower with a towel over his head and neck, wearing a Navy-printed grey sweater and a pair of shorts.
"You're up," he said, before spotting the tray of food on the desk and frowning. "Did you order something?"
Morgan frowned, sitting up as Russell yawned beside her. "I thought you did. You were the one talking about food."
The realization that neither of them ordered the meal dawned on them and Morgan felt sick as a curse spilled from her lips. She got up and rushed toward the tray, pulling the cover off it and grinding her teeth at the club sandwich and fries settled within along with a photo with a note scrawled on the back.
Love the uniform.
Gibbs grabbed Morgan's arm before she could grab the tray and throw it across the room; feeling her anger and frustration as she snarled and spat out curses.
"That mother fucker! I'll kill him! I swear to fucking God, I will!"
Russell began barking as Gibbs pulled her away from the tray; forcing her toward the bathroom and shushing Russell to make him stop before someone complained.
"Morgan. Morgan, listen to me."
"No, Gibbs! I told you this would happen! I fucking said he would—"
"I understand that, but you need to listen to me right now," Gibbs pressed. "Go take a shower. Calm down while I contact the front desk, okay? I'll deal with it. Just… take a minute for yourself and we'll go from there."
She was reluctant but just him being there and talking her through it was helping. Already, her quick, panicked breaths were calming down and what might have turned into a panic attack if she had been alone, was quickly mellowing out. She was regaining control and as she pulled a shaky hand through her hair, she nodded, turning toward the shower for a second.
"Can I have…"
"Yeah. Yes, of course. Russell?" Gibbs called, and the dog was quick to hurry over and join her in the bathroom with a concerned whine. "Take your time, Morgan."
She disappeared behind the closed door and Gibbs's face turned dark. He went over to the food tray and picked up the photo from the same corner Morgan had, looking over it for prints. He couldn't see any and scowled at the image of Morgan and him at the Crab Shack earlier in the day. He'd felt them being watched but brushed it off as nothing and look what had happened.
It made him angry. It made him dangerous and he hoped Levi knew how lucky he was that Gibbs couldn't grab a hold of him and strangle him this very moment. He went over to the phone and called the reception, demanding a manager to be sent to their room when he was told they didn't know who had brought the food. It didn't take long for the manager to show up once Gibbs mentioned they were NCIS, and the fumbling man who greeted him at the door struggled to help.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, but we have no way of knowing who gave us the order. According to the concierge, the person who requested it called the front desk and sent the order by room number. No one even saw him!"
"I hope you're willing to bet your job on that," Gibbs spat out.
"We'll waive the room fee, as I said, but there's nothing more we can do."
Gibbs didn't care and sent him away, muttering a curse under his breath. He wanted to call the team in, have them question everyone they could, have Abby check the photo for anything he was missing and get something set up to help keep Morgan safe but he couldn't. Not without risking her leaving him. He needed to talk to her about this. Properly talk. No shouting, no arguing, just… doing what he could to convince her they needed help on this while understanding where she was coming from.
The shower turned off and he glanced at the door briefly before turning back to the tray and moving it out of sight. Morgan stepped out far more relaxed than she had been, but he could see the tension still coiled tight in her body; clothed in a black tank top and pair of shorts that stopped just before the edge of some bandages on her left thigh. The sight of the injury added to the anger rolling in his gut, but he smothered it down for now as she glanced over where the tray had been.
"Anything?" She asked, voice quiet and rather unlike her.
"He called it in and said our room specifically. No one saw his face or knew where he called from," Gibbs explained, keeping to the facts to try and help her deal with it.
She nodded and moved toward the bed, pulling out an Icy Hot patch and sitting on the edge before lifting the side of her tank top. Gibbs sucked in a sharp breath at the deep violet and yellow bruising along her ribs where she put the patch, but bit his tongue to prevent commenting on it. Russell came up when she finished, resting his head on her leg for her to lightly pet him.
"What now?" She asked, lifting her tired gaze to his. "He's just going to keep finding us."
Gibbs let out a soft sigh and sat beside her on the bed, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees. "First… we need to talk."
Morgan winced and looked away, obviously not thrilled by the idea but not outright arguing just yet.
"I understand that you want to handle this yourself," he started. "I know you're strong and he is someone you've dealt with before. I just think that having extra help working with us might end this faster. Before this gets worse than it already is."
"I don't want the team on this," Morgan argued lightly, voice tired but not angry. "I can't… Levi isn't the type to care about what's in his way. Even Russell…" She looked down at the dog who had his eyes shut and was just leaning against her in support. "He would just kill him and toss him aside to get to me. That's the kind of person he is. Murder isn't beyond him."
"And I don't want you getting hurt," Gibbs pressed carefully. "Morgan, I've been there. I know what it's like to not want those around you to get hurt because of you. My own wife—" He cut himself short, throat going tight at the thought of Shannon and his daughter. "... She was like you. She wanted to do what was right and… and she was killed for it."
"He won't kill me," Morgan murmured. "That was never his end goal."
"And maybe that's changed," Gibbs countered. "He was imprisoned. He had time to think."
"He didn't even bring a weapon."
"Because he didn't have to."
Morgan went quiet at that, remembering Levi's laughter when she hit and attacked him in return and nothing seemed to have any effect.
"All I'm saying, is that I'd rather have everyone in on this to get that son of a bitch before he does something stupid. Because he will do something stupid and risky to get to you, and the last thing I want, is for that to happen and no one realize it because we were all afraid of other people being hurt."
Morgan rubbed at Russell's ears. "If they get hurt—"
"It won't be because of you," Gibbs breathed, reaching out and brushing a finger lightly over the cut on her temple. "I'm not trying to be controlling or overprotective. I hope you know that."
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. Yes, I know. You're stubborn. I'm stubborn. We don't want the other getting hurt but I'm not going to be shut away from this, Gibbs," she said firmly, glancing at him. "I know it's a risk but I can't sit back and have other people handle my problems for me, much less when we're in the middle of a case."
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I shouldn't have said what I did before. It was stupid and I didn't mean that. You're important but so is every case we do. I just don't like this situation and what it's turning into."
Morgan scoffed. "Right, because I do?"
Gibbs cracked a small smile, glad to see her able to joke around so soon after their scare, and he lightly grasped her elbow to help her up off the bed. "Come on. We'll head back to headquarters for now. I doubt anyone's gotten any sleep anyway, but at the very least, it'll be harder for him to do anything while we're there."
Morgan sighed quietly but didn't argue as they packed up their things and headed out to where they parked; taking one of the back exits after flashing their badges at the workers in the kitchen to do so. They knew it wouldn't stop Levi from recognizing Gibbs's car but it made them feel a little safer and they needed every reassurance they could get right now.
"My boss looks mad," Courtney muttered when Gibbs, Jenny, and Fornell stepped into MTAC to brief everyone on the team as to what was going on.
"He's going to chew you up," Ziva informed her with a smirk.
"Out," Morgan corrected, making her roll her eyes.
They had bumped into each other early that morning and apologized, both knowing they'd gotten out of hand the day before.
"Maybe not," Tony commented, chin resting on his arms over the back of their seats. "Maybe he's one of those silent killer types."
The team went quiet as Jenny called out to Fornell.
"What do you know about this Eraser?"
"McGee," Fornell said, getting said techie to bring up the images he needed. "Believed to be a Pakistani national raised in India and England. Made his name working with terrorists."
"Clean IDs, easy transit," Gibbs drawled, passing by Morgan and setting an energy drink down for her; knowing she was exhausted after multiple nights of little to no sleep.
"Facilitated Basque terror attacks in Spain, IRA bombings in England. The GIA bombing in France in 1995," Fornell continued as Jenny looked over the file herself.
"Killed eight, wounded hundreds, led by Khaled Kelkal."
"French authorities identified the man who made it possible as Kamal Konkani."
"That's a lot of Ks. Ks are funny," Tony rambled. "Agent Krieger. You ever see The Sunshine Boys?"
"Sh!" Ziva shushed him as the images changed on the screen to photos.
"But they weren't able to put a face to the name before he disappeared off the radar."
"Apparently, he's relocated to Maryland. Upgraded his system for taking people off the grid," Jenny said.
"We were tipped off to Hinton. So, it's possible that Kamal dropped the dime himself to test his work."
"His work seems impeccable."
"Now he's covering his tracks."
"And shopping the service to terrorists overseas," Gibbs added and Jenny nodded.
"I'll monitor the situation in the training camps, watch closely for any movement. I suggest you pick up Kamal's trail on this end."
"No trace, no face. This ought to be easy," Tony said sarcastically as the team began to filter out and Krieger was pulled away by Fornell.
"According to his Interpol bio, Kamal rarely ventures out of his safe house once it is established," Ziva read from the files they were given.
"Style's cloak-and-dagger. Low-tech. No cell phone, no electronic messages."
"Smart."
"He prefers to pass notes," Ziva informed. "The Bureau provided several intercepted by the French 12 years ago, coded. Abby has them now."
"I don't give a flying crap what it states in the handbook!" Fornell's shout came from overhead, drawing their gazes. "You don't know enough to make a decision on your own."
Morgan shook her head and kept walking, carefully navigating the stairs and coming up beside Gibbs, who hooked his elbow through hers. She shot him an annoyed look at the gesture but didn't exactly pull away.
"I'm fine," she grumbled and he cracked a small smile.
"I know. Maybe I just wanted to bug you for a minute."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "We're at work, Gibbs."
"Working. Yup," he replied. "Come on. Let's go see Abby about that tattoo."
Morgan sighed but let him lead her to the elevator, where he pressed a kiss to her temple once the doors closed.
"Let me worry about you for a minute," he breathed, giving her arm a squeeze. "How's the pain?"
"Three," Morgan replied, dropping her hand to place it on Russell's head. "It wasn't a deep gash, you know."
"How many stitches?" He asked, making her huff.
"Fifteen. He didn't even do it. I screwed up and forgot my surroundings. Sliced it on the coffee table we'd shattered in the scuffle." She glanced at him idly as the elevator door opened. "I'll get wood next time."
"Could just move in," Gibbs tempted again as they stepped into Abby's lab where she was talking to Ducky about the tattoo.
"Gonna have to mute you, Duck. Nothing personal."
"No, wait. I-I-It's very pecu—"
She cut him off as Gibbs and Morgan came up beside her.
"You've got something on the tattoo?" He asked.
"It's a work in progress but I did find out something about the notes that the FBI got from Kamal."
"FBI code-breakers couldn't make anything of the language," he pointed out as they moved over to the notes she had on another table
"No. Neither could I. but the paper the notes are written on? It has a curve, so it came off of some sort of spool."
"Cash register receipt," Gibbs noted as Morgan hummed, eyeing the images of the tattoo on screen still with a frown.
"And Major Mass Spec had a field day with these smudges, decided that it's Makki Ki Roti and Sarson Ka Saag," she explained, earning a confused look from them both. "Maize-flour bread and mustard-leaf sauce which goes nice with a glass of lassi."
"Indian food," Morgan realized.
"Punjab, to be specific."
"Kamal likes his home cooking," Gibbs commented.
"Might add to his profile."
"It's good work."
Abby lifted a hand. "Gonna have to mute you, Gibbs. Don't say 'good work.' not until I figure out the riddle of the tattoo."
"Morgan? Thoughts?" Gibbs asked, knowing she had some idea given how she was eyeing the images and Abby perked up too.
"I thought it before but what if it's not an actual design? So much of it is just blotted out black splotches and while fine-line tattoos can blur and change over time, this is excessive." She glanced over at Abby. "Is there a way to look at what was covered up?"
"Look underneath the tattoo?" Abby asked before her eyes went wide and she rushed forward, abruptly grabbing Morgan in a hug. "Oh, my gosh! You're amazing, Morgan!"
"T-Thanks," Morgan croaked out, expression pinched in pain as Gibbs grabbed Abby's shoulder and lightly pried her off.
"Careful, Abs. You'll break her."
Morgan shot him a dirty look at that, wrapping an arm around her ribs as she let out a short, shuddering breath.
"Oh, my God! You're hurt? How!" Abby asked, worried now and Morgan rolled her eyes as Gibbs pulled out an evidence bag from his coat.
"Here. When you can, run this for prints and check it for anything you can to give us an idea of the photographer."
Abby looked at him in concern. "Gibbs? Is this something for the case or…?"
"It's a favor," Gibbs said. "For now. I'll explain it all later. Just let me know if you find anything, okay?"
Abby glanced between them but nodded and offered a salute. "On it."
"Assuming he still likes home cooking, there are fifteen Indian restaurants within a ten-mile radius of Highland Beach," McGee said, bringing up a map in the bullpen.
"Kamal doesn't travel," Gibbs informed him as Fornell nodded.
"Confine the search to walking distance."
"There's only one in the vicinity. Punjab Tandoori."
"Man's gotta eat. We know he's been in the area."
"If he's using the same MO, passing notes, who's he handing them to?" McGee asked as Tony hummed from over his shoulder.
"Any chance he's got people from the old country workin' on this side?"
"Makes that restaurant the perfect place to hang out if he does."
"He won't eat there," Morgan piped up. "Delivery?"
"There's still a chance he might," Fornell said, giving Russell a small frown as he usually did when the dog was around. "We'll keep this one low-key when we go to scope it out."
"Have to go in undercover," Tony pointed out, giving Courtney a look and it wasn't long before the two of them were dressed up and scoping the restaurant while Ziva and McGee waited in the van.
The waiter checked out just fine and they were trying to keep Tony's eyes up on the wait staff, until Courtney accidentally spilled her drink on him. He went to grab napkins, hunched over and the delivery boy ran into him on the way out.
"Didn't get a good look at the delivery boy. Morgan?"
"On it," she huffed, having been standing further up the block, dressed down to avoid detection as a jogger.
She stretched for a moment, eyes searching the sidewalk before spotting the delivery boy and starting up a jog in his direction. She bumped into him, apologizing and helping steady his moped as he scowled.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't break it, did I?" She asked, hearing a snicker in her comms.
"Wow. Didn't know you could sound so concerned."
"It's called acting, McGee. Tony should learn it sometime."
"It's fine. It's okay," the delivery boy said, locking eyes with her for a moment and she offered a nervous smile, holding out her hands to make sure the moped wouldn't tip.
"Sorry again. Really," she apologized, bowing her head and starting to jog off again; her smile falling as she grumbled into her comm. "Did you get it?"
Static crackled in her earpiece and she scowled, leaning up against the building on the corner that she'd ducked behind and pulled it out of her ear. She eyed it in annoyance, reaching up to put it back when a hand grabbed hers and someone's arm wrapped around her waist. She stiffened, starting to twist around but she was stopped as multiple sharp pains rolled through her body.
"Sh," Levi breathed in her ear, crushing the earpiece in her other hand as she sucked in a sharp breath of pain. "Nice of you to join me."
"Y-You son of a—" She choked on her words, grimacing as her breath hitched.
"Careful," he murmured, ignoring the blood slipping past his fingers from the knife he'd pressed into her side. "I'm doing my best to keep this steady. Don't want you to lose anything important."
He twisted the blade slightly and Morgan took a chance.
"Russ—"
He dropped her arm and grabbed her throat, silencing her instantly as he pulled her back toward a red pickup truck he had parked nearby.
"No today, Morgan. We need to have a talk and I'm tired of you running."
He pulled open the trunk and turned her around, pressing her up against it as she tried to paw at the hand he still had wrapped around her throat; starting to turn violet from lack of air. There was barking in the distance and Morgan's gaze weakly shifted as Levi glanced over his shoulder and frowned. He didn't have time for this and ripped the blade from her side—getting a silent choke of pain—before slamming the butt of the handle against her temple. She went slack and he huffed, giving her side a look before checking his watch.
"I've got time," he muttered, lifting her leg and pushing her further into the truck; tossing a plastic sheet over her and heading to the door as a large black dog bolted around the corner.
Russell rushed for the man, snarling dangerously just as Gibbs rounded the corner further behind him. Gibbs's gaze caught on Levi's as the man turned, pistol in hand and Gibbs raised his as panic and rage suddenly flooded through him.
"NCIS! Drop your—"
Levi fired off a shot as Gibbs ducked and there was a sharp yelp. Gibbs poked out from behind the dumpster to fire himself but Levi was already in the truck. Desperately, Gibbs moved out from behind the dumpster completely and emptied his round into the back of the truck as curses spilled from his lips. The truck took off, speeding out of the back alley and Gibbs hurried forward, moving toward Russell on the ground and reaching up to his earpiece as a panting Fornell finally joined him.
"J-Jethro, what the hell—"
"McGee, nearest animal hospital. Now."
"Boss?"
"Now!" He bellowed, looking up the street as he grit his teeth. "And get the team back here immediately. Morgan's just been kidnapped."
Gibbs paced uneasily in MTAC with his phone in hand, waiting for a call from the vet's office as the team waited with him for orders. Jenny finally stepped in with Fornell and gave Gibbs a stern look.
"What happened?"
"What do you think happened?" Gibbs bit out. "We let our guard down."
"Well, I don't know what happened," Fornell pointed out. "What does your agent have to do with this case?"
"Nothing," Jenny informed him. "This is a separate incident that should have been secured before taking your case."
"She refused," Gibbs reminded her. "You know that as well as I do."
Fornell dragged a hand down his face and sank into a chair, waving off the delivery boy waiting in the interrogation room on screen. "Can we get an explanation then? We can only hold this kid for 72 hours and if we want to solve this case and find your missing agent, then we need all the information we can get."
"Gibbs," Jenny said pointedly and he took a deep breath to calm down.
"Morgan has a stalker."
Tony let out an awkward chuckle. "You're joking, right?"
"Tony," Ziva hissed, knowing now wasn't the time for his jokes even if he was trying to ease the tension.
Gibbs waved at the man at the computers getting him to bring up a file full of information on their suspect. "Corporal Levi Cornwall. 45 years old, was arrested and given a restraining order after assaulting Morgan at her home on base."
"Not very accomplished, is he?" Tony mused, eyeing the soldier in the picture as more images were brought up.
"According to Morgan, he followed her nonstop as a recruit," Gibbs explained, looking up and eyeing the bearded man dressed in orange in the mugshot photo. "He would physically assault people to keep them away from her. She confronted him and threatened to contact the superiors."
"Who did nothing, I'm sure," Ziva scoffed, earning a nod.
"So, she requested for a transfer to Fort Bragg," Gibbs said, bringing up what few accomplishments Levi had. "Despite only getting to Corporal, Morgan assured me that he is smart. He knows how to go off-grid and not be found and he easily kept up with her during their training. She went across the country to get away from him and he found her in a matter of weeks, broke into her place, and when she threatened to contact the officers he grabbed her. She subsequently stabbed in and tried to gut him in her living room."
McGee winced as Tony let out a whistle, impressed as Gibbs changed the images to the alley where he'd spotted the man and brought up more.
"He was arrested, she pressed charges and got a restraining order. Then, she got a call before she was taken off medical leave. Her commander at Fort Bragg brought her down there to tell her he'd gotten out of prison on good behavior and proceeded to ditch his parole officer and vanish. Since then, she's gotten phone calls and been sent photos."
"And she was attacked," Ziva noted, remembering her battered appearance earlier. "He found her."
"He was toying with her," Gibbs corrected. "Messing with her PTSD, causing severe paranoia. She was attacked because she let her guard down. I confronted her on it and she refused to be taken off cases or put into protective custody."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course, she wouldn't. She's as bad as you, Gibbs."
"Why not tell us?" McGee asked. "If all this was going on, why not say something earlier?"
"It's Morgan," Jenny said, knowing herself how stubborn the woman was. "She felt it was her problem."
"More than that," Gibbs explained, eyes cold. "She's convinced he would kill anyone in his way. He was after her from the start, but she believes he's that volatile. He wouldn't hesitate. She was even hesitant about Russell being with her."
The group grew solemn as Jenny spoke up.
"How is he?"
Gibbs lifted his phone. "Waiting for a call. They couldn't tell me anything right away but it looked like it was his shoulder."
"So, what's the plan?" Fornell asked, earning a look from Gibbs. "Don't give me that, Jethro. If we have a rogue, violent military grunt just running around kidnapping federal agents, then we're willing to help stop the bastard. The FBI will work with you on this."
Gibbs nodded in gratitude and nodded at the images on screen. "I got the license plate on the pickup truck she was in and a BOLO is already out for it. I emptied a clip into the back, though it didn't do much good."
"Do we have anything else?" Ziva asked. "Any way of locating him?"
"As far as I'm aware, he's a ghost," Gibbs explained, frustrated with the whole thing. "Morgan said she had issues locating him herself and our only way of getting a hold of him was using her. Now that he has her—"
"We're shit outta luck," Tony muttered before there was a knock on the door and Jenny sighed, nodding for it to be opened.
"Gibbs!" Abby chirped, before seeing the tension in the room and hesitating. "Sorry. Am I interrupting?"
"What do you have, Abby?" Gibbs asked, dragging a hand through his hair as she shifted uneasily.
"Um, well, it's not about the case really. Or it is about a case but—"
Gibbs turned to her, feeling a bit of hope. "The photo?"
Abby glanced around at the others but nodded, heading down to where the others were and bringing Gibbs the photo she had. "Is it okay to—"
"Yes, Abby. Morgan's been taken and whatever you found might be a clue to helping us get her," he explained, making her eyes go wide.
"Morgan's been—"
"Abby, please," Jenny cut her off. "Anything you've got."
Abby nodded, expression turning serious as she handed Gibbs the photo. "I checked for fingerprints but there was just yours and Morgans."
"Where's this photo from?" Fornell asked.
"I took Morgan to a hotel last night. Her apartment wasn't safe and she refused to go to my place."
"Well, maybe if you locked your door," Jenny chided him and he rolled his eyes.
"Point is, that was left on a tray of food neither of us ordered within thirty minutes of us being there."
"He was quick," McGee commented as Ziva hummed.
"He followed them from here, probably."
"But Gibbs," Abby cut back in. "How could there only be your fingerprints on it if it was at the hotel? Someone had to put it on the tray, right?"
The others perked up as Gibbs frowned, remembering his conversation with the hotel manager.
"The hotel manager said no one saw him," he muttered, grinding his teeth as realization dawned on him and he started to storm toward the door. "Someone lied."