The chair next to Tony’s bed wasn’t exactly a great place to sleep, but Gibbs couldn’t complain. He held Tony’s hand through most of the night, reassured and comforted by the warm contact, and the sound of his steady breathing. Having concrete proof the younger man was alive and getting better was worth a stiff neck and aching back.
Gibbs stood and stretched slowly, easing the aches and pains that came with being in the same position for too long. He sighed silently as the kinks worked themselves out. He was really too old for sleeping in chairs.
He looked over toward Lundy’s bed. At some point during the night or in the wee hours of the morning, the blond had moved over far enough to make room for LaFiamma to join him. It probably wasn’t all that comfortable for either man, but neither one seemed to mind. Had it been Shannon, Gibbs wouldn’t have minded either.
The night nurse had been shocked, and then made disapproving noises. The glares from all four men, two of them barely conscious, kept her from saying much of anything. Given the voice she had, Gibbs made a note how much intensity he needed to project in his glare to keep her quiet. It was handy information to have.
Seeing LaFiamma’s eyes open, Gibbs asked quietly, “You want coffee?”
LaFiamma nodded. “Please.”
Gibbs patted Tony’s arm. Not wanting to wake him, but unwilling to simply leave without saying something, Gibbs whispered, “I’ll be back soon.”
He was half way down the hall before he felt his joints starting to work smoothly. Definitely too old to be sleeping in chairs, Gibbs thought, grimacing as he rubbed his lower back. He hoped his stiff neck wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He was fairly confident he could find aspirin or ibuprofen after he had at least one cup of coffee. It was a hospital. Stuff like that should be lying around somewhere.
There were two doctors in the lounge when Gibbs walked in. They looked askance at him. Gibbs ignored them. If they weren’t man enough to ask out loud who he was and how dare he invade their private space, they weren’t anyone he had to justify himself to.
He poured two cups of coffee, leaving his own black while he added cream and sugar to LaFiamma’s. He couldn’t remember exactly how he took it, only that it was similar to the way Tony preferred his. He wasn’t sure he got it right, but he thought he was probably pretty close. He grabbed two extra sugar packets just in case.
He scanned the lounge, hoping for another plate of cookies. The ones he’d taken before weren’t very good, but he was hungry, and hoping for a snack. He frowned, disappointed there was nothing to be had. Hopefully, McGee would have enough sense to bring something edible. If he didn’t, Ducky probably would. The ME worried about all of their diets, Gibbs’ in particular.
Gibbs sighed softly, leaving the lounge. It used to be Tony who bore the brunt of Ducky’s concern. It was one more thing Gibbs had become conscious of changing with Tony’s leaving.
He made it back to Tony's and Lundy’s room with the coffee still steaming. Gibbs nodded to the uniformed cop, tapping lightly on the door before entering. He was pleased to be greeted for a change with only wary curiosity, rather than barely veiled hostility. At this rate, Gibbs thought, he might actually work his way up to being genuinely welcome in another week. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel, so he opted to ignore it.
Gibbs handed LaFiamma his cup. The younger man eyed it for a moment before taking a sip. Seeing his expression, Gibbs handed him the extra sugar packets.
“That crap will kill you.”
LaFiamma smirked, neatly dumping more white powder into his coffee. “If I live long enough for sugar in my coffee to be what does me in, I’ll consider myself a lucky man.”
“Can I have a sip?” Lundy asked, hopeful brown eyes barely open.
“You going to eat your breakfast?”
“Only if you tell me honestly that you would eat it,” Lundy stated.
LaFiamma cocked his head to one side, clearly thinking it over. From what Tony had told him, LaFiamma was very picky about what he was willing to eat. Not so much picky, Gibbs amended mentally; it’s not like the man refused to eat unfamiliar or exotic items, he simply wanted it to be the best ingredients, seasoned well and properly cooked. He might doctor his coffee in a way that Gibbs considered almost sacrilegious, but when it came to food, LaFiamma could easily rival any of the harshest food critics. Having sampled the man’s own cooking ability during his last visit, Gibbs figured the man knew enough about how to prepare food to be good judge of someone else’s efforts.
“One sip.” LaFiamma offered his cup to Lundy.
Lundy shook his head, and pointed to Gibbs’ cup. “Want a sip of his.”
Remembering the two pots in their kitchen, and that Lundy preferred his coffee black, Gibbs wasn’t entirely surprised by the request. He just shrugged and offered Lundy the cup. Since he had LaFiamma’s permission, Gibbs wasn’t about to deny the man something he would kill to have if he were in the same position. Besides, he liked Lundy, and he still felt he owed him one.
Lundy took a sip much smaller than Gibbs would have expected from someone who drank as much or more coffee as he did on a daily basis. Lundy’s eyes closed in obvious satisfaction, a blissful expression on his face.
“Not as good as what I make, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
LaFiamma snorted. “The stuff you make could strip paint off the walls.”
Lundy grinned. “S’how I know it’s good stuff.”
LaFiamma rolled his eyes. “You had your sip, now give it back.”
Lundy shot him a mutinous look, but gave Gibbs his cup back. “Thanks, Gibbs.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, can I have some too?” Tony asked, his voice little more than a hoarse, sleepy whisper. Gibbs hadn’t even noticed he was awake. He mentally smacked himself for not paying more attention.
“See what you started.” LaFiamma shot Lundy a dirty look.
“I didn’t start anything.” Lundy argued back. “Wasn’t me that went and got it.”
“C’mon, Joe.” Tony didn’t quite whine, but he definitely sounded a bit petulant. “It’s just a sip. Please.”
“I’m blaming you, Cowboy.” LaFiamma pointed a finger at Lundy.
“Yeah, yeah. I got big shoulders, I’ll take the blame.” Lundy waved a hand. “Now give the kid a sip already, you know you want to. You can’t resist that pout for more than two seconds on a good day.”
“Like you do any better.” LaFiamma glared at him, but Gibbs could tell he was only doing it to keep from smiling. He offered Tony his cup, holding it steady for him while he took a deep sip. Tony sighed in appreciation.
“Not as good as an espresso.” Tony commented when LaFiamma pulled the cup away.
“Better than nothing.” LaFiamma told him, his tone one of commiseration rather than a chastisement.
“True.”
“You’ll be eating your breakfast too.”
Tony grimaced. “Not if it’s oatmeal.”
Gibbs hid his smile behind his cup, taking a healthy swallow. Tony would sooner starve than eat oatmeal. He wasn’t sure why the younger man hated it so much, but he did. What really made him smile though was how much easier talking seemed to be for Tony. His voice was still rough, and lacked its usual force, but at least he wasn’t gasping for breath, or struggling to speak.
A knock at the door announced the day shift nurse’s arrival. Gibbs remembered her from the day before. Tony didn’t even make a half hearted effort to flirt with the pretty, petite woman. Seeing what she was carrying, Gibbs knew why. The breathing apparatus looked rather innocuous---little more than some plastic tubes with rubber balls inside---but knowing how much pain it had caused Tony in the past, how much pain it would likely cause for the next few days, Gibbs understood Tony’s guarded response.
Both Gibbs and LaFiamma made excuses to step out of the room. Gibbs was sure no one believed them, but then, that wasn’t the point. It was about letting Tony have as much privacy as possible to deal with a decidedly unpleasant experience.
Gibbs saw his team, Dewing and Mendez making their way up the hall. He decided the nurse had good timing. He made a mental note to let her supervisor know. He wondered if commenting on the night nurse would get her transferred before shaking his head. She wasn’t bad at her job, and it wasn’t like she could help the fact that her voice was like hearing nails on a chalkboard.
As his team approached, Gibbs asked brusquely, “What have you got for me, McGee?”
“You know, it might not hurt to tell them how Tony and Levon are doing before you start demanding things.” LaFiamma met his glare easily, expression sardonic. “I mean, if everything was just hunky dory, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in a hospital, would we?”
“Quite right, Joseph,” Ducky told him with a smile. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
LaFiamma shook his head. “Not yet.”
“We brought food,” Abby said, cheerfully holding up several white bags. “There was this really great bagel place just down the street from the hotel. We brought enough for Tony and Levon too. I mean, I know their doctor probably doesn’t want them eating stuff the hospital doesn’t make, but seriously, the stuff a hospital makes just isn’t that good. Not that I’m dissing their cafeteria or anything like that, just you know, mass produced anything isn’t as good as something individually made with attention to--”
“Abby!” Gibbs growled, cutting her off. “I’m sure the bagels will be fine.”
“You haven’t had a full cup of coffee yet, have you?” Abby asked, unfazed by his gruff demeanor.
“We brought coffee, Gibbs,” Ziva said at the same time, holding up a cup carrier tray as though making a peace offering.
Gibbs was tempted to snarl at both of them; his mood wasn’t that dependant on caffeine. He opted for silently taking the cup being offered rather than incur any more ire from Ducky or LaFiamma. He resented the way the both could make him feel guilty without even raising their voices. It wasn’t natural.
Whatever his team brought had to be better than what he’d filched from the doctor’s lounge. They knew how he liked his coffee. He tossed out his other cup. Ziva smiled at him, unaffected by his display of bad temper, when he took a sip with a satisfied sigh.
She offered the tray to LaFiamma. “We got one for you too.”
“That one is yours,” Dewing pointed to a cup with a small dent in the lid. She gave him a teasing wink and a smile. “Got them to add as much sugar and cream as possible and still have it be considered coffee.”
LaFiamma grinned. “Thanks.”
Gibbs was sure Dewing had gotten LaFiamma’s coffee just the way he liked it. Tony said they’d worked together for years. It was hard to imagine her not knowing how he preferred his coffee.
“How’s Tony this morning, Boss?” McGee asked.
“Better.” Gibbs sipped the hot coffee again, savoring the rich, bitter flavor. Perfect. Seeing a demanding look on Ducky’s face, Gibbs realized his one word answer wasn’t really enough.
“He slept through the night. Only woke up a few minutes ago. He’s not in any more pain than yesterday, and he could talk without having to pause between words.”
“That’s definitely an improvement,” Ducky said, beaming. “And how is Levon?”
Dewing and Mendez both looked expectantly at LaFiamma. LaFiamma smiled. “I let him have coffee.”
“Hah.” Dewing lightly slapped Mendez’s shoulder. “Toldja he’d give in the second he thought Lundy was doing better.”
Mendez mournfully shook his head, handing her a dollar. “Damn, LaFiamma, I thought for sure you could hold out for longer.”
LaFiamma rolled his eyes. “No you didn’t, or you’d have bet more.”
“True.” Mendez chuckled. “I did bet more on when he’d try to get out of bed.”
“He’s not getting out of that damn bed until the doctor says he can,” LaFiamma told him with a fierce glare, his tone uncompromising.
Dewing arched an eyebrow. “Admire your optimism, Joey, but you and I both know better.”
“Maybe I should tie him fast.”
“Not sure there’s enough rope to hold Lundy,” Mendez said with a smirk. “And you don’t know enough knots, LaFiamma, to keep him busy for very long.”
LaFiamma sighed. “Damn cowboys and their stupid rope tricks.”
“Better than a sailor when it comes to knots.” Dewing said with shrug. “So, ah…why are you not in there?” She pointed to Tony and Lundy’s room.
“Morning rounds, and Tony’s doing his breathing exercises.”
“Ah.”
Abby, Ziva, and McGee all winced. Ducky simply looked sympathetic. Dewing and Mendez just nodded their understanding, neutral expressions giving away as much as the reactions of Gibbs’ team had.
The nurse left a moment later. She smiled warmly at them. “You can go back in. I gave Officer DiNozzo a little something for the pain so don’t be surprised if he nods off.”
Gibbs almost corrected her, biting his tongue to keep from saying it was “Agent DiNozzo”. She wasn’t wrong; Tony was a cop, not an agent any more.
“He didn’t fight you on the drugs?” LaFiamma asked before Gibbs could.
“We went a little longer with this session,” she said as if that explained everything, and Gibbs realized it did.
“What about Lundy?” Dewing asked. “He need anything for pain?”
The nurse hesitated a moment before answering. “He wasn’t in any obvious distress, but from what I’ve seen in his medical history, Sergeant Lundy rarely shows much evidence of pain.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” LaFiamma muttered. “Man could be missing a limb and still tell you he was fine.”
The nurse continued, either ignoring LaFiamma, or simply not hearing his quiet comment. “I offered him something just to be on the safe side.”
“He take it?” LaFiamma asked.
She nodded. “I thought he was going to say no, but he agreed, although he asked for a half dose. I don’t think he was really in pain, uncomfortable maybe, but--”
“That’s okay,” LaFiamma told her. “I get it.”
Gibbs raised both eyebrows. Given how often he’d heard Lundy refuse just in the past two days, he was genuinely surprised by what she said. “Why would he"“
“Because then Tony wouldn’t feel bad about taking his,” LaFiamma answered him.
“Leading by example,” Ducky murmured.
“More like misery loves company,” LaFiamma said with a quick grin. “And those two are good at keeping each other company.”
LaFiamma headed for the door. “C’mon. If they’re going to eat breakfast, it better be now. Whatever she gave them will probably have both of them spaced out or sleeping in ten minutes.”
Gibbs let the others file into the room before him. While they greeted each other, handed out food and made small talk, Gibbs found himself just observing everyone. Abby’s bright and bubbly personality was a sharp counterpoint to Ziva’s quiet reserve. Ducky’s gentle questions and respectful stance reminded him of a kindly grandfather type, and Gibbs suspected everyone in the room saw him that way. McGee was friendly, not overly outgoing, but not hiding or stuttering. He was obviously comfortable enough with everyone in the room to behave more or less normally.
Dewing and Mendez seemed at ease. Gibbs hadn’t spent much time with either one, but he knew them well enough to know they didn’t have any blatant nervous gestures or habits. They seemed content to be able to interact with their teammates and each other while everyone consumed breakfast. They didn’t engage Gibbs’ team, or give lengthy responses to any conversational gambits made by them, but they didn’t outright ignore them either. Not quite one big happy family, Gibbs thought, but at least they weren’t the Hatfields and McCoys, either.
LaFiamma had positioned himself so he was between Lundy's and Tony’s bed. It was a place no one challenged him for. He and Tony were practically brothers, and his relationship with Lundy---whether everyone in the room realized they were lovers or not"was such that no one would question his need to stay close. Gibbs noticed LaFiamma reaching out to touch Lundy several times. It might have drawn more attention if he didn’t touch Tony almost as often.
Gibbs realized that LaFiamma probably used touch as a way of making sure those he cared about knew he cared. It was also a way for him to reassure himself they were okay. Gibbs could understand that. Abby was a hugger for the same reason. It let her comfort and be comforted at the same time.
Tony didn’t say much, which was unusual for him, and would have been worrisome if Gibbs hadn’t known about his earlier breathing exercises, and having taken pain medication. It was better that Tony didn't overtax himself by trying to participate as he usually did. He was doing better, but he was still recovering. And it wasn’t really necessary for him to do more than say a few words, nod occasionally, or shake his head. The others seemed content with whatever input he had to offer.
Lundy and LaFiamma bickered lightheartedly, drawing in Dewing and Mendez. Gibbs could see some envy in McGee’s eyes, and looked away. He wasn’t the only one who’d missed the banter and teasing that had once been a part of their team.
By the time they’d finished breakfast and were ready to focus on the case, Tony had dozed off, snoring quietly, and Lundy looked to be fading. Gibbs considered taking the discussion outside, but dismissed the idea. He wasn’t sure the others would agree, and more importantly, sudden silence might wake Tony. He needed the rest, and Gibbs knew he’d rest easier with people around him. That was one thing that hadn’t changed.
“What have you got for us, McGee?” Gibbs asked as the remnants of their light meal were discarded.
“I gave the autopsy report on Decker to Ducky as soon as it came in.”
Gibbs shifted his focus to the ME. “Duck?”
“It is hard to tell conclusively from the report, but I do think it is possible he did not die of natural causes.” Ducky held up what had to be the autopsy folder. “Decker was essentially a healthy man. There was no history of heart disease, or any indication of blockage. While it is possible for the heart to simple cease to function, in such cases it is usually a congenital abnormality that is the underlying cause. The coroner in LA didn’t make notes regarding any test to verify whether that might have been the case or not. He did do a standard blood test, which was negative for drugs and most conventional poisons.” Ducky frowned. “I can’t fathom why he wouldn’t look further.”
“Overworked.” Dewing suggested.
“Underpaid.” Mendez tossed out.
“Incompetent.” Ziva offered.
“Lazy.” Abby countered.
“Enough.” Gibbs held up a hand. “All we know is that we don’t know what killed him.”
“This Decker was retired, right?” Dewing asked, looking at McGee for confirmation. That she wasn’t asking how any of this related to their case made Gibbs conclude LaFiamma had filled in his team at some point---probably when he’d stepped out of the room last night to stretch his legs, and get a snack from the vending machine.
“Left NCIS a few years ago.” McGee said. Gibbs hid a pleased smile when McGee rattled off the actual date and time Decker retired. Attention to detail was never a bad thing.
“So why would someone want to kill him now?” she asked.
“He was the lead on the case Shepard and I worked in Europe almost ten years ago,” Gibbs told her. “The alias she used when she spoke with Nunes was the same one she used then.”
“You’re thinking it’s not a coincidence?” Mendez asked.
“No such thing,” Gibbs told him. He saw the others nod in agreement.
LaFiamma grimaced. “Question is, was he involved in our little clusterfuck, or is he just collateral damage because he had an old link to Shepard.”
If it was the latter, for all Gibbs knew, he might well be next. He looked at McGee. “Did you find anything on Decker to suggest he might have been directly involved?”
“No.” McGee shook his head. “He hasn’t done anything even remotely suspicious since leaving NCIS. Not even so much as a parking ticket. Financial records were clean. No unexplained deposits. The only big expense he’s incurred in the last six months was buying some real estate out in the desert. It was an old diner that he apparently had plans to renovate and reopen. Friends and hobbies all checked out. There was nothing to suggest he was doing anything but enjoying his retirement.”
“You get the case file I asked you to track down?”
“I thought I had…but it turns out the file was mislabeled. The clerks sent the wrong one. I found out the other doesn’t exist any more.”
Gibbs frowned. “Why not?”
“It was destroyed.”
“When?”
Not long after Shepard became director.”
“She pick that one on purpose?” Dewing asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I don’t think so,” McGee shook his head. “There were a lot of old records destroyed around that time because there was a malfunction in the sprinkler system in the archive facility. It flooded and no one knew about it for at least a month.”
“I remember that,” Abby said, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “It was all old stuff they’d been warehousing for forever. I helped them out a few days trying to scan anything we could save. Transferred as much as we could from hard copy to digital format. But mold, mildew and water damage did a number to a lot. Anything we couldn’t salvage we shredded and burned.”
That was just great. Gibbs wanted to punch the wall. He settled for throwing away his empty coffee cup with more force than necessary.
“What do you remember about that case, Gibbs?” Ziva asked.
He filled them in on as much as he could remember. It was a long time ago, and he wasn’t entirely sure if everything he remembered was accurate. After things went sour between him and Shepard, there was a lot he made a point to forget. He’d wanted the file to review, not just to refresh his memory, but to find out if there were things Decker had kept from him that he might have shared with Shepard.
Things hadn’t gone smooth. They were both new to that sort of operation. But at the time they had been sure they’d gotten away clean. Gibbs wasn’t so confident now that was the case.
Lining out his doubts, he also included what LaFiamma had uncovered about the CIA involvement. No one had to speculate on Shepard’s reason for volunteering to work the case once he finished.
“I’m decidedly disappointed to find La Grenouille coming to the fore yet again.” Ducky made a moue of distaste.
Gibbs could relate. He was disappointed in himself for misreading Shepard so badly, and he was seriously pissed at her for everything she’d done. Anger he knew what to do with. He decided to focus on that. He’d deal with his disappointment and guilt later.
“You said there were problems.” Ziva looked at him. “But you were a sniper, so you shouldn’t have had any trouble taking out your target.”
“I didn’t.” Gibbs scowled. “Problems came after.”
“Did Shepard eliminate her target?” Ziva queried curiously, eyes on Gibbs.
Gibbs stifled a sigh. Ziva had worked with Shepard, but the woman she knew wasn’t the same one Gibbs had worked with. Shepard wasn’t as hard then as she was now---or he hadn’t thought so.
“She said she did.”
LaFiamma arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t confirm it?”
Gibbs glared at him. At the time, she was his partner, and they’d had to get out fast. He hadn’t questioned any further, accepting what she told him, and letting it go. He thought she was professional enough to get the job done.
“I’ll take that as a no.” LaFiamma sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“Sounds like it could be pigeons coming home to roost,” Lundy said quietly.
“Do you ever really sleep?” Gibbs asked, annoyed to be surprised yet again by the blond being awake when Gibbs thought he was asleep.
Lundy chuckled. “I like playing possum.”
“You like pretending to be a marsupial?” Ziva asked, brow furrowed in confusion. McGee nearly choked on his coffee at her question.
“I’ll let Tony explain it to you when he wakes up,” Lundy grinned, and then sobered. “Here’s how I see it….Shepard spent ten years working to bring down Benoit. We’ll probably never be able to confirm it, but the case you worked on together was likely the start of her vendetta, or close to it.”
Dewing spoke quietly, interrupting him for a moment. “That’s one determined woman.”
Gibbs had to agree. Under other circumstances he might have admired her resolve and dedication.
“Once she put a bullet in Benoit,” Lundy continued, “she needs to shore up the lie that will keep his death labeled suicide, and not murder. For one thing, it keeps her ass out of jail, and for another, if she couldn’t prove her daddy’s innocence, she could at least see to it that his killer’s death goes down the same way he had. Poetic justice, balance the scale and all that.”
Mendez snorted derisively. Dewing rolled her eyes in disgust. McGee and Abby seemed to share her opinion. Gibbs could tell from Ducky's and LaFiamma’s expressions that they at least appreciated the sentiment, if not the act. He couldn’t read Ziva at all.
“Keeping the lie in place forces her into bed with the CIA again. Doesn’t hurt that they have a carrot to offer.”
Abby looked puzzled. “What carrot?”
“They had a file on her father,” LaFiamma told her.
“Any idea what’s in it?”
“Nope.”
Lundy cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “So the CIA uses her to take out Kort, keeping their hands clean in the process. All the lies stand about how Benoit died, and she gets to keep whatever dirt they have on her daddy hidden. Don’t know for sure without asking her, but she probably justified to herself that setting up Kort was a way of taking care of a rogue agent. More likely it was just spite. He helped the man she thinks killed her father, and thwarted her efforts to bring him down. Thinking that might be reason enough for her to want him dead, even without the carrot from the CIA to entice her.”
Gibbs wondered if money might not have sweetened the deal. They still hadn’t pinned down where the money Shepard paid her doctor had come from. He preferred to think of her as motivated by hate rather than greed. Although, her using the money to pay for treatment of her terminal illness might be more accurately attributed to desperation than greed. Regardless of why she took the money or what she did with it, Gibbs still found the idea of being paid to betray another agent offensive.
Lundy sighed and shifted restlessly on his bed, drawing Gibbs attention back to the matter at hand. “She resurrects an old alias to take out Kort. Guessing it was faster and easier than coming up with something new. Might be, the CIA even suggested it. They know about the unfinished business from ten years ago, because they were involved when it went down. Her using that alias means they got a way of taking out Shepard already in place. I’m guessing there is someone waiting in the wings who has a score to settle.”
“And whoever that is, took out Decker?” LaFiamma posited.
“It’s possible,” Lundy shrugged. “I doubt the CIA would give up Shepard directly. They wouldn’t want anything to come back and bite them on the ass. So they’d have offered a trail for someone to follow. It’s the way they are. Secrets and lies are SOP for them.”
“True.”
“Decker was someone who knew the link between Shepard’s real name and her alias.”
“He wasn’t just a link to Shepard,” Dewing pointed out. “He was lead on the case, so he’d have a link to Gibbs. And it was Gibbs who got the job done, so maybe that’s what they’re pissed about. Shepard could just be a means to an end, and not who they are really after.” She looked pointedly at Gibbs.
Abby gasped, eyes widening in a telltale sign of rising panic. “Gibbs, we have to stop these people. You could be next. And that’s just not acceptable. We lost Kate. And we’ve almost lost Tony more times than I want to think about. He’s not on the team any more now and we can’t protect him. Not that his new team aren’t good people. They are. But so are we. And you’re the best. We need...This isn’t…Nothing is supposed to happen to you--”
“Abby, calm down.” Gibbs ordered firmly, knowing he had to shut her down fast before she got worked up any more. “You won’t lose me.”
“But Gibbs"“
“Breathe.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and releasing it slowly. She opened her eyes, looking sheepishly around the room. “Right. Sorry. Lost my head for a minute.”
“It’s all right.” Gibbs smiled gently at her when she looked at him again. He understood. The brutal reality of their jobs had really hit home for Abby when Kate was killed. Her death had been devastating for all of them. It was something he sometimes wondered if any of them had ever truly gotten over. Her death was never discussed. Much the same way Gibbs getting caught in an explosion and then leaving for Mexico had never been really talked about. Or his having gotten shot by Ari. Or his drowning with Maddie Tyler. They never mentioned the many ways Tony had nearly been killed, or the reasons for his leaving NCIS. Gibbs hid a grimace. They had enough crap to keep a shrink busy for years.
Silence reigned for several minutes until LaFiamma asked, “What do you want to do?”
“It’s all conjecture.” Gibbs nearly ground his teeth in frustration. “We don’t have any real proof.”
“Nope.” LaFiamma agreed.
“Best way to get some would be to bring Shepard in.”
“Yeah.”
Gibbs’ jaw clenched. He’d prefer to have more concrete evidence in hand. He didn’t want to interrogate her. He wanted to beat her senseless. They had enough to charge her. Not enough to make anything stick, but enough to have the right to question her. He couldn’t issue a warrant for her arrest. What they had might be enough for anyone else, but she was the director of a federal agency. No judge in his right mind would sign a warrant based on what they had.
Gibbs squared his shoulders. They’d have to make do. “McGee, you said Shepard was going to Decker’s funeral?”
“Yes, Boss.” McGee confirmed. “Her flight should be landing just about now.”
“When is she due back?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Better to arrest her in LA or DC?” LaFiamma asked.
“DC.”
Gibbs knew people in the LA office, but wasn’t sure if he could trust them with something like this. They’d be putting their careers on the line. It was better to have it out with Shepard on home turf. He had more resources there.
Worst case scenario he could call on Fornell. Benoit’s death was originally an FBI case. He’d be pissed at Gibbs’ interference, and would no doubt make him pay for it somehow, but with FBI involvement, they stood a better chance of bringing Shepard to justice.
“Abby can you book flight back to DC for me, Ziva and McGee? I want to be there at least twelve hours before Shepard is due back.” That would give him time to brief the SecNav in person, and get everything in order.
“What about me and Ducky?”
“I want you to stay here with Tony.”
This way Tony would know he hadn’t been abandoned, and it would also keep them out of the line of fire if things turned nasty in DC. LaFiamma and his team would look after them. He would prefer to leave Ziva and McGee as well, but while McGee had been accepted and was trusted on some level by Tony’s team, the same couldn’t be said for Ziva. Leaving her behind would help no one, and Gibbs knew he’d need back up. He trusted his people implicitly.
“Your people going to be okay handling the CIA?” Gibbs hadn’t forgotten they were due to arrive if they hadn’t already.
“We’ll be fine,” LaFiamma grinned. “Making other people’s lives miserable is something of a hobby for us.”
Gibbs fought off a smile. “What about Nunes?”
“Between us and the DEA, he’s not going anywhere any time soon, no matter what.”
“Kort’s girlfriend?”
“We’ll hold her as long as we can.”
Gibbs nodded. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Ziva, McGee, with me.” They could pack up at the hotel while he grabbed a hot shower that would hopefully work out the remaining kinks in his back. “Abby call me as soon as you’ve got us booked.”
“Will do, Bossman.”
If they were lucky, there would be enough time to say a proper good-bye to Tony…or more accurately ‘see you soon’ because Gibbs planned to be back as soon as possible. He wanted to be there for Tony, the way he hadn’t been the last time Tony needed him. He wanted to be there for Tony as long as he needed him to be.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.