Gibbs sipped his coffee, nose wrinkling in disgust when he found it was lukewarm. He glanced at his watch and frowned. The coffee had been on his desk for over an hour; he was lucky it had any warmth left at all.
Gibbs sighed, stretching tired muscles. The first flight back from Houston Abby was able to secure for them was the red eye. Landing in Dulles at 6:30 AM he opted to simply head for the office, telling McGee and Ziva to come in until a few hours before Shepard’s plane was due to land. The SecNav was always in by eight, and catching him first thing in the morning seemed like his best shot.
As soon as he’d briefed the man on the case in Houston and their suspicions about Shepard’s involvement and actions the SecNav had called in Deputy Director Vance. Gibbs had been pissed to learn that Vance had already been assigned to look into Shepard’s record. The SecNav had made the same connections Gibbs and LaFiamma had when he’d seen Kort’s name come up. He didn’t believe in coincidences either, and he hadn’t been entirely convinced that Shepard was completely innocent of any wrong doing with regard to Benoit, especially since it was her gun recovered at the scene and positively identified as the weapon which fired the kill shot. She gave a neat justification for its presence saying she’d given the gun to Benoit to defend himself, but the SecNav still had doubts. He said it was a little too pat and he’d never been comfortable with cases that could be tied up so neatly.
“And you didn’t think to tell me you were investigating her?” Gibbs had asked Vance, sarcasm and anger warring for dominance in his voice.
Vance had simply looked at him, expression mild. “After you’d worked so hard to clear her, I wasn’t sure I could trust you with that sort of information.”
“I wasn’t working to clear her.” Gibbs glared at him. “I was trying to solve the case.”
That wasn’t entirely the truth, but being specific when he lied had been one of Gibbs’ rules for a long time. He’d been working to safeguard his team and protect Tony. Ordinarily solving the case would have been the best way to do that. Unfortunately, solving it then would have done nothing but cause trouble for his team. Getting Shepard in the clear had been the only viable option. Gibbs wasn’t about to admit he’d coerced Kort into anything. At least not until he knew doing so wouldn’t implicate his team in any way. In that event, Gibbs was determined to take the brunt of whatever came down. He would protect his people.
When Vance would have argued with Gibbs, the SecNav had held up a hand stopping him. “None of that matters right now, Leon.”
Vance nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Shepard is due back from California tonight. I want her in a room and answering questions as soon her plane touches down.”
Gibbs saw a look pass between Vance and the SecNav. His gut had been screaming at him. They weren’t interested in taking down Shepard. They were more focused on covering the agency’s ass. It was about damage control, not justice. They couldn’t afford to have NCIS look bad, and nothing about any of this was going to put them in a favorable light.
Gibbs’ jaw clenched as he thought about the fact that the SecNav could be planning a cover up. That wasn’t what he wanted, but he was smart enough not to say anything. It wouldn’t do any good. Besides, if he let them know this early in the game that he was on to them, stopping them would be harder to do. It was better if they thought he was clueless.
Gibbs sighed heavily. He couldn’t cast stones in this case. Hell, making sure his team was safe had been what led to this in the first place. If he’d let Fornell make his case, if he hadn’t coerced Kort into lying, none of this would have happened. Shepard would have been in jail and Kort would still be alive.
Of course, had Fornell nailed Shepard, Ziva would have been on a plane back to Israel, McGee would have been shuffled off to another team, and they’d likely have forced Gibbs to retire after they’d gone through every damn case he’d ever worked on. God only knows how they would have handled Abby and Ducky. The only bright spot would be that Tony at least would have been relatively safe in Houston, protected from any repercussions.
Gibbs flipped open his cellphone. He was tempted to call Houston and check on Tony. He’d called once just after they landed. LaFiamma had told him Tony had slept through the night, and was still sleeping. Gibbs would have felt better talking to Tony directly but he knew better than to ask LaFiamma to wake him up.
Tony might be awake by now. He’d probably had lunch and done his breathing exercises. There had been some mumbling about getting out of bed, but Gibbs was sure LaFiamma wouldn’t let him do anything Dr. Kline hadn’t approved.
Gibbs pursed his lips, closing his phone again with a heavy sigh. He wasn’t sure what the hell he’d say to Tony. Tony was trusting Gibbs to take care of Shepard, to make it right, and that was what he’d come to DC to do. As much as he wanted to, Gibbs couldn’t use Tony as a sounding board for his concerns about Vance and the SecNav or ask his help for how to deal with them. Tony had enough to worry about.
Gibbs didn’t think he could talk to Ziva and McGee either. Faith in the chain of command was essential to morale. They’d already lost faith in Shepard. He didn’t want them to lose faith in the entire organization the way Gibbs was rapidly doing. Or for them to lose faith in him.
He checked his watch again. It was noon in LA. He nodded to himself, and hit the speed dial on his phone for Shepard. He was supposed to be keeping her updated on the case. There was nothing wrong with checking in. Maybe he could get her to let something slip again; something concrete he could use to arrest her or something that would make heading off Vance at the pass a viable option. It beat the hell out of doing nothing.
Gibbs frowned when his call went directly to voice mail. He’d ingrained in her the same ‘always be reachable’ rule he had in everyone he worked with. The funeral ended hours ago so Shepard should have been free to talk. He didn’t bother leaving a message.
Having had his own misadventures with electronics, he couldn’t rule out a technical glitch. Not getting her directly didn’t automatically mean she was ignoring his call or had turned her phone off. He checked to see who she’d taken with her as a security detail. Baker and Simmons were hired to replace the agents lost when Paula’s team was killed. They were a little green, both having only achieved full status as agents a year ago. Their team was currently off rotation while their lead was out on maternity leave so using them, despite their lack of experience, made sense.
Gibbs used the office directory to look up their cellphone numbers. He tried Baker first.
“Baker.” She answered crisply, her voice was a husky contralto that suggested she was a heavy smoker at one point in her life.
“Baker, this is Gibbs.”
He could almost hear her swallow nervously. There was the sound of music in the background, something up beat and a lot of voices. Baker wasn’t alone where ever she was.
“I need to speak with Director Shepard.”
“Did you try her phone?”
“Give her yours,” Gibbs growled not bothering to answer the obviously thoughtless question.
“I…I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not with me.”
“She with Simmons then?” Gibbs asked thinking maybe they’d split up for a moment or two.
“No. He’s here with me.”
“What do you mean she’s not with you or him?” Gibbs asked, his voice tightly controlled. “You’re her protection detail, Baker, you and Simmons are supposed to stick with her.”
“Yes, Sir, I know.”
“Don’t call me sir.” Gibbs barked. “If you know your job is to keep her safe why the hell aren’t you doing it?”
“After the funeral, she told us to take the rest of the day.” Baker spoke in a rush. “She wanted to spend some time just relaxing. Alone. And honestly, she looked like she could use a little down time without us hovering.”
“Where the hell is she?” Gibbs demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Well then you better find out.” Gibbs ordered cutting the call before Baker could say anything more. Baker and Simmons should have known better; being green was no excuse. But Gibbs didn’t really blame them for following orders. He knew scuttlebutt around the office had made damn near every agent in the building leery of bucking a direct order from Shepard. More than one rumor had Tony getting fired for not following orders, Lee getting demoted, several others on suspension. It didn’t matter that none of it was true or grossly exaggerated. It still inspired people to cover their own ass rather than go out on a limb.
The ding of the elevator made Gibbs look up. Seeing McGee, Gibbs arched both eyebrows. He wasn’t expecting the other man in for several hours yet.
“What are you doing here, McGee?”
“Tired of waiting.” McGee shrugged. “Thought there might be something I could do here.”
“There is.” Gibbs told him about not being able to reach Shepard and her dismissing her security team after the funeral. The look on McGee’s face told him the younger man was just as worried about what she was doing and why as he was.
“Can you track her phone?”
“On it, Boss.”
McGee went to his desk and started working. Gibbs left him to it, knowing he couldn’t do much to help and hovering over his shoulder would not make him work any faster. Gibbs took his time getting another cup of coffee from the shop down the street. He got one for McGee too, and since he was fairly certain Ziva would be coming in early too, he got her one as well.
He handed Ziva’s hers when she got on the elevator with him. She took it with a small smile.
She looked at the tray in his hand. “Is McGee already in?”
“Yeah.”
“I would have been here sooner, Gibbs, but"“
“You aren’t late, Ziva.” Gibbs shook his head. “Neither of you are supposed to be here at all.”
“Yes, well, sitting at home doing nothing holds little appeal.”
“You were supposed to be sleeping.”
“I am certain I got more sleep than you have.”
Gibbs ignored the concern he could hear in her statement. He’d slept on the plane. A few hours were all he needed. He stepped off the elevator heading for McGee’s desk.
“What have you got for me, McGee?”
“She’s not using her phone, Boss, so I can’t pinpoint her exact location. The best I can do is tell you where she was the last time she used it.”
“Where?”
“She was outside LA.” McGee frowned, leaning in closer to his computer screen. “It looks like the middle of nowhere. What would she be doing there?”
Gibbs fought down the instinctive sarcastic response that first came to mind. Instead he asked, “What’s the address, McGee?”
McGee opened his mouth and then paused, head cocked to one side. “I know that address. Why do I know that?” He quickly typed something else in and nodded to himself. He looked up at Gibbs. “Boss, that’s the address for the diner Decker bought.”
“Why would she be there?” Ziva asked, moving to stand next to Gibbs. “You said he only purchased it a short time ago. I thought it was not even open for business yet.”
“It isn’t.” McGee looked confused. “Decker’s permit to begin renovations was only approved two weeks ago.”
“You said you tracked her down from her last call…who was it to?” Gibbs waited impatiently for McGee to answer.
“It was to us.” McGee cleared his throat. “Well, not us as in me or you, but it was to Abby’s lab.”
“Abby is not there. Shepard knows that.” Ziva frowned.
That didn’t mean the lab was empty. Not sure how long she’d be in Houston, Abby had gotten a replacement to take care of things in her absence. Shepard wouldn’t have authorized her going to Houston if she hadn’t.
“Who is filling in for Abby, McGee?”
“I don’t know, Boss.”
“Ziva, go to Abby’s lab. Find out who’s holding down the fort and what the hell Shepard wanted when she called.”
“Yes, Gibbs.” Ziva whirled and headed for the stairwell. It would be faster than the elevator.
“Who else has Shepard been talking to?”
“I’ll put the log from the past few days up on the plasma.” McGee pointed the remote at the larger screen.
Gibbs studied the numbers from the last two days. There were a number to the office and more than a dozen with the DC area code. Most of those were likely business related. He told McGee to confirm who the numbers belonged to and what Shepard had called them about.
He continued to scan the list looking for any sort of clue as to what Shepard might be doing and why she’d have needed to talk to the tech in Abby’s lab. He pursed his lips as one number suddenly stood out. Late last night about the time they were getting ready to head for the Houston airport there was a call to a number Gibbs knew belonged to a bar in a small town in the Baja area of Mexico. The only person he or Shepard knew there was Mike Franks. Why would she be calling Franks?
Ziva was back before he could give voice to the question. She was not quite breathless but definitely winded which he took as a sign she’d run up the stairs from Abby’s lab.
“The tech in Abby’s lab said Shepard sent a photo she’d taken and asked him to identify the man and woman in it. She called today to see if he had names.” Ziva gestured to McGee. “He said he would e-mail it to you.”
McGee nodded. He tapped a few buttons on his computer and a picture appeared on the plasma screen.
“Who are they?” Gibbs asked.
“The tech did not know.” Ziva shrugged.
Gibbs squinted, staring at the picture. “McGee can you enhance that any?”
“I can try.” McGee’s brows furrowed as he worked. “It is a lousy picture.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Shepard she needs to work on her photography skills when we see her.” Gibbs didn’t bother to curtail the biting sarcasm.
McGee didn’t react. There was a time when he’d have flinched or stuttered out some sort of apology or explanation. Gibbs wasn’t sure if he considered the silence an improvement or not.
McGee shook his head, frown deepening. “There is little I can do to clear this up. She didn’t get much of their faces. There isn’t even a reflective surface I could use. At best I can get the basics...race, height and weight, hair color.”
“Not much to narrow the field,” Ziva clucked her tongue.
Gibbs resisted the urge to cuff the back of her head for stating the obvious. Finding out who these people were didn’t tell them why Shepard wanted to their names. Why had she taken their picture if she didn’t know who they were?
“He’s on his phone.” McGee’s tone was reflective.
“I can see that.” Gibbs looked at McGee waiting for the younger man to tell him why that was significant.
“I may not be able to get his face, but the photo has time it was taken. Shepard should have been at Decker’s funeral at that time. I can check cell towers in the area and see if I can get calls made at that time. I might be able to get his number and use that to get a name.”
“Do it.”
Gibbs cellphone rang. “Gibbs.”
“It’s Baker, Gibbs.”
“You find Shepard.”
“No.” She sighed heavily. “We tracked her rental car to the Santa Monica Pier.”
“And?”
“She’s not here.”
“You called to tell me you still don’t know where she is?” Gibbs almost snarled the question.
“No,” Baker responded her voice tight with an emotion Gibbs couldn’t name, “I called to tell you the LAPD is investigating the body of a woman found nearby. Sasha Gordon. Her purse was in the Director’s car.”
“Who is"“
“She was Decker’s live in girlfriend. We saw her at the funeral.”
“Cause of death?”
“Hard to say since aren’t exactly participating in the investigation, and we weren’t sure if we should draw any attention to the Director’s possible involvement, but it looks like Gordon fell off the pier.”
“Fell or was pushed?” Gibbs muttered more to himself than to Baker.
“I don’t know.” Baker sounded worried and more than a bit lost. Gibbs was reminded that she was still a newbie with very little experience. “Do you want us to talk to the LAPD?”
“No. If they don’t know about Shepard and any link to Gordon, don’t bring it to their attention just yet.” They needed to find Shepard first and the only people he had on the ground were Baker and Simms. He couldn’t afford to have them tied up with the locals.
“What should we do?” The question was almost a plea. Baker wasn’t apologizing for not doing her job, but she was clearly seeking a way to make amends.
“Go to Decker’s place. See if you can find anything there. We’ll keep trying to track Shepard from our end here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Gibbs didn’t bother to reprimand her for calling him ‘sir’. He just hung up on her. “Decker’s girlfriend, Sasha Gordon, is dead.”
Ziva arched an eyebrow. “Another coincidence?”
“Yeah.” Gibbs took a healthy swallow of his coffee.
“I’ve got a name,” McGee called out. “Viggo Drantyev.”
“Ziva.”
“I’m on it.” She headed for her computer.
Gibbs sat as his desk. He had a number for Franks. He’d gotten the man a cellphone during his last visit to the US. He thought it was a bit more subtle than giving him an ankle bracelet for tracking Franks’ whereabouts. He wasn’t sure if the man actually carried it or not, but with nothing else to go on, Gibbs thought it was worth a shot.
He hit the last number on his speed dial menu. He waited while it rang. He grimaced when he got voice mail and the computer message told him the subscriber had not set up the mailbox. He wasn’t surprised. Franks was worse than he was about technology. Hell, Tony had sent up Gibbs’ mailbox for him the first time. He made McGee do it the last time he needed it updated.
Gibbs wrote the number down on a piece of paper. He handed it off to McGee. “See if you can track that one.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“Mike Franks.” Gibbs gave McGee a wry smile. “According to her phone log, Shepard called him last night.”
McGee nodded. He typed something on his keyboard moving with a speed Gibbs found both enviable and vaguely disturbing.
“I can’t get an exact location on it, Boss. He’s not using it right now, but he did make a call from it today.”
“Where?”
“LA.” McGee bit his bottom lip, anxious eyes rising from his screen to meet Gibbs.
Gibbs frowned. Shepard had to have called Franks for back up, but back up for what? And why Franks? Why didn’t she trust her own security detail? The only reason Gibbs could think of was Shepard wanted to cover her own ass and keep the agency out of the loop as much as possible. Dismissing Baker and Simmons gave them plausible deniability, but it still left them accountable for not being there to protect her. That they were following orders would give them a lesser reprimand but they still wouldn’t come away unscathed.
“Gibbs?”
“What do you have, Ziva?”
“Viggo Drantyev did not exist until recently. He flew to DC from Moscow three days ago on what I suspect were fake documents.” Ziva brought up his picture on the plasma. “The quality of the documentation reminds me of others I have seen.”
“That good or bad?”
Concerned dark eyes met his. “It is very reminiscent of the Russian Mafia.”
Gibbs cursed silently. What had Lundy said…‘Pigeons coming home to roost’. The only tie Decker and Shepard had to Russia was the case they’d worked on. Clearly things hadn’t gone as smooth as Gibbs had thought. He should have checked. Damn it. Not that checking would have done any good if Decker was withholding information. He’d have simply lied. And it looked as though Shepard had been lying for years. Gibbs wasn’t sure what made him more angry…that he’d been foolish enough to trust them or that they hadn’t been worthy of it.
Gibbs phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. It was Simmons this time rather than Baker. “What have you got?”
“Decker’s place was trashed.” Simmons’ precise diction and inflection reminded Gibbs of Ducky without the accent.
“Struggle with Gordon?”
“Possible, but it looks more like someone was looking for something than a struggle.” Simmons sounded calm and more assured than Baker had.
“Any clue as to what they were looking for?”
“Negative.” Simmons hesitated for a moment. “What now?”
“Go to this address,” Gibbs gave him the address for Decker’s diner. “That’s where Shepard last used her cellphone. See if you can find anything.”
“Yes, Gibbs.”
“Call me when you get there.” Gibbs hung up. He looked at McGee. “Book us on the next flight to LA.”
To his credit, McGee didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask why or question Gibbs on what prompted his sudden command. He just did as Gibbs ordered.
“You do not think Jenny will be flying back?” Ziva asked quietly. The use of Shepard’s first name and the worried expression made Gibbs pause. Shepard had been a friend once…to both of them.
“I think she’s in over her head,” Gibbs offered gently, trying not to sound as fatalistic as he felt.
Benoit was dead. Kort was dead. Decker and his girlfriend were dead. And Shepard was dying by inches if what Abby had found out was accurate.
Decker’s place had been trashed and the Russian mob was at his funeral. Shepard had dismissed her escort and called in someone from outside the agency who she might still consider trustworthy to act as back up. But Franks was only one man, and he didn’t have much in the way of resources---certainly not as much as the agency could have brought to bear. Gibbs didn’t know if Shepard was trying to put things right or was simply planning on making her last stand, either way it didn’t look good.
“She is going down for the third time,” Ziva murmured sadly.
“Looks that way.” Gibbs patted her shoulder once in sympathy.
He wanted Shepard to pay for her actions, but he hadn’t wanted her to die for them. Gibbs wanted her to at least understand on some level how damn wrong she was, to comprehend how pointless and painful trying to salvage her father’s reputation had been, to acknowledge her own culpability in getting Tony and Lundy hurt, to simply admit she’d fucked up.
“We might be able to get there in time.”
His words sounded empty and hollow to him. They weren’t quite the reassuring platitude he’d been going for, but Gibbs had never been good at those.
Ziva swallowed hard, her expression turning blank. “No, we won’t. It is already too late.”
Gibbs winced, knowing she was right. They were too late…a good ten years too late from the look of it.
Ziva’s smile was sad and bitter when she looked at him. “Whatever was going to happen most probably already has or will soon. We can not stop it.”
Gibbs wanted her to be wrong, but he knew she wasn’t. He took a breath and set himself to see it through.
“You and McGee get your gear together. I’ll brief the Deputy Director.” He would prefer to simply ignore Vance, but he knew that wasn’t an option. If it were just him, he wouldn’t care, but he still had his team think of. He understood enough of the political game to know when a little ass kissing was warranted. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much about any of this he had liked.
“Keep trying her cellphone. Try Franks as well.”
“On it, Boss.”
Gibbs jogged up the stairs to MTAC. He’d call LaFiamma from the plane and let him know what was going on. They were expecting a call once he had Shepard in custody. He hated knowing that what he’d have to tell them wasn’t going to be the good news they were hoping for.
Gibbs wanted to hit something. Anything. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly instead. The rage simply wasn’t useful. Maybe later he’d get the chance to let it out, but for now it had to wait.
Author's Chapter Notes:
More on the case.
Chapter End Notes:
I tried to pull as much from Judgement Day as possible for this part.