Chapter 6
Mike pulled into the evidence garage at the Navy Yard and went to the back of the van. “Ready?” he called before knocking on the doors, knowing that his agents had locked it from the inside. The ride had been quick and everything had been quiet back there, but Mike was always ready for anything.
“All clear, Boss,” Tim called out, as he got up from his crouched position. Seeing Ziva do the same, he added, “We’re ready in here.” Clicking the lock to the unlocked position, he waited from Franks to open the door.
Moving to the suspect, Ziva grabbed him under the arm to help him stand. Once he was on his own two feet, she moved behind him to take the rear position.
Jet crouched in the van when he was encouraged to stand up by the woman. He considered the possibilities for an escape and discarded them. He was outnumbered and could probably disarm one but not all. And the guy outside sounded like a tough customer.
He tested his knee, moving it gingerly, trying to act like he was getting the kinks out.
Mike threw the door open and then backed off, gun at the ready.
“Ah, the welcoming committee. Take it he’s the boss?” Jet asked, tossing that back to the woman behind him.
“You have assumed correctly. Now exit the van slowly. No sudden moves or my finger on the trigger may just echo the swiftness, yes?
He chuckled and shook his head. “Your captain will have your ass if you shoot a cuffed suspect in the back and we both know it, so you can give that scare tactic up.” And the chances were he could disarm her with one well-placed kick, though he wouldn’t take his chances. He could be a bit reckless but he wasn’t suicidal and three-against-one odds in what looked to be a garage of some sort…
It’d lead to his death.
“Ah, but he is not my boss, you see, as I am a liaison officer. And my gun is not my only option for a weapon, of which I am sure you are aware. So shooting a restrained suspect is not my only venue. If you wish to remain alive and whole, please proceed to the rear of the van. I would hate to have to explain to Abby why I had to injure you.”
“Hand to hand combat,” he agreed, acknowledging the prowess he was sure she had. “Yes, ma’am,” he added seriously, no BS, no sarcasm. Outside of riling her up he’d treat her like the warrior he was sure she was, giving her a level of respect Baby Face hadn’t earned.
“Good, now proceed to the exit, if you don’t mind,” she finished, gesturing with her gun, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement of similar experiences in their pasts, experiences that made them comrades of sorts.
“Get out slow and easy.” The guy had a gravelly voice, one that rang bells in the depths of Jet’s memory. He stepped down with a lot more grace than he’d been tossed in and took a good hard look at the man. It all clicked into place and he blinked a few times, momentarily shocked.
“Special Agent Mike Franks, I’m with…”
“NCIS,” Jet supplied.
“Boss?” Tim asked slowly. “What’s going on? How do you know who we are?” he asked, this time addressing the suspect, keeping his gun trained on him. Though he guessed he was overreacting, Tim couldn’t help all the alarms that were going off in his head. There was something about this guy that convinced him to keep his guard up. Tim just hoped that Tony could convince Abby to do the same by the time they got back and joined them.
Mike shrugged, scrutinizing the guy. Blue eyes, silver hair, forties, lean body, expensive clothes. Nothing stood out, though the air crackled with energy around him. This guy was constantly in the ready position. And there was something about his eyes that dragged Mike’s attention back, the whisper of a memory tickling his brain. He’d seen this man before, he was sure of it.
“Answer him,” Mike said, pointing to McGee but keeping his weapon trained on the guy for an endless moment.
The guy gestured toward one of the vans. “I can read. NCIS. Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Think I committed a crime against a squid? I didn’t.”
“We’ll see.” Mike jerked his head toward Ziva. “Interrogation room One. With me, McGee.”
~*~
Tony had gotten himself a coffee and Abby a gallon of Caf-Pow at a convenience store. She’d been hitting buttons on the radio for the entire ride, finding and zooming past a bunch of channels. He’d forgotten they were in the NCIS-issue cars and he didn’t have the CDs. She’d barely said a word as he drove through the quiet streets to the Navy Yard.
“Abby…” he began and then trailed off.
Even the Caf-Pow wasn’t settling her. Normally, as strange as it sounded, the Caf-Pow helped to settle her, to focus her mind. It was failing her now, since all she could think of was the few brief moments she had with the suspect, with Jet. His touch, his lips, his taste.
Hearing Tony calling her name, she turned in her seat towards him. “Yeah, Tony?” she asked, knowing their relationship was a bit shaky at the moment.
“I’m sorry,” he said, genuine remorse in his voice. “I’m just real worried about you. I’ve never seen you like this over a guy and that one screams danger, like Jason or Freddy or Chuckie kind of danger.”
He pulled up to a red light and squeezed her hand. “Even if he wasn’t a suspect, I’d be worried. There is something almost wild animal about that guy, Abby.”
Turning her hand over, she grabbed his. Looking down at their joined hands, Abby said, “I know, Tony. I know you’re worried about me. And I appreciate it. I really do. But please, do you really think that guy is dangerous like scary movie dangerous? Do you think he’s going to come after me with a chainsaw and hack me to pieces in my lab? Tony, you’ve been watching way too many movies alone. We need to have a movie night again soon. When was the last one? Christmas Eve?”
“Does it matter?” Tony shot back. “Dead is dead, Abbs.” He pulled into his assigned parking space and gestured her out of the car. “Your lab and then interrogation. You need to change. That dress is too…” He smirked. “If we weren’t best friends, you’d be in trouble, Abby. You’re hotter than Jen and Angelina put together.”
“Yes, it does matter. Because he isn’t a murderer. He may be many things, he may be dangerous, but he isn’t a murderer any more than you and Mike are.” Getting out of the car, she came around and waited for Tony to catch up with her. Posing and preening for him, she asked, “Do you think I’m sexy, Tony?
Tony swallowed hard. Did she not know how sexy he found her? “Yeah, Abbs. If you showed a hint of interest, I’d jump you right now and you’d see just how sexy I find you.”
She was usually his Abbs, his little sister, but in that dress with her hair swept up and the makeup so perfect, he was completely attracted. He could almost forget she was a little sister to him.
“Tony! You are a dork sometimes. I know you don’t think of me as anything more than your sister. If you’re attracted to me, it’s one of two things. One, it’s really good you don’t have a real sister.” She snorted. “Or two, you’re only intrigued with me because I represent a mystery, something that you haven’t accomplished yet. Since I know you pretty well, I’m gonna guess it’s the second option.”
“Or three, you’ve dated or said everyone else on the team is worth your time but not me. And it kinda bugs me, okay?” Tony retorted. Ziva made fun of his taste in women and his dating history, but Tony knew he and Abby had a much tighter bond.
“You don’t need to be so jealous, Tony. Of course you’re worth my time; you’re worth more than my time. Yeah, we’ve never dated. Yeah, we’ve never kissed. But that doesn’t mean to don’t find you way sexy ‘cause I do.”
“You do?” he asked, perking up, chest puffing out a little. “Like Brad Pitt sexy, or Daniel Craig sexy or like your best friend that you don’t wanna insult who is kind of cute but you’d never swap spit with type? Or like Halle Berry’s husband, all pretty but nobody knows anything about him. Or like Tom Cruise kind of creepy sexy? Or like Hugh Jackman sexy?” He knew his voice sounded hopeful when he hit Hugh Jackman.
“Even though he’s way older than I am.”
“Oh definitely Hugh Jackman. There’s no question about it. Rugged, tall, handsome. You’re even hairy like he is. My own little Wolverine.”
“Uh, great. I was thinking like Australia Hugh or even Van Helsing Hugh, but you pick the supernatural Hugh, which is great in an X men kinda way but Abbs, he is really hairy there. I’m not that hairy and you know it.”
But how would she know. It wasn’t as if she’d seen him nude or anything. And Ziva hadn’t talked, had she? Kate hadn’t seen much, at least he didn’t think so. Unless when they were all showering after he’d unleashed the plague…
“Who said I’m hairy?”
“Hello! I have the video feed from when you were undercover with Ziva. Really undercover! Even Mike knows how hairy you are! Besides, Ziva’s my friend, Tony, and we do have girls’ night out. Movies, popcorn, chocolate " of course " and talking. LOTS of talking. And of course, she did rate your butt and Tim’s butt. Tim told me.”
Tapping her chin with her finger, she pretended to consider, “Now, which Hugh…I haven’t seen ‘Australia,’ so I have no reference there. And you don’t have the hair, on your head that is, or the big coat for Van Helsing Hugh. Since you don’t like the Wolverine Hugh, what about the Kate and Leopold Hugh? Suave, handsome, a gentleman, though a little odd with his clothes. Sounds pretty good, right?”
“I’m not hairy,” he insisted. Okay, his chest was kind of but not the rest of his body. Not his back and his butt. “I’m not so bad, Abby. I look like a guy, okay?” He bit him lip and thought about Kate and Leopold Hugh Jackman. “Suave, handsome, fish out of water who adjusted okay in the end? Yeah, I think I can live with that.”
“You look beautiful in that outfit,” he told her in utter seriousness. “Maybe it is the illusion but Abby….my god… You could be a Bond girl in that getup. And even if I don’t want to date you…I could do other naughty things to you when you look like that.”
Even though his words were honest, Tony knew he had to diffuse the tension, so he winked at her and looked her up and down. “And I thought Marilyn was hot. This is even hotter, Abbs. It’s you this time.”
Rolling her eyes, she twirled around. “Really, Mr. Bond? What kind of naughty things?” She knew they were just playing, knew that in the end they really weren’t serious. But it helped, teasing and flirting like this helped to ease the stress of the evening, the strain of her interaction with the suspect.
“Like Halle Berry in that scene where she steps out of the water sexy,” he said in his best Connery Bond voice. “Like Kim Bassinger in Never Say Never Again. Like Ursula Andress in Goldfinger, hot, Abbs.”
He swallowed hard, realizing they were getting a little beyond casual teasing. “Like if you weren’t so confused and this wasn’t all screwed up, I’d kiss you, and I’d take you to bed. As Bond or Tony.”
He gulped again. “That’s why we have to get to the lab and you changed. Because if I’m thinking that, every other red-blooded male is thinking the same thing and I don’t want to have to kill McGee and Mike.”
“Anthony DiNozzo, some day you’re going to run out of movie references. I wonder what you’ll do then. But you still do a great Bond.” She blushed under his scrutiny. “All right Tony. I get it. I need to dress like this with caution. ‘Cause, I seem to keep causing problems tonight. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll head to the lab, and you go check in with Mike. We’ll meet somewhere in the middle.”
“Never. There is a movie for everything, Abby. And I’ve seen most of ‘em.” He grinned when she said he did a great Bond. Sean Connery’s Bond was one of his heroes. Always suave, always sophisticated, a killer with the ladies. And the adventures he had in exotic places.
“But there are still a few you haven’t seen, Tony. We’ll find them and have a movie night of it. What do you think? When this is all over?”
He gave Abby a kiss on the forehead, backtracking to her other statement. “I’ll be in the bullpen. Find me there. We’ll go to interrogation together.” More like the firing squad was the way he was looking at it. “Meet me up there when you’re ready, capiche?”
Leaning into his kiss, she replied, “Right. When it’s time for the interrogation, I’ll come to the bullpen. Capiche, DiNozzo.” But for the prints, Tony, I’ll be doing them by myself. I have to figure out what this is between Jet and me. And I can’t do that with you hovering, ready to fire a gun if he some much as looks at me wrong.
“You’ve got it, Abbs. You bring the gumbo and I’ll bring the beer and movies. You see Kung-Fu Panda yet? Or Bolt? How about Body of Lies? I bet you had a huge crush on DiCaprio back in the day.”
“Ha, I bet you did too,” she teased. “We’ll need to choose a theme. Get a bunch of movies like that. Like, if you wanna do cartoons, Kung-Fu Panda and Bolt would work. Or if you wanna do more intrigue, Body of Lies and maybe some Hitchcock thrown in?”
Tony laughed, shaking his head. “Kate Winslet was kinda hot. Now Russell Crowe in Gladiator rather than Body of Lies. He looks old and fat in Body of Lies, even though he looks pretty decent regularly.” Tony never turned down Hitchcock and he grinned. “You’re staying over. Cartoons and Pop Tarts the next morning, pizza, adventure and suspense and air-popped corn the night before. Just tell me when and I’ll make it happen.”
“No on the Pop-Tarts, Tony. I’m thinking Mickey Mouse pancakes with chocolate chips eyes and smiles. How’s that? As soon as all this dies down, we’re doing it? You, me, junk food and movies. Sounds great.” She gave him a genuine smile then, always loving their dorky time together more than anything else.
“Yeah, we’ll do it,” Tony agreed, giving her a gentle smile. “Like that. You and me acting like overgrown kids. Will be fun. “And a break from what was going on here. “Though Probie and Ziva think I always act like a kid, or a fratboy.”
It was a delicate issue and one he didn’t usually bring up. He shouldn’t now, so he just shrugged. “Movies and my best friend. Sounds pretty incredible to me.” And Tony had a sinking feeling everything was about to change.
“I can’t wait, Tony. Nights like that are some of my favorites. Plus, it’s a great stress reliever, getting to act like kids. Takes my mind off of real life for awhile.” Shaking her head, she added. “Well, I know you’re no fratboy, Tony. You’re much more than the joking, prankster façade you show in the bullpen. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with acting like a kid, so says the girl with the pigtails,” she declared.
He tugged on one, giving her a small smile. “Don’t change, Abbs, okay?” he knew he was being silly and stupid but he felt deep down inside that he was losing her. That tonight had changed everything and not for the better. But he wouldn’t say anything.
They were getting back on even and comfortable footing and Tony realized that was what they both needed. “No interrogating him without me, Abbs.”
“I know, Tony. I know,” she responded. “You’ll be behind the mirror and Mike’ll be in the room. I won’t be alone in the interrogation room. I don’t even think I’ll be an actual part of the interrogation. Mike’ll do it. I’m just supposed to be there to put him off balance.”
There was some sort of glimmer in her eyes but he brushed it off, nodding. “Yeah. Just don’t let Mike manipulate the situation too much, okay? You’re not a pawn in his chess game.” Their boss was old school, old style, and he’d been known to twist a situation to his advantage. And sometimes people got hurt. This time it would not be Abby. Tony wasn’t above complaining to Morrow if he got uncomfortable.
“I know, but he’ll try. And I can take it. Maybe I’ll even do a little manipulation of my own. You know he can’t say no to me. And I know you’ll be there, behind the glass to protect me, you and Ziva. Probably even Timmy. My guard dogs,” she said affectionately.
“Can’t protect you while you’re in there, Abbs,” Tony said softly. “Don’t let anyone get to you. Anyone at all. Mike, McGeek, Dirtbag. Promise…” Tony knew his voice sounded intense and maybe a little too emotional, but he was worried about her. And not only her body, but her emotional health and well-being.
“Tony, I will promise to do my best. I promise to keep my guard up, to try and not let anyone get to me. But I can only promise to try.” She reached up and hugged him, hearing the distressed sound to his voice.
Tony nodded and swatted her gently on the bottom. “Trying has always been good enough with me, Abbs.”
~*~
Jet looked at the officer and cocked an eyebrow. “Multiple Interrogation Rooms? Playing with the big boys, NCIS.” He eyed her carefully. “Where from, Ziver? DEA or ATF in The USA, but I’m betting you’re foreign, one of the MIs in Britain or maybe even Mossad. Or could you be Interpol.” Was NCIS somehow involved despite what he knew and the channels he monitored? There hadn’t been a peep about their involvement and he would know. He’d definitely know.
She rolled her eyes at his continued calling her “Ziver.” “I do not know about other agencies, but the multiple interrogation rooms have come in handy when we have multiple suspects needing to be questioned.” Pausing in front of the elevator, she waited for the car to stop on their level.
As the doors opened and Jet walked inside, she waited for the doors to shut behind them before answering him. “I am with Mossad as a liaison officer to NCIS. I have been for the past four years.”
“Mossad,” he replied, impressed. It made sense. And she worked semi-permanently with NCIS and not just for this op. Again, interesting. With his back to the wall, he manipulated the thin pin out from his watch and picked the locks on the cuffs, leaving them secured for a long moment before getting out of them and dangling them on a fingertip.
“Seven seconds, but my fingers are bigger. Don’t get itchy. Not resisting.” He manipulated his shoulders but kept his hands upturned all the while, the cuffs hanging down. He even made his posture less commanding, a clear deferment to her control of the situation.
“Impressive. What did you have to help you? Something hidden in your watch? The guys should have taken that from you as well.”
“You guys didn’t do more than a cursory search. I’m sure you will before I’m interrogated. But if it had been a wire, I could have taken even you out.” He didn’t answer her question, just stowed the pin in his watch. She knew and there wasn’t any point denying it.
She rolled her eyes when he told her McGee and Tony hardly searched the man. That caused her more worry than the knives. “You could have tried. So, is Jet your real name or something you use for your own purposes?”
“Anything I say could be used against me,” he pointed out calmly. “Jet suits me.” It was as truthful a non-answer as he was willing to give her. “Don’t you think? Works on a few different levels.”
“Point taken, Jet. And yes, on many levels, it suits you. Which leads me to believe that it is your given name, or at least part. Or perhaps a nickname you picked up in primary school. Someday, I hope to learn this since you intrigue me. But for now...” She let her sentence hang in the air, knowing the position they were all in.
“Nickname,” he agreed, not admitting to the former part. The fact that he gave her any information was a testament to the bond that was growing between them. It was nothing like the romance and heat of his dealings with Abby, but it was a bond nonetheless, formed when they were on completely opposite sides of a situation. There was something about her he both recognized and respected.
“Interesting nickname. Someday, I hope you will be able to tell me the story behind it,” she said, acknowledging his offering of information. The camaraderie she felt with the suspect was highly unusual, and generally a bad idea for an investigator. However, in her time with NCIS, Mike had taught her that instinct was rarely wrong " his gut, as he called it " and that it was best to go with impressions of a situation, rather than complete emotions.
“Someday maybe I will, “Jet agreed. “But in return I want to know more about Mossad comes to Navy Cop-land. There’s a hell of a story there.” He knew she felt their bond as well but he wouldn’t push it, wouldn’t make it something that he could take advantage of. He knew instinctively that it would break an unspoken code between them, a slight thawing of the tensions that he needed to regroup and continue to focus.
“Sounds like a good exchange, Brooks. And I believe the stories will be intriguing on both parts.” Ziva normally never felt comfortable with new people in her life and never with suspects. But there was something there, something about this man that she felt a kinship with, as if they shared a past. More than likely, the shared past came from making the decisions that changed everything, the ones no one liked to make, that more often than not saw someone dead at the end.
Eyeing him, she knew he was hiding something, and not just the details of his past or his current situation. Raising an eyebrow, she waited, letting him know she knew.
She just continued to watch him and he met her eyes levelly. “Left side of fly, plastic knife,” he said, giving her something that her agents hadn’t found. It was only two inches long with a deadly sharp tip, and nearly impossible to find unless they’d searched all his clothes. Finding him unconscious, it probably hadn’t been a huge deal for them.
He shrugged. “Don’t blame ‘em. They had me cuffed before I came to. Wasn’t like I was going to resist or break out of the cuffs easily.” But he could have, he’d proven that to her and knew she’d weigh that for future busts.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ziva approached him and began searching for the weapon after she pulled a glove from her pocket. Making the search quick and simple, she found the knife and extracted it from its hidden position. Giving him a nod of thanks and appreciation, she wrapped the knife in the loose glove and held on to it.
“Oh, I will blame them, and myself. I should have known better than to assume they had covered the bases for patting down a suspect. Especially, since both of them seemed to be controlled by some rather negative emotions in regards to you.”
“I could have kept that,” he pointed out quietly. “And you and I could have fought. Someone would have gotten hurt. If Baby Face had been watching me, I would have won.” He didn’t say outright that they needed to be more careful, but he knew she was astute enough to glean that from their conversation.
“I know you could have kept that, Brooks. I also know that you told me out of respect and a show of good faith. When I report to my superior, it will only go to improve your situation. So, your gesture worked in two ways. A smart move for someone detained.”
“Respect. Not any advantage I’m trying to gain. When this all makes sense to you, Ziver, you’ll understand.” It was as bold as he dared get right now in the face of everything crashing and burning around him. “And maybe you’ll be willing to listen to reason rather than kicking my ass then.”
Nodding, she replied, “I will withhold my judgment until then.” Laughing, she shook her head. “I sound rather ominous in that. But thank you for your sign of respect. Perhaps, someday, I will be able to show the same. As for the two who left that weapon on you, they will hear from me. I keep them in line. That is my unspoken position on the team, to keep them in check.”
He shrugged. “They saw their friend shaken up. She’s a forensic scientist, bet she isn’t undercover much. They reacted as men rather than agents. Done it myself.” And if he’d walked into the situation he would have reacted as they did. Initially anyway.
“You’re more used to keeping your head.” He knew it was the truth, that she was the calculating part of their team, Baby Face was the emotion, and the other guy, he didn’t know where he fit yet. He’d had the look of a career cop, but he’d been emotional too.
“And I cannot say that had I been a part of the team who found you and Abby that I would not have reacted much in the same manner. But for your sake, I would stop trying to explain the situation before your interrogation. Anything you say has to be reported on to Franks, and, as you said before, anything can be used against you. Even Abby,” she said, giving him a piece of information as her own show of their odd bond. Abby wouldn’t do a thing to put him in jeopardy, not if the situation between her and the suspect were as Tony and Tim had told her. But Mike would use Abby, in whatever way was necessary to get to Jet. Though he loved Abby, he had no qualms of using anything at his disposal, including people.
She had very valid points and he angled his head, nodding. “He uses her and there will be trouble. I’m not gonna lie down and let him use her. He already used her.” Now Jet was getting riled and hotheaded and he knew he had to dial it down. He’d already revealed too much and exposed an Achilles’ heel.
He let out a long gust of air and stared at the wall, knowing he had to calm himself. “If you care about her, you won’t give your boss an advantage to hurt your friend. He’s astute. Let him figure the situation out himself. She’ll get hurt and there will be no purpose.”
For the first time he considered coming clean, but he didn’t want to tip his hand yet. He needed that advantage.
Ziva watched his aggravation rise as he spoke of Abby. Intriguing. He is already protective of her, though she has shown herself to belong to the “other side.” I wonder what this says for the two of them. Does he care for her? More than any of us realize? And Abby? Does she feel the same? Ziva knew that soon, she and Abby would have to have a heart to heart. She needed to make sure her friend wasn’t heading down a road to heartbreak.
“You’re a worthy opponent, Ziver. How did NCIS snag you?” He paused as he waited for an answer.
“I requested this assignment, as the liaison, after an incident when one of my charges went rogue. As the handler, the situation went south and my agency handled it poorly. I had to leave. Having worked with NCIS and Special Agent Franks before, I knew this was an agency I could trust, people that I could work alongside of without the need of subterfuge.”
She was letting him in, feeding him information and he was strangely surprised. He hadn’t given her anything yet and she saw something in him that allowed her to open up. Something he wasn’t sure she did with very many. “Rogue charge, huh? Sounds like a mess.” He wondered if NCIS knew how lucky they were to have her.
“It was a mess. And I should probably stop talking now. Attention needs to be focused on you, not on me. I have been the focus many times before.” Coming to interrogation, she opened the door to Room One and waited for him to enter.
“All right,” he responded, knowing she’d realized how far she was going and naturally reined herself in.
Following him inside, she waited for him to take a look around the room before saying, “I do not know how long it will be. But I will be stationed outside. Will you need anything? A water perhaps?”
“No water needed. You want to tell me what I’m accused of? Warrior to warrior. I’m curious…”
“Again, I am not at liberty to say, even warrior to warrior. You will not be handled with contempt. You will be handled with respect and with your rights in tack. But I am under orders. I cannot violate those orders, despite the man I believe you to be.”
“Didn’t assault Abby,” he insisted, hoping she understood and believed him. It was important that she have some respect for him. “Don’t hurt women or children.” Unless I have to, he added silently. “Understand orders. We all have ‘em. Intrigued though. Wonder what you think I did.”
“I certainly hope you did not. Because if you did, Tony, Tim, even Franks will not be the ones you should worry about. Abby is my friend, and I do not have many of those. She is special and the heart of this agency. However, I will reserve my judgment until I have spoken with Abby on my own. She can tell me her version of what happened. And, if you also want to, you may tell me your version. Then I shall make my own conclusions.”
“If you need me to…” he said and trailed off. He walked the perimeter of the room, looking at the two-way glass, the television monitor, the speakers, before sitting in the chair across from the mirror and placing his hands and the cuffs he still held deliberately on the table. “Would you like to recuff me, Officer?”
Unlike with the others, he treated her with respect, as if he thought of her as a peer. No more riling, no more sarcasm, and he certainly wasn’t going to use his charm on her. And she was right, he saw her as a very strong warrior. Of all the agents under Special Agent Franks’ command, this was the one who could take him down the most easily,
Then again, Abby had knocked him out, both emotionally and literally.
He looked up at Ziva, awaiting her instructions but otherwise sitting calmly and coolly. Jet wasn’t about to give them a show. He was under federal custody; it wasn’t as if he was in harm’s way. Yet. What happened here would remain to be seen.
And then there was Abby and their connection. He sighed, eyeing himself in the mirror, running a hand over his hair and smoothing the front down before sitting taller, military posture coming out, his hands folded on the table.
Nodding at him in understanding, feeling the strange bond of kinship developing between them, Ziva left the interrogation to take up the position guarding the door. Not knowing exactly what had transpired between Jet and Abby, Ziva chose to reserve her opinions unlike her hotheaded coworkers. Answers would come soon enough.
He nodded, silently appreciative that she didn’t recuff him. He removed his watch as well and placed it on the table, nodding at the two-way mirror before sitting quietly, knowing he was under surveillance and observation.
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.