"What Had To Be Done, Part Six"
-Chapter Twelve-
Gibbs sat in a seat at the Defense table in the courtroom. He sat, unmoving, staring straight ahead as voices echoed in his ears. Memories of the events that had transpired only days before played and re-played themselves over and over in his mind.
--Gibbs' FLASHBACK--
Gibbs hadn't bothered to even return to his house after leaving the hospital for the second time since Tony had been admitted. He knew, thanks to a tip from Fornell that the FBI was on the move looking for him.
It had been at least a full 24 hours since Gibbs' worst fears had been realized. Now he knew that time was running very short for him and the remaining members of his team, and the fate of hundreds (maybe thousands) of lives was draped over their shoulders alone.
Now he stood in the center of the motel room that he had spent the last night in, dressed in a pair of jeans, one of his long-sleeve shirts, and a jacket. He had left his shield back at NCIS HQ with his service weapon, and his resignation papers/notice filed alongside the evidence for this 'case' that he was currently working.
A horn honked outside, and Gibbs knew that his ride had finally arrived to pick him up. He quickly shut off the lights, grabbed his bag that he'd brought with him, and headed out the door.
Fornell was waiting in the driver's seat of the silver Prius as Gibbs walked up, opened the passenger side door, and slid inside.
"Where's Mike?" Gibbs asked, as he closed the door.
"He's-" Fornell started to say.
"Back here." came a familiar voice from the backseat.
Fornell threw the car into revers, and began to back the car up so that they could exit the parking lot.
As the car pulled out of the motel parking lot, and onto the highway Mike Franks sat up in the backseat where he had been laying down.
"You don't look so good Mike." Gibbs commented on his former boss' appearance.
"Its called a 'Red-Eye' for a reason Probie." Mike retorted.
Gibbs stifled a chuckle, and so did Fornell.
"Now," Mike said, as he rubbed his eyes. "Would someone please explain to me just what the hell's going on?"
"Someone in the White House is trying to wipe D.C. off of the map." Fornell replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
"What!?" Mike nearly yelled.
"The Vice President wants to re-shape the country to HIS liking," Gibbs began.
"He's just gonna blow up all of Washington D.C., and hope that he's the only survivor that way he can take over the presidency?" Mike said, trying to put the pieces together in his own mind.
"He's using the Russians." Fornell inserted. "They don't know it yet--but they've been setup."
Gibbs and Fornell spent the next ten minutes or so as they drove down the highway to explain the whole situation to Mike.
Mike shook his head, as he rubbed his hand down the length of his face in disbelief. "Damn." he muttered to himself, finally.
"I know the feeling." Fornell assured him.
"So what's the plan?" Mike asked finally, looking as serious now as he had probably ever looked in his life. "You do have one--right?"
"I mean its not like we can just call the Russians, explain the whole situation, and expect THEM to believe US."
"Nope." Gibbs replied.
"Then what?" Mike asked.
"I had an 'old' friend call in a favor, and we should hear from the Captain as soon as he reaches Siberia--which should be fairly soon." Gibbs explained. "He's supposed to check in once he lands."
"Alright--And?" Mike pressed.
"We know our guy has to have someway to survive the blast," Fornell interjected. "So he's probably either already left the country, or he's getting ready to leave."
"Only thing we don't know--is what landmark in D.C. he's got the missiles aimed at, or when 'exactly' they'll be launched." Gibbs added.
Mike thought for a moment, silently, pondering something to himself. Suddenly, he looked as though he'd just had an idea, and he reached back into the back seat--looking for something in a bag that was sitting next to him.
"What?" Fornell asked, glancing quickly into the rear-view mirror.
"This." Mike said, as he pulled out a rolled up newspaper, and passed it forward to Gibbs. "Picked it up at the airport this morning--before you picked me up."
The front page of the newspaper carried a story about how the President was hosting some kind of huge banquet at the White House directly after he delivered an equally important speech on the 'South Lawn'. The event, according to the newspaper, was supposed to take place on that day at 12:00 for the speech, and 12:30 for the 'After Banquet'.
"You gotta be kidding me." Fornell said, after Gibbs had relayed to him what the paper said.
"The Vice Pres. has to be there, at least for the speech--its required." Mike pointed out.
"Jesus." Fornell muttered under his breath, as he spun the car around a turn, and down another street.
"My sources in the CIA told me their intel indicated a group of 'Radical' Russian militants were planning to test a 'new' weapon sometime TODAY." Fornell told Mike. "They'll only test fire one missile--how does he expect his 'plan' to succeed if-"
"May-maybe he's not planning to leave the country," Mike suggested. "There are alternatives--right?"
"There's no time to waste thinking about it," Gibbs said at once. "We've got less than an hour and a half to find the Vice Pres. before he makes his move."
"So the White House then." Mike said.
"The White House." Fornell agreed. "Guess we're making a U-turn then."
Fornell quickly, and expertly, spun the silver Prius around in a sharp turn, weaving across several lanes of traffic with horns honking on all sides, as he weaved out the way of oncoming cars into the lane he needed to be in. Once the tiny car was settled Fornell pressed the accelerator to the floor.
Suddenly Gibbs' cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and read the Caller ID, before flipping it open. "Captain Rabb, I trust your-" he started to say into the receiver.
"Its a no-go Gibbs," Rabb said, cutting Gibbs off mid-sentence. "I've been detained at the airport in Moscow."
"What?" Why?" Gibbs asked.
"Well, from what little Russian I do speak," Harm explained. "It would seem they knew I was coming."
"Damn." Gibbs muttered.
"I know." Harm agreed.
"Well, thanks for trying Captain." Gibbs said quietly. "Just sit tight. When things are settled here, we'll get you out of there." Gibbs promised.
"Alright Gibbs." Harm replied. "I'll be waiting."
Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but then he heard shouting on the other end, and then the line went dead.
Gibbs took a few minutes to relay what Captain Rabb had told him.
"If they knew about him," Mike pointed out. "You know this ain't gonna be easy for us either."
"No kidding." Fornell agreed.
-Chapter Thirteen-
Nearly 45 minutes or so later Gibbs, Fornell, and Mike stepped out of the Silver Prius, which they parked a few blocks away from the White House, and began to make their way towards the White House.
"Fornell," Gibbs said as they began to walk away from the car. "Sorry about your job."
"Ah," Fornell replied. "I hated that job anyway." he said with a tiny grin.
Gibbs chuckled.
"You three," a voice boomed from somewhere behind them. "Stop where you are--put your hands where I can see them."
The trio froze in place, but didn't lift their hands up right away.
"I knew it." Mike swore under his breath.
"The bastard knew we would try to stop him." Fornell added. "You gotta admit--he covered all the bases pretty damn well."
"Think so." Gibbs mused, as he and Fornell began to raise their hands up into the air.
Next they heard what sounded like several footsteps approaching them from behind. Mike, who was standing between the two other men, was slowly reaching down towards his side.
The men got right up on top of the trio, but then Mike suddenly doubled over slamming hard into the pavement below. The men were startled, and struggled momentarily to react in the proper fashion. The distraction worked just long enough for Mike to roll over onto his back, a gun now firmly grasped in his hand, and fire several shots at the group of 5 guys who were dressed like Secret Service Agents.
Gibbs and Fornell spun around to face the men as well at the same time. Gibbs slammed his fist hard into one guys face knocking him backwards onto his butt on the pavement. Fornell grabbed another of the disoriented men and slammed him hard into a nearby lamp post.
"Run!" Gibbs barked.
Gibbs hauled Mike to his feet and the trio ran off in the opposite direction. They managed to make it to cover behind a group of parked cars just a few yards away before the Secret Service guys began firing off shots at them.
For a few moments the two groups exchanged gun fire with one another. Gibbs and Fornell also wielded hand guns that they had managed to swipe from the two secret service goons that they had knocked out just moments earlier.
"Damn you Probie!" Mike shouted over the gun fire. "I got a grandson and a daughter-in-law to take care of," Mike fumed angrily. "And you just had to drag me up here to die!"
"Relax," Gibbs replied. "You're not dead yet."
"Were you carrying that Gun the whole time?" Fornell asked Mike.
"Never go anywhere without it." Mike replied.
Just then Gibbs' cell phone rang again. He read the Caller ID, and was baffled by it because it was his desk phone back at NCIS HQ.
"Hello?" Gibbs said, holding the phone up to his ear.
"Boss."
"McGee!" Gibbs shouted into the phone. "You're supposed to be on a plane to-"
"I couldn't do it Boss," McGee said cutting him off. "You need me."
"How's that?" Gibbs asked.
"The Vice Pres. not at the White House." McGee informed him.
"What? How do you know that?" Gibbs asked.
"I've been monitoring his movement by tracking his cell phone," McGee explained.
"Where the hell is he then!?" Gibbs shouted into the phone.
"We need a ride!" Gibbs shouted at Mike and Fornell as McGee continued to talk over the phone.
"You got it." Mike said. He stood up, and struck the passenger side window of the nearest car with the butt of his gun. He then ducked down behind it once again, as several shots flew over his head.
Mike reached in through the shattered window and unlocked the car. He slid in, on his belly, and began playing with the underside of the driver's side. Seconds later the car rumbled to life. Mike scrambled upright in the driver's seat as Fornell jumped into the back of the car, and Gibbs slid into the passenger's seat.
-Chapter Fourteen-
As the trio sped away, out of the range of the secret service agents, Gibbs continued to talk to McGee.
"Why did you stay?" Gibbs asked.
"I was thinking," McGee started to explain. "The Russians will set their own coordinates into the missiles' directional targeting vectors, so how would the missile be able to hit D.C.?"
"McGee." Gibbs said sternly.
"Okay. Fine." McGee replied, clearing his throat. "Remotely. The Vice Pres. has to have someway of resetting the targeting vectors remotely."
"From where?" Gibbs asked.
"Maybe from the President's secret underground bunker." McGee suggested.
Fornell overheard McGee's suggestion. "No, it would never work that way. No one, not even that crazy bastard, is allowed down there without a good reason." Fornell explained. "He'd have to give himself up to do that."
"Then where?" Mike asked.
"Damn." Fornell suddenly swore out loud.
Everyone else in the car turned to look at the former FBI agent sitting in the back seat.
"What?" Mike asked.
"Greenbrier." Fornell said.
"Greenbrier. THE 'Greenbrier'" Mike choked out. "As in THE 'Greenbrier Bunker'?"
"Yeah. Afraid so." Fornell replied.
"I thought that place was just a tourist attraction in the basement of a ritzy hotel now--" Mike said. "You're telling me that place is actually still operational?"
"Well, last time I checked it was still fully stocked, and still had power running to it." Fornell replied.
"Damn!" Mike swore out loud. "This just keeps getting better and better." he added, shaking his head.
"McGee," Gibbs said into the phone. "If he does reset the missile's guidance system before we reach him--can you knock it down--the same way I mean?"
"Sure, I guess I could." McGee replied. "I just need the radio frequency that the Vice Pres. is going to be using to reset it."
"How can we get it?" Fornell asked. "Its not like he's just gonna give it to us because we put a gun to his head."
"Not too worry Boss," McGee reassured Gibbs and the others. "I've got Ziva taking care of that as we speak."
--------To Be Continued--------
Author's Chapter Notes:
Its a race against time for Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Fornell, and Mike Franks as they attempt to thwart an attack on U.S. soil perpetrated by someone on the inside of the White House...
Chapter End Notes:
F.Y.I. Viewers might want to make sure they re-read the first five chapters. Some changes were made, and some things were added. I realized that I had been working so quickly that I left just a few things out before. Sorry for any inconvenience this might have caused.