Gibbs didn’t know what had woken him up and old habits made him assess his surroundings before giving any indication that he wasn’t asleep any longer. He didn't change his posture or breathing, a skill he'd learned long ago.
He couldn’t hear footsteps; the house didn’t feel as if there was an intruder. Gibbs opened his eyes a crack and peeked at the bedside table. The baby-monitor was silently blinking and his ancient alarm clock’s fluorescent display showed that it was oh two hundred. Much too soon to be waking up, even for good little former marines. The sound of restless movement, rustling sheets and the absence of the sound of deep, relaxed breathing gave him an idea about what was wrong. Tony wasn’t sleeping. Gibbs rubbed his own eyes before he heaved himself up on one elbow and looked at the other man.
Of course elevating his position didn’t help much. The curtains shutting out any moonlight and the lamps were turned off, the only light being provided by a small lamp in the hallway. They'd left the bedroom door open a crack. Even if Gibbs could have navigated the house blindfolded, Tony and Sam wouldn’t be able to.
Gibbs could barely make out the outlines of his bed partner’s form. Tony was lying on his back, his arms crossed under his head, his face averted from Gibbs’ side of the bed. The younger man was nearly motionless now, the shadows changing shape on the pillow were the only indicators that helped Gibbs figure out what Tony was doing. Well, that and the fact that Gibbs had seen this gesture a dozen times. Whenever his agent was deep in thought and trying to puzzle something out, he would lean back in his chair, cross his arms behind his head and play distractedly with his own hair.
Damn it, the older agent had been in a similar head-space more than once, he could empathize with his partner. So tired one could sleep for days, but too wired to do so; one's own brain sabotaging every attempt to rest with dark thoughts and ‘might have beens’. It wasn’t a good place to be at all. Gibbs sighed and Tony’s head whipped around. Before the younger man could open his mouth, probably to apologize for waking him, Gibbs shook his head commandingly. He knew that Tony would be able to see it against the backdrop of the lighter space of the door behind Gibbs’ head.
Gibbs felt the mattress shift and the bunched up sheets over his mid-drift were tugged on. Tony sat up and was preparing to leave the bed.
“I’ll drink some water and then use the couch. No need for both of us to be awake.”
The tired and defeated whisper tugged at Gibbs’ heart and made him think of another way to get Tony to sleep. “No, lie down again, I’ve got a better idea.”
Well, if he could relax Tony enough to enjoy sex right now, Gibbs knew the perfect cure for insomnia. Nothing too complicated, of course. His plan to wait with the serious stuff until they didn’t have to fear being disturbed was still valid, but there were some simple things they could do and enjoy. Of course Gibbs would have to divert some of his attention, he would keep an ear tuned to Sam leaving her room. The wooden beams of the floor in the hallway creaked when someone who didn’t know their secrets walked over them. The girl wasn’t stealthy enough. And if she really got up and searched for her father and found the two men in bed together, the drawn up sheets would provide the camouflage required.
A little rummaging in the bedside table and Gibbs had all he needed. Now he just had to convince Tony and he doubted that much convincing would be needed. He pulled the younger man flush against himself; the maneuver earned him a startled little yelp but after a second to adjust, Tony relaxed against him. It took a little undignified tugging, wriggling (and tired chuckling) to get the obstructing sheets sorted out, but finally they could rest halfway comfortably against each other, Tony’s back against Gibbs’ front.
Gibbs took a deep breath and couldn’t help but smile as he wrapped his arms around Tony. Planned or not, this felt good.
The muscles under his fingers were still tense, though. Gibbs pressed a soft kiss against the temptingly near neck as his fingers stroked soothingly over the younger man’s chest.
“Didn’t want to wake you.” Tony whispered the apology that had been hovering on the tip of his tongue. “Sleep isn’t my friend tonight.”
Gibbs continued pressing closed-mouth kisses against Tony’s warm skin, the short hairs at the younger man’s neck tickling his nose. “Concentrate on me, forget anything else.”
He changed the actions of his fingers, as he wasn't trying to calm Tony anymore. His hands continued their painting motions, but were no longer content with mere cotton as their canvas. Tony's pyjama buttons were no match for Gibbs' dexterity, so it didn't take long to ease them from their holes. Gibbs had seen Tony shirtless before and had secretly admired the well-toned chest with its mat of hair partly obscuring the flat nipples. Now he was finally allowed to touch and was surprised by the soft quality of the crinkly hair.
Tony whimpered and if the hardening nubs under Gibbs’ fingers were anything to go by, he was enjoying what was being done to him very much. One of the younger man’s hands reached back and touched Gibbs’ thigh, kneading it tentatively. His actions sent sparks up to Gibbs appreciative cock, which lay pressed against Tony’s butt. Of course Tony could feel his interest, he had to be able to, as near as they were to each other. Tony lazily rolled his hips, adding friction and then tried to turn around. Gibbs prevented him turning by tightened his hold. He bit down, his teeth closing on the little bit of neck he had caressed before.
Tony turned his head instead, as far as he was able to, and rubbed his face against any skin he could reach. Stubbled cheek met equally stubbled chin and it made both men moan. “Wanna touch you too.” Tony complained.
"Shhhh Tony, doing this to put you to sleep, just enjoy. You'll have me to touch any time you want after tonight."
He felt, more than saw, the nod in answer.
Gibbs’ left hand stayed to torment Tony’s chest, the other hand wandered over a firm belly and then downwards from there. He didn’t tease too much; this wasn’t about drawn out foreplay. There was only one more obstacle to conquer between him and his goal. Gibbs stuck his hands into Tony’s pyjama bottoms where they were greeted by an eager hardness. He wished for a visual to go with the tactile data, something to add color and shapes to the tantalizing feel of soft skin and hot flesh. But the darkness had its advantages too, it made him concentrate more on his sense of touch. Being allowed to touch and play after looking and longing for years made for a heady experience. Gibbs took a deep breath to reign himself in and then concentrated on the task at hand. He went with what worked for himself as a starting point. A firm stroke down the shaft, a careful twist just under the head. Tiny gasps and whimpers gave him clues as to what felt especially good for Tony. There wasn’t much finesse needed. Soon Tony arched in his arms and hot liquid spurted over Gibbs’ hand.
It didn’t take Gibbs long to reach his climax, either, just a few firm tugs on his own, till now neglected, cock. He was near falling asleep himself but there was still a little bit of cleaning up to do. Gibbs wiped up the mess they had created with the tissues he had retrieved earlier. Tony didn’t react to the touching beyond a faint mumble; he was down for the count. Gibbs arranged the sheets to cover them both and then retrieved the comforter that had rested on the foot of the bed. It got chilly in the early hours of the morning.
Soft snores told him everything he needed to know about Tony's sleep status. Gibbs relaxed behind his partner, and pressed a final kiss against the particular spot he had begun to regard as his on Tony’s neck, before closing his own eyes.
.-#-.
When she was a teenager and full of exciting dreams, Abby had dreamed about a future as one of the best investigators of all time. She would have all of Mrs Maple’s instincts (but be much prettier), combined with the cool logic of Sherlock Holmes (without the opium and pipe) and James Bond’s gadgets (which she would build herself, of course). It would make her the ultimate crime fighter. Reality set in and it hadn’t taken her long to come to the conclusion that she didn’t like to interact with strangers, they never seemed to take her seriously, and that she preferred analyzing puzzle pieces to finding them. Real life field agents had additional restrictions placed upon them, like pesky rules of what to wear and a whole lot of things not to. All those things would eat at her till nothing of Abby was left, something she couldn’t allow.
She still loved the gadgets though. Major Mass Spec and his brothers and sisters were Abby’s pampered pets and they thrived under her care. They paid her kindness back with answers to her questions. That and living vivaciously through the tales of the Bossman and his team’s adventures made Abby love her job at NCIS all the more.
If there was one thing Abby really hated it was being unaware of details pertaining to a member of her team. She couldn’t accompany them into the field and thus most of the information came to her second-hand. The Goth took pride in the fact that she was like a graceful, semi-scary spider sitting in the middle of her web with her fingertips on the silk threads, always the first to feel the vibrations.
Her people told her stuff, be it about a case or private things. And the Great Mistress of the Dark had been, well, in the dark about the existence of a little girl named Sempera, while Chynthia, the Director's assistant, had apparently been in the know. The woman had chatted with her today when they met at the check-in point. Anthony DiNozzo had told Chynthia about his daughter weeks ago. It was unbearable.
Didn’t Tony trust her anymore? Had Abby insulted him somehow and lost his confidence? Yeah, she liked to gossip and tease but never about really private confessions, she would never do something like that. Tony must know that, surely?
Abby looked miserably down at the project she was working on. It was a child sized wrist-cuff made of stainless steel with black and orange bats in flight engraved on the surface. Sam looked like someone who would appreciate the design, find it cool. Abby had taken some time searching for the perfect one for their purpose. Of course, she had modified it, it wasn’t meant to be purely decorative. There were some nifty little helpers hidden in the rim of the piece, a tiny locator and a monitoring device. Additionally she had altered the lock so it could only be opened with the matching keys.
One small manipulation and one recalibration of the chip later, it was ready to be used. She just had to wait for Tony and his daughter. They should be here any minute now, Kyle, who was manning the entrance checkpoint, had given her a call. Abby turned the wrist cuff in her hands, concentrating on the way the light played across the polished shapes.
She had gone up to the squad room yesterday evening, expecting the whole gang to be there, but to her disappointment only finding Timmy and Ziva sitting behind their respective desks, busily toiling away at their tasks. The Bossman, Tony and Sam had been gone. Tim had been very vocal about how irritating Tony’s daughter could be, but in a rather resigned way that Abby found very sweet. Tim had shown her the print out of the little one’s drawing and had been rather proud about how much attention Sam must have paid him to get all the details just right. Ziva had only shrugged her shoulders. DiNozzos seemed to have a knack for getting on your nerves, but they grew on you too.
Abby speculated that there would be some changes in how Tony was perceived by the other NCIS personnel. Nearly all of NCIS was buzzing with scuttlebutt about yesterday, from the guards at the gate to the secretaries in HR. Abby hadn’t been joking about how ridiculous some of the tales going around were. Tony wouldn’t like it at all. It was worse than the time Agent John Finnegan had been caught changing his clothes in the women’s restroom.
Speaking of Tony, he was entering her domain this moment and looking around the room searchingly. He looked a little rumpled and tired. The clothes he wore were different than the ones from yesterday, but they could have profited from the application of a hot iron.
Sam was hidden half behind her father’s back, her gray-green eyes busily darting from one of Abby’s babies to the next. The colorful printouts on the lab walls got the extra attention they deserved. Of course Abby had made sure that most of the more disturbing things were hidden away this morning. Even a Goth at heart didn’t think that bloodstain pattern analysis was appropriate viewing material for a little girl.
Her third visitor was the Bossman himself, following closely on Tony and Sam's six. He wore his more smirky-scowly expressions, so Abby surmised he was probably in a fairly good mood. You had to be fluent in Gibbsish to see the difference to the regular pure scowl, but Abby had learned the difference years ago.
Abby bounced over to them and gave Gibbs his good morning hug, then turned to Tony. His eyes widened in alarm and she remembered that a certain little someone had issued a clear hands off rule when it came to the green-eyed man. A look down confirmed that Sam had positioned herself between Gibbs and her father and was practicing her Bossman stare, but without any good humor in the mix. “Good morning Sam! Here take this, it’s for you.” Abby spoke clearly so the girl would have no problems reading her lips and held out the present for inspection.
Sam eyed it distrustfully and then looked up at her dad before hesitantly turning to the waiting lab tech again. ‘It is pretty, but I shouldn’t take presents from strangers. It’s a rule.’
Abby laid down the piece of not-just-jewelery to free her hands. “It is not a present sweetie, it will help to keep you safe. It will always tell us where you are.” Abby focused on Tony and glared at him pointedly while signing two other sentences. “And I am not a stranger. Ask your dad.”
Sam sneered and waved one of her hands in a rather dismissive manner which earned her a warning look from her father.
A deep chuckle made Abby expand her death glare to the Bossman as well. He was casually leaning against one of her tables observing them.
“I am not.” She repeated. And if she was, she shouldn’t be! Tony should have introduced them ages ago. But Abby wouldn’t say so in front of Sam.
“Abby is nice, I’ve been working with her for years.” Tony tugged at his daughter’s hair, which was styled this morning in a single, very messy braid. “I asked her to find something pretty for you. Do you like it?”
Oh, her boy really had to practice more, his signs were sloppy and slurred. Abby would have to correct him later, it wouldn’t do for him to have an accent. It looked like she would need to teach him how to braid hair too.
Sam clearly had to think about Abby’s question. She took her time and inspected the cuff before making up her mind. ‘I like bats, they are way cooler than butterflies.’
“See! That’s what I thought.” Abby beamed at the little girl and opened the cuff, holding it out. “Now, let’s find out how it looks on your wrist.”
Both Tony and Gibbs came closer in order to observe the proceedings, the Bossman looking over his second in command's shoulder so he could get a better look.
There was something different about how the two men interacted. Abby wrinkled her forehead and stared at them, but a severe glare from Gibbs directed her back to the task at hand.
“So, how did you like staying at the Bossman’s house?” The Goth used her personal sign for Gibbs, the sign for fox followed by the color silver, but Sam seemed to know whom she meant, it wasn’t that hard to guess.
‘I got to sleep in a big bed! Jet doesn’t have a kid’s bed, just one really big one and an adult sized one.’
Jet? Huh. Abby looked questioningly at Gibbs. He allowed the little one to call him that? Interesting, but the Bossman always had a far softer touch when it came to children. She turned to Sam again.
“You slept well?
Sam shrugged her shoulders ‘I was too tired to miss my squid and the room smelled funny but yes, I slept well. I woke up before everyone else.’
Tony interjected, "What, or who, is this squid.” He looked slightly apprehensive, as if he expected a sailor jumping out of the shadows or a living sea monster poking is head out of one of Sam’s pockets.
Sam was staring up at her dad. ‘My squid. You know what a squid is yes? Mine is made of orange plush and has eight tentacles, a round head and he has suction cups made of leather. Chris gave him to me when I was five, he said he would protect me. Squid always sits on my pillow and keeps watch while I sleep.’ She wrinkled her nose despondently. ‘I didn’t have time to fetch him yesterday. Maybe that's the reason I couldn't sleep longer.’
How cute, a plush squid as a cuddle toy. Oh yes, Sam was a girl after Abby’s own heart. All the signing had delayed the Goth in her task to secure the device to the girl’s wrist, but she finally managed to fasten it. Even at a fourth glance nobody should be able to guess that it wasn’t a piece of jewelery. She handed each agent a key and kept the third one for herself.
“You woke us at five in the morning!” accused Tony, but Sam just shrugged at him and went back to examining her new adornment. She seemed to pay the complaint no real attention, but Abby saw her fidget and it made the lab tech tilt her head thoughtfully. Yep, lots of new developments.
‘I was hungry.’ Sam finally raised her head and brightly smiled up at her dad. ‘I won’t jump on you again as a wake up call, if you really don't like it, but it was so much fun.’ She looked pleadingly up at the men. ‘I didn’t know that you two would react like scaredy cats just because I jumped onto the bed.’
Wait a moment. “Both of them?” Abby exclaimed. Bossman and Tony always had a certain chemistry going on between them. Sam’s observation about them sharing a bed made Abby speculate if they were finally doing something about all the sparky tension.
Tony groaned and hid his eyes behind his hand. As if that would help, oh no. Abby had scented blood and encouraged the little girl to elaborate. Gibbs smirk deepened, he was not the least bit fazed by Sam’s comment.
“You caught them both unaware, really?”
Sam nodded seriously. ‘I think Jet was awake before I reached the bed, he didn’t look as surprised, but dad was sleeping. I totally surprised him!’ She snickered. ‘He got tangled in the blanket and landed on the floor, flopping and flailing. He nearly took me down with him, Jet caught me. And Jet was laughing at him hard, he really was.’
Gibbs wasn’t looking apologetic at all. “Heard her leave her room and enter ours. Didn’t expect her to jump.”
“Doesn’t mean you had to laugh your head off.” Tony groused, but the corners of his mouth wouldn’t obey him and stay down, which made for a comically suppressed smile, rather than pissed one.
Sam was looking from one adult to the next, her tiny teeth worrying her lower lip. Abby saw how her fingers twisted the hem of her skirt and the Goth sighed. Men could be the most clueless creatures on earth.
“Tony, Tony, Tony.” Abby shook her head at him in pity. “Jumping onto the bed is a traditional and completely acceptable means for a little girl to wake her dad.“ Stupid man. Hadn’t he said that Sam had been in boarding school? That meant it had probably been her first night under the same roof as her dad. She tried to discreetly nod in Sam’s direction. He really was hopeless for someone who claimed to be an expert at understanding women.
“Oh. If you say so Abs.” Finally Tony seemed to have bought a clue, he hesitantly reached for the little girl and patted her on the head. ”Sam, it wasn’t so much your surprise attack I objected to, it was him braying like a donkey and the ungodly hour!” he poked his finger accusingly in the Bossman’s direction, messing up the flow of his signs even more. But it made Sam smile again, so that was ok.
Tony wasn’t done complaining. “I was sleeping really deeply for a change. Uhm.”
Abby stared fascinated at the pretty red flush which slowly crept onto Tony’s face until even his ears began to glow. Huh, weird.
It was Gibbs who broke the uncomfortable silence. “DiNozzos, if you’re done dallying around, there are people waiting for us upstairs.” He said and signed, turned on his heel and strode out of the room. Father and daughter waved at Abby and then hurriedly tried to catch up to Gibbs’s fast retreating form.
The Goth smiled. She would let Tony escape, for now. He would need a little bit of female input soon enough and then Abby would get some answers, oh yes.
.-#-.
It was nearly midday when Gibbs called his team together for an update.
“Run everything we know by me. David, you start, DiNozzo add your two cents afterward.” Gibbs hoped that they had been able to dig something up that would give them a lead. Dark crescents under his eyes and unnaturally pale skin told their own story about the state of Tony DiNozzo and the stress he was under. Fighting about a safe place to lay their heads yesterday and being woken up before dawn with only a few hours of rest hadn’t helped either.
Ziva David sat on the edge of her desk and pointed the remote at the screen. A picture of St. Margareth’s appeared, with blueprints of the floors and a list of the key personnel with small pictures beside the names. “Nothing noteworthy thus far about the staff. None of them have more than parking tickets in their files, no criminal records. Mrs. Reynolds hasn’t been Principal for long and her appointment wasn’t unanimous by the board. Her predecessor, Renata McMillan, wasn’t very good where finances were concerned and she made herself unpopular with her budget administration. Reynold's connections to wealthy sponsors got her the winning votes in the end. She is more political animal than teacher, her main degree is in economics. She teaches economics and social history as subjects to the upper years.”
The Mossad officer went on through the list, and though there wasn't anything remarkable, her teammates listened attentively. They had learned the hard way that a break in a case often came from a detail that was at first look unremarkable. The old cliché about the devil getting you with the details was a cliché for a reason.
“The other pupils, now here it gets more interesting. Remember the sponsors I told you about? One of the principals breast buddies-“ she stopped and waited, but there was no comment and she raised one of her carefully plucked eyebrows.
Gibbs leaned back in his chair and waited. Faced with a short-tempered and tired DiNozzo, the younger members of his team had shown signs of confusion the whole morning. Of course, understanding on an intellectual level didn't prevent them from feeling more comfortable with the ‘normal’ Tony, so they made repeated attempts to goad him into their usual modus operandi, without success thus far. Something had to give.
Tony had straddled one of the office chairs and was making notes on a pad, his eyes dark and serious. Gibbs observed him closely. At the sudden silence, his senior agent stopped scribbling and looked up at Ziva, irritated and obviously not ready to be playful. “Eh, I think you mean bosom buddies. And if you look at me like that, you obviously knew that already. Stop wasting both our time.”
“Just checking if you pay attention.” Ziva smirked and was snarled at for her efforts.
Oh for the love of- “Checking is my job, David.” Gibbs dryly rebuked the woman. “So’s snarling, DiNozzo! Only one bastard allowed on the team and that’s me. Concentrate, both of you.” he added.
There was no, ‘Yes Boss, on it, boss!’ DiNozzo didn’t reply at all, he just stared at the screen.
Ziva shrugged and her smirk disappeared. The former assassin fiddled with the remote again. A picture of an attractive man in his mid-forties appeared on the screen. “Gerard Coultier, the father of the girl Sempera fought with yesterday, is one of the major financial contributors to the institution. I phoned one of my contacts and he told me that Mr. Coultier has expressed displeasure about the 'uncouth ruffian' his daughter has to share a classroom with. But Coultier isn’t the type to abduct an eight-year-old just because she has a schoolyard feud with his daughter, that’s overkill.”
“No, he isn’t.” Tony rubbed at his forehead and the lines around his eyes deepened. “I know him. He was two years ahead of me at Rhode Island Military Academy. We didn’t have much contact with each other. I didn't so much know him as know of him. Coultier had the reputation of being hot-headed and headstrong; he got into brawls a lot. Probably the reason why his parents sent him there in the first place. Last I heard he now prefers the civilized version of fisticuffs. Why dirty his hands if he can use his lawyers as attack dogs or pull strings via his toadies?”
Ziva nodded. “That matches the things I’ve found out and heard about him. The secretary at St. Margareth’s told me that Coultier requested Sempera be transferred to another class.”
McGee continued the briefing from where he had barricaded himself behind stacks of folders and printouts piled up on his desk. “But …uhm…it is suspicious nonetheless that it was his daughter’s actions and the support of the principal which helped create the opportunity for the kidnappers.” The computer geek faltered and avoided looking in Tony’s direction. “We pulled the security tape of the entrance gate. It shows Sam leaving at 1235 hours and the cabbie stopping to pick her up six minutes later.”
The video from the tape in question was displayed on the screen. Ziva still held the remote and clicked a button to activate the playback.
“There, do you see the dark blue sedan stopping across the street just as the girl climbs into the cab?” asked Tim.
The team watched as both of the blue car’s front doors opened while Sam was speaking to the cabbie and closed again when she climbed into the cab.
Gibbs watched with rising anger as the sedan was pulled away from the curb and followed the cab. It had been so close, so damn close. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened. Bastards preying on children were the worst. “Play it again!” Gibbs snapped at David. They watched the tape four times, but the angle of the camera didn’t allow a better view of the suspicious sedan or its occupants. There was nothing to identify them. The camera had been installed to observe the school entrance, not the space across the street.
“They must have known that she would likely be suspended yesterday and waited for the call, otherwise they would have needed more time to reach the school. It would have been easy for them to pretend that I sent them, that they were in the vicinity and did me a favor,” DiNozzo’s eyes were fixated on the screen, his jaw so tight it must be hurting him. “Damn it.”
Gibbs rounded his desk and stood beside his pale-faced agent. “Tony.” The silver-haired agent took care not to touch the younger man, it wasn’t appropriate in the office and this wasn’t a situation for his usual style of wake up call either.
Green eyes looked up at him and the despair in them made the older agent wince in sympathy.
“So close.” Tony words echoed his own thoughts and Gibbs could see his throat working convulsively. “Boss, sorry, sorry, I…”
“You knew it, but it is much more real now.”
“Yeah.” Tony took some deep breaths and his boss could see him calling on his professional mask to hide behind. It did not slip on easily. “We should interview the cabbie; maybe he saw and can remember something helpful about the car.”
Gibbs glared at McGee and David, took a position to shield Tony from their eyes and began barking orders, diverting their attention from their distressed colleague. He wanted to buy one or two minutes for Tony to compose himself. “Demanding some answers from the Coultier girl and the principal wouldn’t go amiss either. What are you waiting for, get to it.”
Ziva rearranged her hair, one of her nervous tells, and grimaced, clearly preparing for a negative reaction to her next words. “Might be difficult. Sally-Ann has returned home at her parents' insistence. Her father is denying us access to her. Apparently the girl had a nervous breakdown about being, ah, 'falsely accused of stealing and destroying a phone and she is in no condition to be questioned', no matter how carefully. We cannot demand an eight-year-old cooperate.”
Being told he couldn’t do something had never stopped Gibbs before. “See how her parents like it if she is being indicted as an accomplice to a crime instead. Tell the father that, if she is innocent, it's in her own best interest to answer questions that will help clear her of any suspicion.”
“Will do. You don’t really think that she was an accomplice? An eight-year-old? Or that her father used her to set Sam up?” Even the hardened Mossad operative seemed to have problems with such a concept.
“Assuming makes an ass out of you and me, but I doubt that most fathers would risk their child. Additionally, her involvement would have been, in hindsight, far too obvious.” Gibbs bared his teeth in a caricature of a smile. “We'll check anyway.” He could easily believe that the girl was nearly hysterical. Her little prank had gone horribly wrong and now she was the one in trouble.
Tony’s had regained some color and his attention was again focused on the screen with its picture of his daughter and the cab, the sedan looming in the background. “Someone must have told her when to get Sam into enough trouble so she would become accessible for the kidnappers. If they had pulled it off " a longer time period would have passed before her being missing came to our attention. The perps would have had a huge advantage, time to plan their next steps, to cover their tracks, time to hole up somewhere…" Tony abandoned his chair and prowled up and down between the desks to burn some of his nervous energy. “Can’t even guess who encouraged the Coultier brat to do it, it could have been anyone.”
“It’s one of the questions I want her to answer.” Gibbs agreed. “Sit down, you're making me dizzy.” He would have to redirect all that energy later into something more productive or Tony would run himself into the ground, mentally and physically.
“Reynolds is easy, she'll have to cooperate, or this will ruin not only the school's reputation, but hers as well. Parents don't take well to school personnel assisting kidnappers."
David nodded. “Oh, she’s very aware of this. She keeps insisting that, if a federal agency has to be involved, it should be the FBI because they are impartial.”
Yeah, Reynolds might wish for it, but it was more likely that George W. Bush would willingly kiss Al Gore on the mouth than it was that Gibbs would give the lead on this case to his rival at the FBI, one Agent Fornell. “Which takes us to the naval angle. McGee?”
“Sergeant Christopher Peltier was involved in a classified project down in Colorado. I couldn’t get more information, just some names and a lot of walls.” Nervous fingers re-sorted already tidy packs of notes.
The former Marine didn’t have to consult his own notes, he had them memorized. “His CO said he was dedicated, loyal and very good at his job. He never took anything work related home.”
Tony shook his head. “Anyone can be corrupted and a brain is a recording device that can’t be left behind when you clock out. Maybe they want something he wrote down at home voluntarily or under pressure. Or something they think he told Sam.”
Gibbs' command to sit down hadn’t worked for long. Tony was going to wear a groove into the office floor with his pacing. His flat and emotionless voice was a stark contrast to his agitated movements. “I’ve had all their things put into storage, I didn’t have the time to sort everything out then, but didn’t want to throw them away either, they are everything that was left of Sam’s folks. My lawyer sorted out the legal stuff, but the rest is untouched. Sam and the job kept me busy. I made a call earlier and asked for the things to be brought here. If there’s something of interest there to the perps, we'll find it.”
Gibbs nodded approvingly
“It’s mostly personal stuff. Books, photos, knick-knacks and small furniture.”
The team leader finished his part of the information presentation, “Morgan was very close-mouthed about the project, but he admitted that there have been attempts to breach security before. They’ll check on their end and report back to us.” Well, they would report something back to them if it was classified, not all of it.
DiNozzo must have been having similar thoughts because he grimaced and snorted dismissively. “I do so love it when the government plays super secret hush-hush games.” He turned to McGee and asked. “How hush-hush are we talking about?”
“Very.” It wasn’t the computer geek that answered.
Gibbs had been aware of the director coming down the stairs, so he didn’t react when the answer came from someone not in their little gathering.
Vance nodded at the team and handed a thin folder to Gibbs. “The possibility of a breach has alarmed a lot of people in high places. They are taking this very seriously and will send two of their people, a Major Harris and a Captain Nichols, to help you sort through everything Sergeant Peltier left behind. In fact, you have been ordered to let them do the initial work.”
“Any ideas what they are searching for?” David asked the question.
“None. And it has been made clear to me that we shouldn’t be interested in finding out. They will tell us if they find anything, that’s all we need to know.”
The team exchanged looks. What did the brass expect the late Sergeant to have written down in his private journals or hidden in his household accounts? Attack plans? Blueprints of weapons of mass destruction? Well, stranger things had happened. Gibbs didn’t like some strangers he couldn’t control interfering in his case, but the sour expression on the director’s face didn’t encourage protest so he let it slide, for now.
Vance looked around the squad room and his forehead wrinkle in concern. “Where’s the little one?”
Tony sent an incredulous look at the director. “We put her in conference room three with a big puzzle, some of her school books and Agent Qwan as company. I didn’t think it would be good to keep her here.” The nervous father gestured at his computer screen and the open window it displayed. “And McGee installed a monitoring camera, of course.”
Even Gibbs was surprised by the indulgent smile Vance showed and his nod. “Of course.”
“She’s checking up on me regularly, of course”
“You would prefer staying with her.” The director didn’t phrase it as a question but as a statement.
“Ah, well. Yes. But-“ Tony finally sat back in his chair and touched the scattered sheets of paper with his notes written on them that lay on the surface of his desk. “My input is still needed here.”
Vance nodded. “Remember, Agent DiNozzo: you are not allowed to compromise the case or I will have to assign it to another team.” The director waved at the team and returned to the stairs. “Play nice with the Colorado guys. And catch the bastards. Fast.”
Gibbs waited till the man disappeared upstairs before he took a look at the information he had been given. The file was very thin and included mainly a disc that he promptly handed to McGee.
The director had provided a short distraction, minutes later his team was bouncing ideas forth between each other.
“We forgot the always popular money angle.” Ziva pointed out.
“I told you, I am comfortably set, but by no means rich. I inherited my grandmother’s estate when she died. Sam’s funds are bound tightly, even the money from selling the Peltier’s house. There’s no way to get the needed amounts of cash to pay kidnappers fast enough. And my father…” Tony was shaking his head tiredly, not looking at any of his team-mates. “If they did enough research to know about Sam’s background they should have found out that the chances of my father paying ransom for her are slim to none.”
“Never underestimate the greed and stupidity of the common criminal.” Gibbs knew what his agent was alluding to and David’s slight nod indicated that she knew about it too, but their fourth member wasn’t in the loop. McGee looked from one to the other.
“Ok, what am I missing here?” McGee asked.
Gibbs didn’t answer the question, he preferred to leave the decision of how much to tell to DiNozzo. The computer specialist would be able to dig it up anyways, it wasn’t really a secret, the media had covered the incident.
“Emilio DiNozzo does not give in to criminals. Experience taught me that lesson, McGee. Kidnapped when I was a teenager. Father made it very clear that he wouldn’t pay the ransom.” Tony was keeping himself very still, only his fingers were slowly, nearly casually, following the lines of his jacket’s collar, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, checking if every one of them was still closed. “Said that if you give in once, they’ll come back for more. Police got me out. It was long ago so don’t look at me like that, nothing serious happened.” DiNozzo still wasn’t looking at any of them. “I’ll call my cousin and my father’s assistant, but you should concentrate on more likely angles.”
McGee had learned a lot in the last few years, how to say something appropriate to a distressed team mate hadn’t been among these new skills. “Tony, that must have been horrible.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Tony waved his hand dismissively. “It’s been a long time.”
“And most likely has no direct impact on our case. DiNozzo, talk with Sam about her stepfather, I’ll come up and witness the proceedings.” Gibbs turned to his other two agents. “McGee, see to it that some Marines guard the things DiNozzo asked to be delivered and try to find out how Sam's contact information was altered." The sudden official interest in the case had some advantages; they could act faster and didn't have to rely as much on Vance’s good will.
“David, contact the cabbie.” The next point made Gibbs grin dangerously. “And see to it that Reynolds is available for an interview, here at the Yard.”
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