Chapter Three
Robert Johanssen was a quiet, unassuming man in his forties. He was medium height and build, with reddish hair and a receding hairline. He sat in the interrogation room, fidgeting nervously, while Gibbs and Fornell observed him from the other room.
"Looks harmless," Fornell commented.
Gibbs grunted.
"You're not going to interrogate him, are you?"
Gibbs didn't say anything, but continued staring at the man in the other room.
"You'll kill him, Jethro, you know you will," warned the other agent. "If there's any chance he's involved in DiNozzo's disappearance you won't be able to hold yourself back."
"You scare him too much he'll clam up and you'll never find DiNozzo in time." Fornell's voice was taking on an edge of frustration. "Let me talk to him, Jethro. If he knows where your guy is, I'll get the information from him."
"Okay."
"Come on, Gibbs, will you…what?"
Gibbs turned to his friend. "I said, 'okay'. You interrogate him. Help me find Tony."
The two men locked eyes for a moment, then Fornell nodded and left the room.
~0~0~0~0~
Johanssen looked up nervously as the door opened and the agent who brought him in entered the room. Taking a seat across the table, Fornell folded his hands and leaned on the table. He looked steadily into Johanssen's eyes, making the other man squirm as the minutes passed without a word being spoken.
Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, the suspect spoke up. "Why am I here? What did I do?"
Fornell cocked his head and looked thoughtfully at the other man. "We believe you have information on the whereabouts of a missing Federal Agent."
Johanssen looked surprised. "What? I don't know what you're talking about." He shifted nervously in his seat.
"Where were you last night, Mr Johanssen?"
The suspect shrugged. "I went out to a bar, had a drink, then went home."
"Did you go home alone?"
"Yeah, I did."
"We heard you followed a couple out of the bar, Mr. Johanssen. We have a witness to that fact," Fornell said calmly.
Perspiration began to dot the other man's forehead. "Well, I might have met up with some friends, but I didn't stay out long."
"Do you know Robert Cresswell?"
Johanssen's face became guarded. "Who?"
"Robert Cresswell," Fornell replied. "He's from Wyoming. He's a suspect in a number of murders. Ritual sacrifices."
Johanssen swallowed nervously. "Sacrifices?"
"Yeah, the guy thinks he's the physical embodiment of some strange demon. He has a bunch of followers, mindless people who do what he tells them to do." Fornell leaned back in his chair, his hands crossed against his stomach. "You know him?"
Johanssen shook his head.
"No?" Fornell arched an eyebrow. "Cresswell and his minions aren't your new friends? You're not one of his mindless followers?"
The suspect pulled at his collar. "It's kind of hot in here, can I get some water?"
"Sure," agreed Fornell, "I'll have them bring some water in. In the meantime, let's look at some pictures."
He opened up a file and pulled out the autopsy pictures of the victim in Ducky's lab, spreading them out on the table in front of Johanssen. The other man's face paled as he looked at the gruesome pictures.
"This is one of their victims, Johanssen," said Fornell in a conversational tone. "They sewed his eyelids shut and then tortured him for days, before they finally cut his heart out. The coroner said that the victim was still alive when they cut his heart out. I don't know how, but there's ways of telling something like that, post mortem."
Johanssen seemed to have trouble breathing, perspiration was now pouring off his face. "I really need some water, I think I'm going to be sick."
"All right, all right," said Fornell, rising. "I'll be right back." He left the photos on the table and walked out of the room.
Gibbs met him in the corridor. "He knows something."
"Yeah," agreed Fornell, "and he's scared to death."
McGee approached the two men. "Johanssen's lawyer's here. He's insisting on getting his client out of here. He says we haven't charged him with anything, so we have no right to hold him."
"Like hell we're letting him go," Gibbs growled.
"Jethro," Fornell said, thoughtfully, "we really don't have any proof that he followed Tony and that woman out of the bar, but we have enough probable cause to get a wiretap put on his phone."
Gibbs looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
~0~0~0~0~
A few hours later, Abby was talking to McGee and Ziva when Agent Fornell came into the squad room. Gibbs stood up. "Got something?"
"It didn't take long," Fornell said. "Johanssen got a call." He pulled out a tape recorder.
"It's bad," he warned, turning on the machine.
There was brief silence then Johanssen's voice.
Hello?
Robert.
Master, I've been waiting for you to call.
What did you tell the FBI?
Nothing, Master, I swear.
Nothing?
They could hear the sound of chanting in the background. Abby moved closer to McGee, who put his arms around her for comfort.
They know about the family, Master. They know your name.
Yes, I know that. They've been hounding us for years.
Master, your sacrifice...he's a Federal Agent.
The Master was briefly silent as the chanting grew louder.
That's...unfortunate.
The chanting rose in volume when suddenly there was a scream. Abby grabbed McGee's arm as everyone jumped at the sound. Even though the screams were hoarse, desperate, inarticulate sounds, they recognized the voice.
We'll finish soon, and then we'll leave.
I'm coming with you, right, Master?
Of course, my son, you've been a good child. You'll come with us, someone will come get you when we're ready to move on.
Thank you, Master.
The call ended abruptly. Nobody moved for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was Abby's sobbing as she clung to McGee. The agent looked as if he was about to cry as well.
Gibbs expression was hard. "Were you able to trace the call?" he asked Fornell.
Fornell shook his head. "It came from a no-name cell phone. No way to trace it."
"Damn it." Gibbs hit his desk in frustration. "We bring Johanssen back in here. I'll interrogate him."
"Jethro," interrupted Fornell, "he might not know where they are. They're going to pick him up."
"They might not want him followed by the FBI, or us," replied Gibbs. "We need to talk to him again."
"I have my people picking him up right now." Fornell smiled at Gibbs. "I figured you'd want another crack at him. Hell, after hearing that, I want another crack at him."
McGee's phone rang; he answered it and listened for a minute. "Boss, Johanssen has a house out in the country, about 30 minutes away from here," he said excitedly, hanging up the phone.
Fornell said, "I'll call a team up; give us the location and we'll rendezvous with you up there."
Gibbs nodded. "Ziva, go get Rucker's team, we're going to check out this place. McGee, give the location to Fornell."
"Right, Boss."
Author's Chapter Notes:
A suspect is questioned and fears are confirmed.
Chapter End Notes:
Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, the characters from the show belong to someone else. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Tweeter's writing again... run away, Tony, run away! Blessings upon my lovely beta Rinne, who's being inundated by the fruits of my manic writing.
A/N: Tweeter's writing again... run away, Tony, run away! Blessings upon my lovely beta Rinne, who's being inundated by the fruits of my manic writing.