GIBBS’ BASEMENT

Fornell listened to the sound of Sam moving around upstairs. He looked across at Gibbs. “What are you going to do now that Mentxaka is dead?”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, but didn’t answer.

“There’s no real need for Sam to stay here now.” He grinned slyly at his friend. “Unless, of course, there are other attractions. You have developed a considerable corporation.” Fornell laughed out loud as Gibbs instinctively sucked in his stomach, then jumped when Sam spoke from where she stood on the stairs.

“I don’t see you turning down any free feeds, Tobias.”

Tobias glared at Gibbs. “You’ve been teaching her to sneak around like you do?”

Sam chuckled softly as she stepped down into the basement. She walked across to the work bench and put down the tray with coffee and cookies she was carrying.

“Gibbs has told you what we suspect of Amaia?”

Fornell took a cup of coffee. He sipped, then nodded. “Yes. And if it is true, then you probably aren’t safe yet.”

Sam pulled a sour face. “The problem is that we have diddly squat that would stand up in court. What we have is circumstantial at best; pure conjecture at worst.”

Fornell put his coffee down. “When did you and Ziva begin to suspect Amaia?”

“I can’t speak for Ziva, but my suspicions were raised at the crime scene. Amaia’s reactions were totally different to when we found Ros. Then she was stunned, shocked, as we all were. With Mentxaka she went histrionic. That is not Amaia at all.”

“Could simply be death of a friend versus death of a lover. Different reaction.”

Gibbs shook his head. “It felt off, Tobias.”

Sam nodded her agreement. “Very off. It was as if Amaia was reacting in the way she thought we thought she should react. Her performance would not have won her an Oscar nomination.”

“Ham?”

“The whole damn pig!”

Fornell laughed shortly and took a swig of his coffee. “What surprises me is that a honey trap could be a killer.”

Sam shook her head. “Amaia is a lot of things, but not a honey trap.”

Gibbs agreed. “She is too strong, Tobias, to be taking orders from others.”

“You weren’t there when Mentxaka assaulted me,” Sam said softly, rubbing the wrist that Mentxaka had tried to break. “Amaia stood behind him. Her eyes were as cold and as deadly as his. She was not afraid of him or afraid for me. Amaia would have stood by and let him kill me.” Her smile was tight. “Amaia forgot that Ros was there. Ros always disappeared when there was any kind of confrontation. Amaia did not expect Ros to intervene with a gun in her fist.”

“But she did,” Fornell said softly. “And as far as Mentxaka was concerned, that signed her death warrant.”

“No!” Sam fairly snarled, “Your director did that! With his stupid insistence on playing the op so close to his chest. If the team had known who Mentxaka really was, Ros would NEVER have gone hunting for information.”

“We’re a team, Tobias,” Gibbs said softly. “The FBI should have brought us in as a whole package.”

“But Mentxaka would have fled, possibly Amaia too. We would never know what the terrorists plan was.”

“Everything has been so fouled up by unnecessary secrecy that we still may never know. And Ros may still have been alive.” Sam’s voice choked with emotion. Putting down her coffee cup, she turned away from the men for a moment. Both men took a keen interest in the contents of their cups. Wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands, Sam turned back towards them. She picked up her cup and took a long swallow.

“You know what the root of the problem really is, Tobias?”

“What?”

“You don’t actually understand the concept of team work. In all the time I have been at NCIS, I have never seen you with a team. Every time you turn up you are with different people. You have no-one around you to rely on. To work closely with. To trust. I don’t think your director understands this either. Otherwise your operations wouldn’t get out of control the way they do.”

Fornell opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then closed it again. He swirled the contents of his cup around for a moment, then sighed. “The FBI doesn’t work the same way as NCIS does.”

“To its detriment,” Sam said softly. A close knit team will cover more ground more thoroughly than a mere group of individuals who are trying to one-up each other.”

Sam looked from Fornell to Gibbs and back again. “When I came to NCIS, I did not trust authority; I could not work with a team. I’d been stabbed in the back by colleagues once too often. Gibbs, Tony, Tim, Ziva…they taught me what a true team should be. They taught me how to function within a team. Maybe that’s why I can recognize where your director, and you, are going wrong. An individual will never succeed the way a team will.”

“There’s no I in team,” Gibbs said softly.

“Exactly. And you taught me that. You taught me to take responsibility for my ideas and my actions. You encouraged me to become the best I could be within a team framework.”

“If this gets anymore cloying,” Fornell muttered, “I’m going to need a bucket!”

Sam laughed and stood up. She picked up her mug and the tray. “Good night, gentlemen. I’m going to bed. Enjoy your coffee and the cookies…and your bourbon.”

Both men watched her go up the stairs.

“She’s right, Tobias.”

Fornell sighed. “I know. But it’s too late for me to change. Or Director Hutchins. For better or worse, it’s the way we function.”

“Better hope it doesn’t get any worse.”

Fornell snorted. “It couldn’t get any worse!”

Gibbs looked at him. “You sure about that?”

NCIS SQUADROOM – NEXT MORNING

Tim and Ziva were at their desks when Gibbs and Sam entered the squad room. Gibbs went straight upstairs to Vance’s office.

Sam pottered around settling in for the day.

Tim looked across at Sam. “Ziva’s been telling me that you both suspect Amaia of having murdered Kepa Urkullu.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

“It makes sense to me.” He grinned. “Don’t know what Tony will make of the idea, though.”

“Where is Tony? He’d already gone when we left last night.”

“He got a phone call. Said it was an emergency and left. Probably one of his girlfriends misplaced her underwear at his place.”

“Tim, you are far too young to be that cynical,” Sam laughed.

“I stopped being young when I started working with Tony and Gibbs.”

Sam and Ziva both laughed.

The phone rang on Gibbs’ desk. Sam answered it. “Agent Gibbs’ desk.”

“Sam?”

“Tobias?”

“Where’s Gibbs?”

“With the Director.”

“Listen. We’ve got a problem. Agent Metcalfe hasn’t shown up for work this morning. Others in the office said he got a phone call and left hurriedly last night.”

Sam turned slowly and looked at Tony’s desk.

“Sam? Sam?”

“Tobias, I think you and your director had better get over here immediately.”

“What?”

“Tony hasn’t turned up. He left here last night under similar circumstances.”

“Crap!”

Fornell cut the call.

Sam turned and looked at Tim. “Tim, I think you’d better put out a BOLO on Tony’s car.”

McGee looked up at Sam. She was looking at Tony’s desk.

Ziva stepped around from her desk. “Why?”

Sam spoke slowly. “An FBI agent who Amaia was friendly with has not turned up for work this morning. He also got a mysterious phone call yesterday.”

“Crap! I’m on it,” Tim said.

Ziva was now staring at Tony’s desk. “You think Amaia….?”

“I don’t know. I’m going upstairs to talk with Vance and Gibbs.” She almost ran up the stairs. Sam stopped halfway and turned around. “Ziva, you might want to give Langley a call. See if Trent Kort turned up for work today.”

Tim and Ziva looked at each other.

“Kort as well?” Tim looked faintly sick.

“Yeah,” Sam said, “Amaia isn’t one to hide her light under a bushel.”


DIRECTOR VANCE’S OFFICE

Both men looked up as Sam entered the room.

“This is getting to be a habit, Wallace,” Vance said reprovingly.

“Sorry sir. We’ve just had a call from Fornell. Apparently Agent Metcalfe hasn’t turned up this morning. He took a mystery phone call yesterday and left claiming it was an emergency. The same thing happened to Tony…”

Gibbs and Vance got to their feet, consternation showing on their faces.

“Tim is putting out a BOLO on Tony’s car. Ziva is calling Langley. Just in case Trent Kort is AWOL this morning as well. Fornell and Director Hutchins are on their way here.”

“Good work, Wallace.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sam left the office.

“What the hell is that woman doing?”Vance exploded.

“Covering her ass,” Gibbs said bluntly. “She knows we’re on to her.”

“What can she do though? She can’t hold three men hostage.”

“Amaia won’t be alone, Leon,” Gibbs said quietly. “She’ll have a cell to help her.”

Vance swore pungently. “I’d focused so much on the murders, that I forgot about Bengoa allegedly being a terrorist.”

“I think it’s gone past ‘allegedly’, Leon,” Gibbs said quietly.

Vance sighed and nodded. “Time to bring the team into the loop.”

“Should’ve been from the beginning.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

Both men exited the office.

NCIS SQUAD ROOM

Ziva, McGee and Sam looked up as Vance and Gibbs came down the stairs. Vance beckoned them to him. “There are some things, McGee, David, that you need to know. Wallace is already aware of them.”

Vance took a deep breath. “Kepa Urkulla was actually a man named Eneko Mentxaka. A former member of the Basque terror group ETA, then a member of a new terrorist organization called the International Army of Liberty. It is our belief,” he indicated Gibbs and Sam, “that Bengoa is also a member of this organization, possibly a senior one. It is also possible that she is behind the disappearance of Agents DiNozzo and Metcalfe.”

A voice spoke acidly, “This is your idea of security, Leon?”

“No, Barry, it’s my idea of giving my people the information they need to do their jobs properly. You may prefer to treat your people like mushrooms, but mine work best in the clear light of day.”

Barry Hutchins snorted. “You are compromising the security of this operation.”

“What security?” Sam chipped in. “The FBI screwed the pooch from the moment they let Mentxaka escape from them. This operation has been about as secure as a bent safety pin.”

Hutchins glared at Sam. Sam glared back.

Ziva’s phone rang. She listened for a moment, spoke quietly then hung up. “Director.” Vance turned to her. “That was the CIA. Director Kirkwood is on his way here. Kort did not arrive at Langley this morning.”

“Getting crowded under that bushel,” McGee muttered.

Abby came bouncing into the squad room. “Guys! Guys! You’ll never guess what. I got a hit on Kepa Urkulla in the Interpol database, he’s….”

“A Basque terrorist whose real name is Eneko Mentxaka.”

“Way to go, McGee. Rain on a girl’s parade why don’t you?”

McGee’s phone rang before he could think up a suitable answer. He grabbed it, listened for a moment and scrambled for pen and paper. “Okay. Yeah. Got it. Thanks.” Hanging up, he turned to the others. “Police have found Tony’s car. It was abandoned with its driver’s door left swinging open.”

“Where?” Ziva asked.

McGee read out an address in Logan Circle. Sam yelped. “That’s where we were living.”

“Grab your gear,” Gibbs snapped. “We’ve got a crime scene