Would the real David Jackson please stand up?

“Grab your gear, Dinozzo, Ziva.”
“What we got boss?”
“Dead marine, Bethesda Hospital.”
The two agents fell into stride behind Gibbs as he walked to the elevator.
“What happened?” Ziva wanted to know.
“We'll know when we get there.”

* * *

Gibbs showed his badge to the marine guarding the room. He stepped inside to find Ducky and Palmer already leaning over a bed where the man lay. Mallard glanced over,
“Morning Jethro.”
“Ducky.”
Gibbs walked to the bed and gazed down at the dead marine,
“Single bullet wound to the head through and through. His name's Corporal David Jackson.”
the medical examiner murmured,
“He'd just returned from Iraq. Ironic really, to have survived all that only to die in hospital back here.”
Ziva entered and said,
“Tony's speaking to hospital staff, but nobody seems to have heard or seen anything unusual anything. Not even when that happened.”
She pointed to the window, there was a hole approximately six inches from the top.
Gibbs grunted,
“Sniper then, positioned high. Must've been quite a distance.”
Ziva said,
“First shot, in the head. Whoever it was knew what he was doing.”
“You reckon?” Gibbs stalked out of the room. Ducky gave her a tight smile,
“Jethro is never happy about the possibility that a sniper might be involved. It reminds me of a similar case, oh about four years ago now.....”
“Ducky, I think Tony needs help with those interviews.” Ziva departed the room hastily.
“Mr Palmer, I believe Ziva finds my little anecdotes tiresome.”
“Can't think why.” The doctor gave him a suspicious look before returning his attention to the murdered man.

* * *

“Well McGee? What do we know about Jackson?”
“This was his second tour of duty in Iraq. He came back early after being wounded by an IED. He had shrapnel in his lower back and was shipped back over here for treatment.”
DiNozzo took up where Mcgee left off, “He was single, no parents, no siblings. Unblemished record, Purple Heart recipient after being shot in Baghdad on his first tour last year.”
McGee continued,
“No romantic involvements, lived on base in Georgia, popular but kept himself to himself most of the time.”
Gibbs glared around the room,
“And that's it?” He threw his coffee cup into the waste basket,
“Well he must have pissed somebody off. I want to know who.”
His desk phone buzzed and he snatched it up,
“Gibbs. Yeah Ducky, what, he what?” Gibbs strode out and headed for the elevator, “I'll be in the morgue if anybody wants me.”
“Judging by his mood, let's hope nobody wants him.” muttered McGee,
“I heard that.”

* * *

Gibbs walked into the examination room, Ducky was sat at his desk looking puzzled. He stood up when the other entered and went over to the murdered man's body.
“What the hell's going on Ducky?”
“I was rather hoping you'd be able to tell me, Jethro. Apart from the fatal bullet wound that shuffled our friend off this mortal coil he was in pristine condition.”
“But he was in Bethesda with shrapnel wounds.”
“Of which there are no signs whatsoever.” Mallard squinted up at Gibbs, “So this unfortunate chap was not David Jackson.”

* * *

Abby was about to call Gibbs when he arrived. She sighed,
“Gibbs, I don't know what to tell you. His prints and DNA match his service record, he was taken into Bethesda with shrapnel in his back. He was identified at the hospital by another marine who'd served with him in Iraq. This can't be anyone else but Jackson.”
Gibbs shook his head, “Not so, Abbs. The man in the morgue has no surgical scars at all and yet he was wounded in both tours in Iraq.”
“Something hinky going on?”
“Yeah and I need to know what.”
“Gibbs.” wailed Abby, “I can't work miracles, even the impossible, not without....”
As Gibbs walked out, he grinned, “Check your desk, Abby.” She turned and stared at the fresh Caf-Pow standing there. Turned back,
“How did you...?”
But he had disappeared.

* * *

*to be continued*
Part 2
“So if it wasn't Jackson, who the hell was it?” Ziva muttered,
“Somebody else.”
“Thanks Tony, that helps.”
Gibbs was staring at his computer screen, after a moment, he snapped his head back up,
“Somebody identified him at the hospital, another marine, I want him found, McGee.”
“'kay boss.”
“Tony and Ziva, background on Jackson, before he joined the marines. Everything you can find.”
He stared at them, “Did I say tomorrow?”
“Right boss.”
“On it.”
Gibbs stood, slipped on his jacket, “I'll be with Abby.”

* * *

Abby was hugging Bert and muttering as he farted,
“Yeah me too Bert.”
“Abby?”
“Gibbs – I might have something but I'm not sure how to explain it.”
“Try.”
“Right – the bullet in the pillow, the one that killed Jackson.”
“What about it?”
“Couldn't have.”
“Abbs that doesn't make sense.”
“It would if he was a deer.”
“Abby, you need to back off the caffeine for a while.”
“No, no, listen. I found two blood types on it. One was Jackson's and the other belonged to a deer.”
“A deer?” Gibbs was incredulous,
“Are you sure?”
“Gibbs, how could you doubt me?”
“Sorry Abbs. That was a good job.”
he kissed her cheek and she beamed as he left,
“Of course it was.”

* * *

“Gotcha,” muttered McGee.
“Who, McGoo?”
“On the plasma.”
They watched as McGee transferred the video from the hospital security camera to the squad room's plasma screen. “Okay, Elf lord, what are we looking at?”
Gibbs appeared out of nowhere and stood waiting for McGee to continue,
“It's the guy who identified the body.”
“And do we have a name, yet?”
“Running it now, boss.”
After a moment, McGee looked up from his screen,
“Erm, boss, you're not going to like this.”
Gibbs turned to him and said quietly, “Why not, McGee?”
“Well, I ran his image against Navy records.”
“And?”
“His name is David Jackson, Corporal David Jackson.”

* * *

Mallard was not impressed by this news,
“So a mix-up at the hospital?”
Gibbs nodded thoughtfully,
“Has to be, no way would they have had two men in the same unit with identical names.”
“I agree, but how did the live Jackson know the dead one?”
“As yet we don't know. The team are still running down everything they can find.”
“Even so, the dead Jackson was the one who should have been scarred.”
Gibbs looked at the medical examiner,
“You think Jackson deliberately switched dog tags with his namesake?”
“Then shot him, yes, it's a possibility.”
Jethro sighed, “Okay, for what reason?”
“I'm just a medical examiner, Jethro. You're the investigator.”
Gibbs gave a sour grin as he walked out of the door. Ducky went back to Jackson,
“Well, my dear fellow. You have certainly presented us with a pretty little puzzle here haven't you?”

* * *

“I'm not telling him.” snapped Ziva,
“You should do it McGeek – you found it.”
“Well, Tony, you're senior agent, you should tell him.”
A piercing whistle interrupted their furious argument and Gibbs said,
“Somebody better tell me something, McGee?”
The others breathed a quiet sigh of relief. McGee stuttered,
“There aren't two David Jacksons boss.”
Gibbs glowered at him, “Go on.”
“There's erm, three.”
Part 3

“Three? All of them marines, all corporals?”
McGee transferred the records onto the plasma screen and the agents shook their heads in disbelief. Tony spoke first, “Boss, I know you don't like coincidences but couldn't this be exactly that?”
“Not when you consider that the bullet we found didn't kill Jackson.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that somebody wanted to cover up the fact that a sniper's rifle might not have been the weapon used. Ziva, you're with me. DiNozzo and McGee – I want background on all three Jacksons.”
“Right boss.” they chorused.
In the car Ziva remarked,
“Gibbs, do you think this is some kind of cover over?”
Gibbs shrugged,
“What do you think?” Ziva was silent for a moment, marshalling her thoughts then said,
“The fact that there are three separate Naval files for three men with the same name implies that someone has security clearance high enough to access and alter or create fakes.”
“And?”
“And the murdered Jackson might have been part of a three man operation and he was killed on the bed but wasn't the original occupant of that bed.”
Gibbs nodded, made sense so far. He said,
“Why was he murdered then?”
“He was about to compromise the operation? His killer shot a hole in the window using a silencer then shot him. He would have to move quickly though.”
“How do you figure that?”
“The injured Jackson would have to be moved to a place of concealment, the murdered Jackson placed in the bed before being killed then his killer would have to leave the scene before the body was discovered.” “Or not leave at all.” “A hospital employee you mean?”
“No, a marine.”
Ziva stared,
“The guard?”
Gibbs said,
“Yeah, I thought one of those ID photos McGee dug up was familiar.” He shifted into higher gear and floored the accelerator. Ziva was slammed into the seat and reflected drily that the others could never again criticise her near suicidal driving techniques after this.

The marine now guarding the door frowned,
“Sorry sir, I was just asked to take over from the corporal. Didn't give me his name.”
“Okay marine, not your fault. Could you recognise him again?”
“Think so sir.”
“Hang on.” Gibbs took out his cell phone, called the squad room, “McGee? Can you send the photos of the Jackson three over to my phone?”
“No problem boss.” A few minutes later, the private pointed,
“That's the guy.”
“You sure?”
“Definite.”
Ziva walked back out of the murder victim's room,
“Gibbs – I know how he hid the first Jackson so quickly.” He went back in with her and she pointed silently to the laundry chute, he snarled,
“Dammit, what was the time of death?”
“Ducky said about three o'clock this morning. But the body wasn't found until six o'clock.”
She tipped her head to one side, “So he could have had time to get the injured man to another place, return here to identify the murdered man.”
“Where would he put the guy without endangering his life though?”
“Did he care?” Gibbs turned and strode quickly to the reception desk,
“What time is the laundry collected?”
The nurse stared,
“Usually about ten o'clock in the morning.” She looked at the clock, “About now, in fact...”

Ziva was already running for the elevator, Gibbs caught up and started down the stairs, indicated that she should follow him. At the basement, Gibbs watched in despair as a white van exited the building.
“Ziva, find out which laundry contractors they use and tell them to bring the van back. I'll call DiNozzo and McGee over here to process this scene. You take another look at the room, there should be glass on the floor if the shot was fired from outside.”
“It was though. Tony found and bagged fragments.”
“Has Abby checked them yet?”
“I don't know.”
“Okay, go get that van back.” She left at a run while Gibbs called the rest of his team over.

* * *
The laundry van reversed into the area and DiNozzo slapped a hand on its side to indicate it should stop. The driver jumped out, he wore a baseball cap and jacket with the legend 'Clean Ez' across them and tinted glasses,
“Did I miss a hamper?” he looked at Tony's badge, “Guess not, feds don't get called in for that.”
“Open the doors please.”
“Okay but might help if you told me what you're looking for.”
“A dead body.”
The driver stared, “Seriously?” He met Gibbs' stare, “You're not the humorous type.”
“Boss, we found Jackson number one.” Gibbs went over and looked at the man. The other Jackson had taken no risks. There was a bullet wound in the man's temple. McGee looked past Gibbs,
“Where's the driver?” The laundry van's wheels screeched as it raced through the engine. It spilled more laundry hampers onto the concrete floor. One of them contained another dead body. Gibbs ran a hand though his grizzled hair – this was turning into a complete and utter shambles.

* * *
The body was identified as the van's hapless driver. Abby confirmed that the round used was identical to the ones used to kill Jacksons One and Three. The team sat in the squad room and conferred. Tony started,
“The Jackson Three used the same name to slow us down – why?”
“Whatever they're doing needs time to execute which suggests that it might be something difficult to access but extremely valuable.” McGee opined,
Ziva carried on,
“Information, drugs, money? Jackson Two had access at high security level. We can assume his name is not Jackson.” “So we have a face but not a name.” stated Gibbs, “McGee?”
“Running it now boss.” “If he's this good, he probably won't appear on police record databases. I'll check other sources, driving license, passport control.” “
"Good DiNozzo. Ziva – you had a second look at the crime scene?” She nodded.
“And?”
“Nothing else, but the fact that he has killed his two partners suggests one thing to me.”
“Yeah, they outlived their usefulness, he's close to his goal and is tying up loose ends.”

“Abbs what you got for me?”
“Gibbs are you doing some kinda astral projection thing?
Gibbs gave her a quizzical look and she shook her head,
“Okay, but,” she held up a finger, “I will find out how you manage to turn up when I've just found something.”
He kissed the finger and grinned,
“No you won't.”
She placed fists on hips and said,
“Hmm, well those glass fragments from the hospital room floor are not from its window.”
She pointed to the computer display, “Their composition is totally out of whack with the standard make up of glass used in windows. Much too thin, more like test tube glass.”
“What else?” “
Did I say there was? Okay my mouth says nothing but my body language says too much, which is to say, I don't mean I'm only expressing myself using.....”
“Abby.”
"Sorry, Gibbs, okay, who handled the glass cut themselves on it and left enough blood for me to lift DNA from
it.”
“All we need is the DNA from a suspect to match it with, right? A suspect we don't have.”
“Aha!” cried Abby triumphantly, “Time for me to leave the temple. We DO have a suspect.”
“Who?”
“Somebody who didn't show up on record because he deleted them all. Or so he thought.” She spun around and picked up a lidded glass container from the work bench, “He forgot about the sperm bank. I have a friend who works there and helps the guys....”
“I get the feeling I don't want to know, Abbs.”
“Well, probably not but anyhow he...”
“He?”
“Yeah, he.. but you definitely don't want to know? Anyhow, I got in touch with him, sent a copy of the DNA structure over, he found a matching sample on record and fed-exed the sample over to me with the record and I double checked and the DNA definitely matches, hi Ziva.”
Ziva walked in and said,
“Gibbs, McGee and Tony haven't found any trace of,” she stopped and peered,
“Abby, is that what I think it is?”
“Yes it is and he would probably have needed a magazine and privacy to produce it.”
“His name, Abby?”
“Is Michael Stoner, Cyber Terrorism Defence Unit, Homeland Security. I checked databases that Tony and Timmy might not think of. The bank need full details of all donors including photographs. This is a man who wants his bloodline to continue, one way or another.”
“A popsicle pop? - yuck.” remarked Ziva.

* * *
DiNozzo glared, “McGlitch, why didn't you think of that?”
“I checked blood banks.”
“But not the other banks where other substances are frozen and stored.”
“It just didn't occur to me.” He said meditatively, “I wonder if Gibbs has - he's standing behind me, isn't he?”
“Yes he is and no he hasn't.” said Gibbs, “Grab your gear DiNozzo, Ziva you drive,”
“No she doesn't.” was Tony's view.
“I asked your opinion?”
“Not at all boss.”
“McGee, I want a background check on Stoner, known associates, possible links with terrorist organisations, bank details, cell phone records, anything that could give us an idea what he was up to and where he could be.”
“On it, boss.”
A knuckle whitening drive later, they showed their badges to the armed guards. Stepped out of the car which was then checked thoroughly as were the agents. Ziva gave a sigh as her ankle holster was discovered and the snub nosed revolver removed. Once inside, they were required to remove credit cards and all metal objects before passing through a portal.
The guard grinned at them, “Just in case anyone tries to smuggle flash drives, DVDs or CDs in or out of the facility. It's basically a giant magnet and will wipe anything clean including credit cards.”
“Jeez,” Tony muttered to Ziva, “They take their security seriously here.”
“If someone got into the system or downloaded sensitive information, they could cause a major disaster.” Ziva said, as she rehooked the Star of David around her neck.
“Hey, you two, you gonna stand there exercising your mouths all day?”.
“Mouth exercise over boss.” Ziva said nothing, just gave Tony a knowing grin.
Michael Stoner had taken vacation leave the previous week and was due to return in two days time. Gibbs obtained his address from the department head and asked,
“Is there any way Stoner could've smuggled sensitive data out of here?”
“You've been through the procedures on your way in, what d'you think?”
Ziva said, “That there is more than one way to skin a rat.”
“Cat, Ziva, more than one way to skin a cat.” sighed Tony.
Nevertheless, Ziva had a point and Gibbs nodded to him, “DiNozzo, any other way out of here, find it. Ziva, with me. Captain Stockley, I need to interview Stoner's associates here, fellow workers etc.”
“Okay, use my office.”
At the end of a very long day of interviews. Ziva and Gibbs sighed together. Tony had long since departed and was back at the squad room by this time. Ziva spoke first, “All we've learned is that he's a loner, keeps a diary and collects old books. His personnel records show a home address that doesn't exist any longer.”
“And the only time he talk to anybody is when he's just bought one of those books and likes to show it off.....” “Gibbs? What's wrong?”
Then Ziva realised, “We've been barking up the wrong bush haven't we?”
“Tree, Ziva.” murmured Gibbs absently, “But you're right. He didn't have to smuggle anything out through the metal detector – it would be on paper.” Gibbs flipped his phone open and called McGee's cell phone.
“Yeah boss?”
“You still in the office?”
“Yeah why?”
“Bookshops that specialise in old books. Stoner collected them.”
“Shops? Sorry, books you meant. Running it now, there's two close to you.”
“It'll be one of them, they'll have details of purchases on their databases yes?”
“Yes but...”
“But what McGee?”
“Well, strictly speaking we need a warrant to...”
“McGee, can you get into their records without being noticed or not?”
“Sure, even Tony could do that.”
Gibbs listened for a moment then said, “Tell DiNozzo to sit down again. Call me back when you get a hit.”

Ten minutes later, Gibbs's phone rang, he glanced at the display before answering, “What have you got McGee?” “Only one Michael Stoner listed at Holland Old Books.”
“Address?” McGee supplied the information and Gibbs said,
“See what else you can dig up.” He jerked his head at Ziva and strode to the door, she followed. Stoner's residence was a detached house in the suburbs. Gibbs stepped out of the car, drew his sidearm. Ziva was already moving silently to the window, weapon in hand. She glanced quickly in then pulled her head back, shook her head at Gibbs. He carefully tried the door handle, it turned easily and Gibbs pushed the door open. Signalled to Ziva to go left while he checked the other direction. Years of experience told as they entered and peeled away in a smooth, practised motion.
She soon said, “Clear.”
Gibbs nodded, “Clear.” and holstered his pistol. He pressed his lips together, “Looks like....”
“Stay where you are.” A man entered the house, revolver in hand, aimed at Ziva. She tensed and Gibbs shook his head slightly,
“Do as he says Ziva.” The man turned to Gibbs,
“Use your left hand, take out your gun and place it on the floor.”
Gibbs did this and said, “Take it easy, Stoner. Nobody needs to get hurt here. Especially the little lady.”
She glared at him then gave a quick grin. Stoner would have the mindset that she was small and therefore harmless once unarmed. The former assassin recognised the opportunity being offered and quavered,
“I don't want anyone to get hurt Michael. I'll just put the gun on the floor like Mr Gibbs.”
As Ziva bent down to do this, Gibbs remarked,
“Careless of you to leave address details at that bookshop.” Stoner turned to him once she slid the gun over. His attention was now on Gibbs and Ziva drew a knife and threw in one fluid movement, it pierced Stoner's gun-hand, he screamed, the revolver barked once before falling from his hand. She went to him as he swung a clumsy punch, ducked inside his fist, locked his arm and bore him to the ground. She tugged out handcuffs, demanded he place his arms behind his back and cuffed him.
Then she turned to Gibbs, “Little la..? Oh my God, Gibbs are you okay?” The other agent was sitting on the floor, hand clapped over his left arm, blood trickling through his fingers. He grimaced,
“I'm fine, just a nick, that's all.” She nodded, went back to Stoner and hauled him to his feet. He gave Gibbs an astonished look and he grinned,
“Hell hath no fury like a little lady scorned.”
“Enough already, Gibbs.”

In the interrogation room, Stoner sat alone. Behind the darkened glass panel, Tony muttered,
“I give him half an hour tops.”
“He winged Gibbs, fifteen minutes.” replied McGee.
“Ah, yeah, forgot about that.” Gibbs entered the interrogation room, one arm in a sling. Slapped a file down on the desk. Silently pulled out photographs of the three murder victims. Sat and glared at Stoner without speaking
“How long did you say, McGurgle?"
“Fifteen minutes but he might last longer.”
“Changing houses mid-race?” remarked Ziva as she came in. DiNozzo and McGee just looked at each other and sighed. Then Tony asked,
“You turned his place over already?”
“Not difficult. He had hardly any books there at all.”
“What? But he bought them on a regular basis.” snapped Tony then he said to McGee, “How long has he been buying them?”
“And when did he start?”
“And when did he start working at the Cyber Terrorism Unit?” The three agents walked quickly out of the room and back to their workstations.
An hour later Gibbs entered the squad room to find them grinning like idiots, “Someone win the lottery or something?”
“Nearly as good boss. Did he crack?”
“Naw, but I'll let him stew a while longer. Now why are you grinning like a ***** on....”
“Gibbs, I'm shocked.” murmured Ziva, he quirked a smile,
“Okay, but somebody had better tell me something before they burst.”
“You start McGoo.”
“Thank you Tony. Boss, Ziva searched Stoner's place and found hardly any books old or new. Which means he either hid them very effectively.”
“Not from me.”
“My thoughts exactly, boss. Ziva's ninja skills are famous.”
“DiNozzo, do you intend to finish before my retirement party?”
“Okay, so if he didn't hoard them, he gave them away.”
“Or passed them on to somebody else.” muttered Gibbs, “Oldest trick in the book. We were concentrating too much on the smuggling out of one of those doo-dads. While he was taking data from the computers, writing it into books he just bought and carrying it through right under the security's noses.”
“What's the connection with the other two Jacksons though?” Tony wondered.
“Couriers.” said Ziva, “He couldn't risk anyone spotting a pattern so he would sometimes drop the books at a prearranged location, sometimes give the other Jacksons the job of delivering the books.”
“Good Ziva, so what else?” nodded Gibbs.
DiNozzo said, “Well he started buying the books at the same time he began work at the Unit. McGurgle checked.” “And now all we need is the name of his contact and what was being passed on.”
“Agent Gibbs, my office please.” Director Vance was gazing down at the group.
“We'll carry on digging boss.”
“No you won't.” Vance snapped. The three agents just nodded and Gibbs tightened his lips as he climbed the stairs. “Camp fire?” murmured McGee and Gibbs grinned as he watched his team roll their chairs into a huddle.
“National security's my guess.”
“No kidding McGiggle.”
“Be quiet, Tony. Go on Timothy.”

In Vance's office, the director sat in his chair, “No use glaring at me Jethro, this is now on a need to know basis.” Gibbs leaned on Vance's desk,
“Well I need to know why three men died, Leon.”
“Not your problem any more.”
“Like hell it isn't!”
“Like hell or anywhere else. It is not your problem. You and your team are off the case.”
“What?”
“You heard. It now falls under Homeland Security's jurisdiction.” Gibbs slammed the door on the way out. Vance frowned. The agent wasn't usually this out of control and it worried him.

Gibbs stared around at an empty squad room and smiled quietly. He was teaching them bad habits and it pleased him that they had learned so well. He demanded discipline from those under him because it saved lives in the long run, but sometimes a little rebellion worked wonders. His phone beeped and he read the text message, nodded and sat at his desk. DiNozzo had worked it out first. He liked them all in that they had skills that complemented each other perfectly and made them such a good team. The books Ziva had found were all old atlases and they were currently back at Stoner's house examining them. Gibbs stood and went back to the interrogation room. Vance had said nothing about when Stoner was to be handed over and he intended to make use of whatever time was left.

“Here and here.” muttered DiNozzo, “He's marked places in Afghanistan and Pakistan.”
McGee was frowning as he flipped open Stoner's diary, “Keeps saying 'lack a day' at the end of certain weeks but it gets weirder.”
“Than saying lack a day, McGee?”
“Hmm, he spelled it dee a why e.” He dropped the diary into an evidence bag and went to look over Tony's shoulder. After a moment he shouted,
“Aha.” DiNozzo snarled, “McLoud, you damn near burst an ear-drum then, what the hell's wrong with you?”
“Nothing, 'lack a daye' is an anagram. Phonetically pronounced of course.”
“Oh, of course.”
“It can be converted into the word 'Al Qaeda'.”

In the interrogation room, Gibbs sat down again and said,
“They know.”
“Who does?”
“My team, they worked it out. You're dropping off books with information taken from the Cyber Terrorism computers. That's called treason.”
“Not if you knew all the reasons behind it.”
“So tell me the reasons.”
“Can't do that.”
For the next half hour, Gibbs grilled Stoner but could extract nothing from the man. The door opened and Vance said calmly,
“Agent Gibbs, a moment of your time please.” Once outside he hissed, “What the hell are you playing at, Jethro. I said Homeland Security were taking over this case. Which part of that did you not understand, former agent Gibbs?” “That son of a ***** killed two marines and a civilian.” said Gibbs tightly, “And I want to know why, Leon”
McGee and DiNozzo entered the corridor, exchanged glances and said in unison,
“Train wreck.” turned and left.

Back in the squad room, Ziva and DiNozzo pored over a more recent map of the Middle East while McGee continued to research Stoner's background.
“According to his diary, he's due to make the next and probable last drop tomorrow.” murmured Tony, “My guess is this will be the final piece in a puzzle we don't have a picture for.”
“Oh yes we do.” smiled McGee,
“McGoogle – the font of all information.” said DiNozzo, “Speak Yoda.”
“Tony,” snapped Ziva, “No movie references please.”
“Shortly after each drop, an extremist cell was exposed and killed in fire-fights.”
“Al Qaeda?”
“Not every time. In Britain, the dissident IRA suffered losses as well. He marks them with the anagram 'Ida R.'”
“Who carried out the raids?”
“Hard to say, but it looks as though some members of our special forces and British SAS were involved.”
“A force within a force you mean, like 'Magnum Force' with Clint Eastwood, ouch!”
Ziva had punched him on the arm and hissed, “I said no more movie references.” She smiled sweetly at McGee, “Go on Timothy.”
“His last entry has another phrase and I think he hit the mother lode this time. 'Lab in den' sound familiar to you?”

Gibbs appeared, flanked by Director Vance, “Yes it does, McGee and that's as far as it goes – it's just a theory. Homeland Security are taking over the case.
“Boss?”
“You heard the man. We're to hand over all evidence, notebooks, photographs and everything taken from Stoner's house.”
“But boss.”
“Don't argue.” The agents dropped all the physical evidence they had in the squad room into a box and Gibbs turned to Vance,
“Happy now Director?” Vance picked up the box,
“Ecstatic. Sorry Jethro.”
“Leon?”
"Yeah Gibbs?”
“You know this isn't over?”
“I'd better not hear any more about it.” Vance glared around the room, “From anybody.”

* * * *

Gibbs sat alone in the squad room. It was dark, the only illumination came from his computer screen throwing his face into sharp relief. He sent his team home early and they had grumbled their way out of the building. He understood their frustration, even with his rebellious nature, Gibbs had only ever broken the unwritten rule once about killing when not ordered to and that had been in Mexico a lifetime ago. He believed it was a bad idea to give rogue special forces' members carte blanche to attack and kill suspected terrorists.

Gibbs pulled out the hip flask with his dead wife and daughter's names on and whispered,
“Don't worry guys, we'll be together again one day. Evening Abby.”
She just shook her head, placed her arms around his neck and kissed his head, didn't speak. This was one of Gibbs' rules to which he hadn't assigned a number – you did not speak when he was communing with his dead wife and daughter. Finally he put the flask away and said,
“Go home Abbs – it's been a long day.” She went to the elevator, the doors hissed open and closed again after her. Gibbs looked up, Vance stood on the landing looking down at him and he grinned without humour. He and the director both knew this was not over yet. But, as DiNozzo might quote from 'Gone With The Wind' – tomorrow was another day.

The End (for now).