Nine Lives, Part One
by Sammie

Disclaimer: Own...? "That's funny, Gibbs. Funny. WRONG. But funny." Neither fandom is mine. There are some verbatim quotes.
In addition, because of the amount of fanfiction I've read, there are most likely scenes and statements that look familiar. I apologize beforehand. I had no intention whatsover of ripping anyone off - your story was so incredible that those little things stuck out clearly, even in my Swiss-cheese memory.
Kathryn, Peter, and Jaime Lin are mine, and that's it.

In this story our Kate is spelled "Cate" because at the time I wasn't sure how the nickname should have been spelled (plus there's another Kate in the story, based on a canon character).

Summary: A Marine major temporarily stationed in New York for a covert operation disappears just days before her assignment.

Author's Note: A two-part story; first part is a "NCIS"/"Without a Trace" crossover. Part two is exclusively "NCIS."

The flashback scenes so common in "Trace" are in italics. I borrow a character from a third fandom (but with full introduction, as if a new character), and there is a teeny weeny reference to another fic (another fandom), but neither are big enough to be confusing.

For those who are unfamiliar with one of the fandoms, I have used these two sites as references. My lack of character development is all my own; decent characterization must be credited to these two dossier sites for their help. Neither site is mine.
"Without a Trace": / dossier.htm.
"NCIS": / characters.htm
Please remove the spaces before and after the slashes in the web addresses. That's the only way I can make the link show up.

---

"...at 1700. I'll need you to check the money for authenticity when you get it," the bespectacled man continued.

She nodded once.

"I remind you that this assignment is of the utmost importance," the man commented, looking over his bifocals and across his desk to the young woman sitting in the chair in front of him."These Marines have been held for over three months."

The young woman, sitting ramrod straight in the chair, just gave him a nonchalant look. "I know. It was in the file," she replied coolly.

The man shrugged. "Do you have any questions?"

"Where will the pickup be?"

"They're still working that one out. Come by in two days?" The man looked at her expectantly, and she nodded. "Are there any further questions?"

"No sir." The woman stood up at attention.

"I'll be in contact, then. You are dismissed."

The woman turned on her heel and strode out the door.

---

NAVAL STATION, NEW YORK CITY

Jack Malone flashed his badge at the Marine at the gateway of the small naval station and headed inside, going to the office. His eyes took in the Navy markings and nodded to his agent as the younger man approached.

"Bring back memories?" Martin Fitzgerald grinned.

Jack shrugged, a trace smile on his face. "Eh, Army was better," he replied, getting a bigger grin out of the younger man. "What's going on?"

"Marine Major Kathryn Jalun Lin," Martin replied, reading from his little notepad. "She was supposed to report at 7:30 this morning for a meeting and didn't show."

Jack shrugged, obviously not understanding why they were even there. "We're looking for a UA Marine?" he asked, his tone a little annoyed and incredulous.

Martin shook his head, a tiny smile of fascinated curiousity crossing his face. "Major Lin...is with the Defense Intelligence Agency." That got an interested look out of Jack. "She's here on assignment, too."

"Who was she supposed to report to?"

"Uh," Martin checked his notapd. "James Stockwell."

Jack frowned. "Civilian?"

Martin nodded, then turned and pointed at a building some distance away. "He's keeping an office over there. He's still there, if you want to talk to him."

"What else?"

"Nothing else. Other than what I just told you, it is 'need to know,' and apparently, I don't." Martin's expression was a mix of both amusement and annoyance.

Jack chuckled. "I'll see what I can do, but military brass and 'need to know' translates into 'we're out of luck.' I'll talk to Stockwell. You see if you can't get anything from the people here on base. Get Danny to help you."

Jack was about to head off when he saw his junior agent hesitate. "What?"

The man shrugged, then looked up. "Look, I know that the Army CID came to find you, and that's why we looked for PFC Grant, but this - is this even in our jurisdiction?" the younger man asked. "I mean, she's an on-duty Marine major. Isn't that NIS? Or the MPs?"

"NCIS," Jack corrected, then continued, "You want to leave a missing intelligence agent to retread cops and ex-MPs?"

Martin fidgeted a little and then shrugged.

Jack turned back around and headed over to the youger man. "What?" he asked, looking at the concerned look on Martin's face.

Martin looked at him, then made a face. "Apparently...her disappearance was already called in to the military police," he replied finally. "Some lady was already on the phone while I was still trying to get information. My guess is that NI - NCIS will be up here any minute."

"Are they sending a team up?"

Martin shrugged. "I don't know."

"So why do you look so worried?" Jack asked, shrugging nonchalantly.

Martin sighed and rubbed his forehead. "There are...rumors...legend...something floating around DC about one of the teams," he finally said softly.

Jack crossed his arms and looked up at his agent expectantly.

Martin continued, "Something about one of the agents - ex-Marine, ex-MP, scary as h-ll, with a team as nuts as he is. He's supposedly really good, so if they're going to send anyone, they're going to send him." He shrugged. "Gibbs, or something. Had a few run-ins with the FBI, got the upper-hand on them more times than not."

"I survived Chris Larabee," Jack muttered, a comment that brought an amused chuckle out of Martin. "Can he be worse?" Jack finally looked back up at his agent. "This info from your people down in Washington?"

"Do you want me to make calls?" Martin asked.

"We'll deal with...Agent Gibbs...if he comes. That's a big if." Jack nodded at Martin's notepad. "We check out Maj. Lin's apartment?"

"Samantha and Vivian are there, and they said it looks like no one's been there in three days. Plus, Lin's only been living there six months."

"Before that?"

"Washington."

Jack nodded. "Check everything you can about Washington, get one of the teams down there to check it out."

---

NCIS HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, DC

"We're booked on a flight out of Reagan in an hour and a half," Gibbs called as he rounded his desk and headed out. "You've got an hour to get down there."

Tony and Cate looked at each other and then grabbed their things and shut down their computers, hurrying after him. "What's going on?" Cate asked as they all squeezed into the elevator.

"Marine went UA in New York."

Tony made a face. "We're going after a UA Marine?"

"She was slated to do a 'need-to-know' assignment for State Department in five days," Gibbs replied.

"Oooh," Tony replied, his interested piqued. "That's different."

"Yeah, I thought so."

---

MAJ. LIN'S APARTMENT, NYC

"She doesn't seem like a very girly person," Samantha murmured as she poked around the bedroom and looked into the bureau.

"She's a Marine, Sam," Vivian replied as she poked through the refrigerator. Various kinds vegetables, including a few she guessed must've been Asian, and fruit dotted the refrigerator; a gallon of milk; some cheese, peanut butter. In the freezer was meat. "She cooks, though."

"Well, gotta eat to survive," Samantha replied, getting a look from Vivian. She took a step back to examine the open closet. "Everything in here is Marine uniforms and a couple jeans and sweatshirts and stuff."

"Well, it seems she didn't plan to stay through the summer," Vivian commented. "No summer clothes."

"Very utilitarian," Samantha commented as she examined the bed. It was a double bed, made up and neat. She popped up the mattress and started to peek underneath. "It would help if the woman would keep a diary or some photos or something around." Her hand hit a small, flat envelope, and she pulled it out.

"Certainly wasn't going to stay long," Vivian replied. "What've you got?"

Samantha pulled the photo out of the envelope and then held it up to Vivian. As she set the mattress back down, she furrowed her brow and leaned in a little closer and took a whiff. "There's a man's cologne on here."

Vivian looked up from the photo. "You recognize what kind?"

Samantha shook her head. "I'll get some people to come down here and look." She got and looked over the older woman's shoulder at the photo. "Think it's him? He's a cute one."

Vivian held up the photo in front of her. In it was a young version of the major, smiling, wrapped in the arms of a taller man who was smiling as widely as she was. She shook her head and pointed at the date on the bottom of the photo. "I'm not sure. The picture is seven years old; you'd think if they were together she would keep a more recent photo."

Samantha held out a bag, and Vivian popped the photo and the envelope inside.

---

REAGAN AIRPORT

"What are our tickets?"

"Row 43, A, B, and C," Cate read from the tickets.

"So who wants to sit with the random weirdo?" Tony grinned.

"You can, Tony," Cate replied cheerily. "I'm sure you'll find lots in common."

Tony made a face at her. "How much of a start do you think the FBI have on us?" He asked no one in particular.

"A big one," Gibbs replied shortly as they made their way to the terminal. "There's more of them than us."

"There's always more of them than us," Tony groaned.

"We're LEOs." Gibbs flashed his ID at the airport authority.

"Do we have a bag permit this time?" Tony whispered.

Gibbs nodded with a small smile and pulled one out and handed it to the airport authority.

"OK," the man said, waving them through. "Go on ahead."

"We really need our own plane," Cate groaned as she grabbed her bag off the floor and went through the metal detector.

"That's RIGHT!" Tony crowed in agreement. "I've been tellin' Gibbs that for two years."

"Well, Cate, if your Secret Service pals are ready to hand over an old one," Gibbs commented as he followed them through.

Cate just gave him a look of exasperation, but one without force and belied by the amusement in her eyes. "What, you want an Alpha Foxtrot so you can play the POTUS?"

"I'd make a good commander-in-chief," Gibbs deadpanned as he shouldered his bag and walked past them and started to board the plane.

"Gibbs as president," Tony commented as he and Cate followed. "Now that's an interesting thought."

"More like a nightmare," Cate mumbled as they got on the plane.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

"What've we got?" Jack asked, scooting into his chair at the head of the table.

"Marine Kathryn Jalun Lin, age 34, just achieved rank of Major," Martin began. "Officially with the Defense Intelligence Agency, but loaned out to the State Department 'indefinitely' six and a half years ago. She's been working exclusively with the State Department for the past year."

"State Department. What does that sound like to you?" Jack commented, looking over the file.

"One of the A's...CIA, NSA," Vivian replied, shaking her head.

"She was brought up to New York six months ago, apparently just as a temporary assignment," Samantha continued. "She continues to own her apartment in Washington. Washington FBI looked over the place, and they'll be sending a report. Oh." She pulled out a photo. "And our mystery man. No ID yet."

"What are people saying around the station?" Jack asked.

"Nothing much," Danny replied. "Quiet, kept to herself. A few of the Marines said she can be pretty sarcastic, but that the guy she turned on deserved it." He grinned. "That's about it."

"Does anyone even know why she was at the station?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nope."

"Did you find out what assignment she was supposed to be doing?" Martin asked, looking up at his boss.

"Nope," Jack replied. "Same...sinking...boat as you were."

The other three looked at each other puzzledly. "What happened?" Vivian finally ventured.

"Lin's assignment was need to know, and apparently even Jack doesn't need to know," Martin replied.

"All right." Jack leaned forward. "We're working this from the inside out. No one talks to anyone outside of that naval station without my approval, and don't answer any questions, no matter how innocent, from any of the people on base unless I approve it. No news, no nothing. We keep this under wraps. I'm not going to have another Greg Pritchard on my hands."

The four nodded.

"Do we have a photo?"

Vivian shook her head. "No photo. Stockwell's not allowed to release anything without permission from his higher up."

Jack nodded. "Vivian, Danny, look into all her credit cards, bank account, everything, government, military, and private, and into her phone records. Martin, I want you to look over the reports coming in from Washington, and Samantha, see what you can find on her mystery man. I'm going to make a phone call to the director, see if he can't get us access to those records. If we're lucky."

Four pairs of eyes shot up to look at him. "Um, maybe Martin could make a call," Samantha suggested.

Jack only looked up at her over his glasses. "I'll make it," he replied shortly. "Dismissed."

Three of the agents got up and scattered as Jack continued to read the file. Sensing somebody standing next to him, he looked up. "Yeah?"

A pair of nervous blue eyes looked down at him. "Jack, I'll make the call if you want me to." Martin looked at him calmly.

Jack continued to look steadily at his newest agent. He knew that Martin was willing to take a wave for the team - he'd shown as much during his confession about what had happened in the drophouse. Jack had to admit he still wasn't sure who was really responsible for the drophouse incident - he suspected that the real story lay somewhere between Martin's "all my fault" version and Vivian's "all my fault" version.

As ambitious as the boy was, Jack was slowly learning that Martin had a sense of honor and independence that refused to allow himself special treatment. The senior FBI agent guessed, however, that if "taking a wave for the team" meant pulling on his contacts, Martin would do it.

"I will," Martin repeated.

Jack kept a serious expression on his face, deciding to test out his theory. "Whatever happened to 'I asked my father to stay out of it, I don't want any preferential treatment'?"

He watched the younger man's face drop a little, then steel back up. He straightened and looked at the older man. "I didn't want to get preferential treatment from my colleagues. I can earn my keep. But this is for the victim, not me."

Jack continued to look at him steadily, and then decided to let a small smile through. He'd been right about the kid.

He had thought about letting Martin make the phone call, but decided against it. It wasn't fair when the boy tried that hard to keep his father out of everything, just to be forced to bring his father in when they needed a favor. "No. I'll make the call. It should be coming from the supervising agent anyhow."

Martin furrowed his brow for an instant, as if he didn't understand, then suddenly his face softened. He straightened and nodded a silent thanks before leaving.

---

Cate paused a moment, then looked a little surprised. Gibbs, sitting next to her, looked at her curiously. "What?"

"Got an email from Abby," Cate replied, quickly opening it up and scanning it quickly. "She got the information we wanted."

"That was fast."

"Let's see...here's Major Lin's file, and Abby also got the names of the FBI team who is currently running the investigation."

"Ugh, FBI again?" Tony muttered from across the aisle.

"There's more of them than us," Gibbs reminded.

---

FBI OFFICE

Jack picked up the ringing phone. "Malone."

"Fornell," came a voice over the line as way of introduction.

Jack rolled his eyes. He knew Fornell. Fornell was one of the FBI's top agents down in Washington, much as Jack hated to admit it. He just didn't like Washington in general, and he suspected Fornell had the same dislike of New York. "Well hello, Tobias," he commented with a tone of sarcasm, accenting the man's name. "So nice of you to check by, but I did get the reports from the MisPer unit."

"I'm actually calling under orders from Deputy Director Victor Fitzgerald," Fornell replied, ignoring the obvious baiting. "He told me to call as soon as he found out NCIS was headed up to New York."

"I can handle NCIS, Agent Fornell," Malone replied, clamping the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reached for a folder on the other side of his desk.

"That's not what I said," Fornell replied coolly. "I'm merely being the messenger boy today, or so it seems. If you hang up on me now you'll just get a call from Agent Freeman when he gets back."

"NCIS is going to need our help. They don't have enough people."

There was a derisive snort on the other end. "Trust me, they won't need it."

"Who are you defending here, Fornell?" Jack asked irritably.

"Agent Malone, NCIS going to do whatever they want to. Those cowboys have got chutzpuh."

"What are you saying?"

"NCIS Special Agent Jethro Gibbs is a hard case."

"You don't think I can't be?"

Fornell ignored him. "Now, if you'd like some advice - "

" - which I don't," Jack replied.

" - I'd suggest you cooperate with NCIS. That will be the only way you stay on the case," Fornell replied.

Malone narrowed his eyes at the comment, then snorted a little derisively. "Agent Fornell, are you speaking from personal experience?"

There was a long silence, and Malone figured, with a strange sense of satisfaction, he had angered the other FBI agent. Instead, there was an amused chuckle. "Agent Malone, did you hear about the case over half a year ago, involving a terrorist who attempted to assassinate the President on Air Force One?"

Malone thought for a moment. "Yes. It involved killing two football carriers first."

"Secret Service, FBI, and the local Wichita coroner were all on board Air Force One before NCIS even got out of Washington," he replied. "NCIS not only managed to delay the departure of Air Force One until they arrived on a commercial airline, they hijacked Air Force One from right under us, then got away with the body even after the senior Secret Service agent ordered his junior agent in charge at Wichita to turn the body over to us."

"So? There's no body here to take. Do they have a profiler?"

"They have one with profiling training. She also happens to have been the junior SS agent in charge at Wichita. She's got balls, Malone - she stood up to NCIS and to us during that case." He paused, and it was almost a smug one. "Unfortunately for you, Agent Gibbs decided to try the 'if you can't beat us, join us' route and managed to con her into joining NCIS."

Malone sighed. He could feel a headache coming on.

"Have a nice day," Fornell replied with mock cheeriness as he clicked off the phone.

---

"Can I help you, sir?" The security guard asked as the three agents blew into the building.

"NCIS," Gibbs replied, flashing his badge. "I need to talk to Missing Persons."

"They, uh, they're on a case right now, I don't think - "

"What floor?" Gibbs interrupted.

"They could be in a - "

Gibbs reached one long arm over the partition, picked up a directory, and looked at Cate expectantly.

"Jack Malone," Cate supplied, looking at her Palm Pilot. "NYC Missing Persons."

Gibbs quickly flipped through to the name. "He's on the next floor, office on the left." He picked up his bag, dropping the directory on the counter, and started down the hall.

"Sir, I don't think you heard me!" the guard called.

"Oh, he heard you," Tony replied as the three of them brushed past the guard, heading for the stairwell.

The guard followed them up the stairs, which the agents were going up two at a time, and was still shouting after them when the three of them blew into the bullpen.

Gibbs looked at the three agents sitting at the table - a young man, a blonde woman, and a dark-haired man wearing a pair of reading glasses. "Where's Agent Malone?"

The man with the glasses took them off and looked up. "Right here."

---

Martin came in, reading a file. "Sam, Danny, take a look at this. It - " he noticed the three agents in Jack's office, none of whom were dressed formally. Only the older man looked remotely passable, although it was just a suit jacket thrown on over a polo shirt. "We loosening up our dress code?"

"I wish," Danny replied jokingly, getting a grin out of his colleague.

"They're not with us," Samantha replied.

Martin took a longer look at the office and could see Jack's unhappy expression. He swore under his breath. "NCIS?"

Both Samantha and Danny looked up in surprise. "How'd you know?" Danny asked.

"I've...heard...stories," Martin replied vaguely. "We know which agents they are yet?"

"An Agent...Gibbs," Samantha replied. "We didn't get any names, except that the woman addressed the older man as 'Gibbs.'"

Martin muttered a curse under his breath.

"You OK?" Samantha replied concernedly, looking up from where she sat at her coworker. "Martin?"

"I'm...going...somewhere...anywhere...else..." Martin trailed off as he watched the confrontation in Jack's office escalate. He dropped the file and took off.

Danny and Samantha exchanged looks. "He doesn't look happy about NCIS being here, either," Danny commented.

"Well, Kate Lin IS a Marine officer," Samantha replied. "NCIS has every right to be here. Doesn't hurt that they apparently also had a good word put in from a FBI agent in Washington in a phone call to Jack."

"Really?" Danny looked surprised.

"Direct order from Deputy Director Fitzgerald." Samantha raised her eyebrows in a knowing expression.

"Oooh. Ouch." Danny shook his head as he looked into Jack's office again, eyeing the smirk on the silver-haired man's face. "No wonder that guy's smiling."

"Not a bad smile, either," Samantha commented, flashing one of her own.

---

Jack gave his team a pained look when he entered again, the three NCIS agents following. They plunked down around the table, and Jack pointed to the timeline. "Here's what we have so far."

"What do you have bagged and tagged?" Gibbs asked.

Jack turned back to him. "Agent Gibbs, there wasn't a crime scene. We searched her apartment, but we can't pack it all up." He paused and pulled out a file. "I will, though, let you take a look at these." Jack slid some photos over to him. "I checked out the uniforms myself just a few hours ago."

Gibbs picked up the photos and flipped through them; they were all of the ribbons and pins on the uniform. He handed one to Cate, gesturing at the ribbons. "What does that look like to you?"

Cate shrugged. "Gibbs, last time I tried to put the ribbons on, I messed - these two are out of order."

A trace smile crossed his face. "Yup."

"So are the ones on picture 5," Jack replied as he sat back down. "That was the second uniform hanging from the left, only this time it's two different ones."

Gibbs looked up, mild surprise on his face. "You know your ribbons."

"I was in the Army for a stint," Malone replied. "I have some knowledge of it, but apparently whoever tampered with her uniforms didn't."

Tony suddenly straightened. "Gibbs. What if it's - "

"Lacing the uniform with poison? I don't think so," Gibbs replied, continuing to examine the photos.

"Why not?" Cate asked.

Gibbs held up a photo to his two agents, in which a human hand could be seen holding the uniform flat. It was ungloved. "I believe this is Agent Malone's thumb, ungloved, and he's is alive and kicking."

"I had the uniforms bagged and they're being looked at," Malone replied. "Beyond prints, I don't think there would be anything else." He rubbed a hand on his face. "Unfortunately, so far no prints have shown up, not any beyond hers."

The heads snapped up. "Well, somebody had to have rearranged the ribbons," Gibbs replied. "They don't just get up and walk around."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, Tony and Cate looking between them. "Unless the person having them cleaned isn't Major Lin," Gibbs muttered, and got confirming nod from Malone.

---

FBI FORENSICS EVIDENCE ROOM

Martin and Samantha watched patiently as Tony and Cate examined what evidence there was. Gibbs had been a real hardnose, insisting his agents look over the things. Jack had been unusually cooperative, saying some vague about NCIS possibly just taking the evidence if they couldn't look at it.

When Tony got to the bagged sheets, he pulled them out with his gloved hands and took just one cursory whiff of the bedsheets and comforter. "It's Bellagio," he declared. At the few puzzled looks, he clarified, "The cologne."

"He's like a bloodhound," Martin muttered as Cate and Samantha both looked at him in surprise.

Tony looked up to see them all staring at him. He shrugged defensively. "What?"

"OK, so now we got to find a guy wearing Bellagio," Cate commented. "Who can we rule out?"

"Well, any guy at the naval station," Samantha replied. "Danny said that apparently she didn't talk to any of them, except to light into one who tried to hit on her, thinking she was a civilian, and to smile at a second lieutenant who accidentally bowled her over and then nearly had a panic attack because of it."

"Well then, that's where we start," Tony replied, shoving the sheets back into the bag. He looked up to see the two FBI agents looking at him with suspicious doubt. "What, you think that's cold?"

"Very."

"Good. It means I'm focused," Tony replied with a grin as he headed over to the sink to wash off.

Samantha made a face as she and Martin headed out of the room. "I hope I'm never that focused."

Cate just chuckled out loud as she began to reshelve the bags of evidence. Tony turned to look at her and shrugged. "What?"

"That was very...Gibbs of you, Tony." Cate grinned. "And, I must say I was impressed by your...keen sense of smell."

He frowned and made a face. "DON'T say it."

She looked up innocently. "I wasn't about to say anything."

"You were thinking it," he replied.

"Thinking what?"

"That I'm like some dog," he replied.

"I was?" Cate replied. "Well, if I wasn't, I certainly am now."

Tony rolled his eyes.

---

NEW YORK NAVAL STATION

Stockwell sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "We do not need the FBI and NCIS playing internal affairs for our agency," he replied shortly.

"We don't aim to, Mr. Stockwell," Jack replied just as curtly. "We have a job to do, and when we find the Major, your agency can deal with her."

"What makes you think that she planned to run with the money?" Gibbs asked.

"It was about...a week ago." Stockwell sighed. "She...was talking with somebody else."



The man, his arms akimbo, looked down at the smaller woman. "You do understand."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Yes, I understand the deal."

"$10 mil is a lot," he said slowly, eyeing her carefully.

"I know."

The man rocked on his feet a little and then said, "Remember who's paying you."



Jack shrugged. "That's it? That's nothing. You can't do anything with that."

"Well, problem number one is that she wasn't supposed to know yet how much money was involved," Stockwell replied. "Problem number two, that guy she talked to was not working for me."

"Who was the man?" Gibbs asked.

"I couldn't see. It was very dark, and they were talking very softly. And she was supposed to be reporting to me. If she's taking orders from somebody else, I want to know who. We're trying to keep this one as hush as possible."

"What did you do after this?"

"It was enough to get me to track her cell phone," Stockwell replied. "We had a few calls here and there that sounded somewhat suspicious."

"So why would she run now, when she doesn't even have the money?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. Maybe she knew we were on to her." Stockwell groaned and rubbed his temples.

Gibbs crossed his arms. "So what are YOU going to do?"

---

Danny shook his head as he finally came out of the lieutenant's room. "No Bellagio. He's wearing Polo Sport when we does wear it."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, he must be saving that for his big dates, because he's got bottles of the even cheaper Walmart kind." He rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and looked around. "Maybe the guy threw the bottle out."

"If he did, then it could be long gone in the trash," Danny pointed out.

Tony thought for a minute, then added somberly, "Plus, Bellagio's a little expensive to be just throwing out."

---

"Find anything?" Samantha asked.

Cate chucked the clothes she's been going through back onto the bed. "Nope," she muttered in frustration. "You?"

"Nothing."

"All I got over here is gum stuck on the floor and a bag of old moldy chips." Cate made a face. "Some days this job is really disgusting."

Samantha chuckled as they exited the room. "You, uh, been at NCIS long?"

"Not that long," Cate replied. "Just a year."

Samantha looked at her. "What made you go to NCIS?"

"Oh, work was more fun at NCIS," Cate replied vaguely. "No suits." She smiled, and Samantha laughed. "What other men are in this major's life?"

"Well, we're still looking for that mystery man in the photo, but besides that, she has a brother living in Ohio, and that's it."

"This brother of hers - she still talk to him? Would she contact him?"

"I don't know," Samantha replied. "We were planning on going down there tonight."

Cate's eyes darted up to her face. "Mind if I tag along?"

---

Martin and Vivian looked up as Samantha, Danny, and the three NCIS agents piled into the bullpen. Martin opened his mouth to say something, but Samantha shook her head slightly at him. Outside, Jack strode right past the bullpen, heading for his office.

They watched as Gibbs plunked his things into his chair.

"Wow," Vivian murmured. "He looks really mad."

Martin look a sidelong glance at his colleague, then back at the rest of the group. As Danny passed by, he said quietly, "I take it the trip didn't go so well?"

Danny shook his head. "Jack and Gibbs wouldn't say anything on the way back," he said in a low voice.

Just then Jack came back in, heading straight for the whiteboard and writing in another mark. Vivian had had enough. "Jack!" Her no-nonsense tone shone through; she would not be stalled. "What happened."

"Stockwell's decided that the Major is no longer his business," Malone replied shortly as he turned around. "He's going to cut her loose."

There were a few confused looks.

"We kind of found out why the Major is in New York," Jack explained. "She's supposed to be overseeing a pickup of money for a hostage situation. Stockwell doesn't know where she is or what she's doing, so he's going to replace her."

"Stockwell," Gibbs finally spoke, "is convinced that Lin is rogue and is going to run with the money."

Danny frowned. "She doesn't even have it. The pickup isn't for three days. Where's the logic in that?"

"There isn't any," Jack replied. He nodded to the others. "What did you find?"

"Uh, nothing in either one of the rooms," Danny replied, speaking for all four. "We tracked down the list of their friends, too. None of them wear Bellagio."

"There were a couple colognes we weren't sure of," Samantha supplied, "but Agent DiNozzo doesn't seem to think they'd match the scent on the sheets although we're still having forensics check."

Jack nodded to his agents. "Danny, Martin, I want you guys to go down to Washington. Get your stuff together. Get in contact with the agents down there and sweep everything." The two nodded and hurried off to their desks. "Samantha, you and Viv go check out this brother of Lin's." When she hesitated, Jack nodded at her.

Samantha quickly gathered up her things, about to go, when Cate touched her arm. "Oh, Jack." Samantha looked up at her boss. "Cate...Cate wants to know if she can come."

Tony looked at his colleague with an obvious question in his expression: 'You're on first-name terms already?'

Jack and Gibbs both turned to Cate with an inquiring look in their eyes. She just shrugged.

Jack looked between Samantha and Cate, and then said, "Fine. You take Agent Todd. I'm going to keep Viv here, then."

"Tony," Gibbs replied without further comment as he continued to read his file. "Escort Agents Fitzgerald and Taylor down to Washington."

Everything stopped. Martin and Danny looked at each other, and then at Jack, and then to Gibbs. Just a few feet away, Tony's eyes darted from his boss to Jack and then back.

Malone turned to Gibbs, a defiant expression on his face. "They do not need help," he said quietly, out of earshot of the two junior agents. "My agents are highly capable."

Gibbs turned to look at him intently. "Tony, go grab your gear," he replied, not looking at his agent but staring daringly at the FBI supervisor. Tony skittered off. "Well, Agent Malone," he said in a low voice, "so's mine."

AIRPORT

Tony and Cate stood at the airport, Tony shaking his head. "We really need our own plane," Tony muttered to her. "FBI, CIA, DEA, ATF, even NYPD have private jets."

The agents all piled onto the one plane, and the door was shut. "We're going to Washington first," the pilot called. "Then we'll take you out to Ohio."

Danny threw him the thumbs up. As the plane taxied, he grinned. "Bet you don't have this at NCIS."

Samantha tried to keep from rolling her eyes, despite her amusement. What was it with males always trying to outdo each other? She looked up briefly to see Agent Todd's face, which wore the same look of exasperation.

"Oh...no...we don't," Tony replied. "We generally try to...hitch rides on Air Force One when we can."

"Riiiight," Danny replied, obviously not buying it.

"Oh, yeah, it was just us," Tony said as brightly as he could. "Us and our dead body. AF1 pilot was taking us back to Washington." At the incredulous looks from Danny and Martin, he shrugged. "What?"

Cate just shook her head in amusement.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

Vivian reappeared in the office, looking around at the empty bullpen. "Where is everyone?" she asked as she approached the table. "Jack?"

"They all headed out already - the three guys to Washington, and Sam and Agent Todd to Ohio," Jack replied, looking up.

"Mmm." Vivian chuckled as she sat. "They were getting in your hair?"

"Yeah, those two and that NCIS agent DiNozzo," Jack muttered. "Thank God I don't have to deal with them all together. I don't think I could deal with that."

"Yep," Vivian replied as she continued to lay out the different reports. "You might turn into Larabee."

Jack chuckled. "That's a scary thought." He handed her a report. "Take a look at this."

"What is it?" Vivian asked.

"This is the forensics report on the uniforms," Jack replied said, indicating the flipped open folder. "We were banking on something - some pollen, maybe a smoke smell, something on those uniforms to direct us to where she was."

"There's nothing, is there," Vivian muttered, seeing the look on his face.

"Nothing. Each one has been dry cleaned. The only prints on there are hers."

"So our Major isn't really a major," Vivian said, looking at Jack. "She can't even put on her own ribbons right."

"Or somebody else used gloves," Gibbs commented as he appeared out of nowhere and sat down.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, "but that means that she wasn't the one who got the uniforms dry cleaned. If it was some kind of dry cleaners on base, I doubt they would've gotten the ribbons mixed up. If it were some local dry cleaners, I'm guessing the major would have reattached the ribbons herself, and she wouldn't have put them in the wrong order."

"So either way somebody else is involved," Vivian replied.

"Do we know which dry cleaner's?" Gibbs asked.

"No," Jack replied. "No tags, no receipts anywhere on the uniforms or in any other part of the apartment. But if we can find out who had them dry cleaned...." He left the rest unspoken.

"I've got the list of all the dry cleaner's within an hour's radius of here," Vivian replied. "Plus within an hour's radius of her apartment down near Washington. I've got somebody looking through those now."

Gibbs held up the authorization. "The happy news continues. Marine's going to bring the surveillance tapes for the station. Here's the authorization."

---

WASHINGTON, DC FBI OFFICE

"So?" Martin shrugged, looking over the report and then looking at the FBI agent. "This doesn't say anything."

The FBI agent sighed theatrically. "I know."

"Agent Fitzgerald, Agent Taylor," called a voice, and the three agents looked up to see a balding, gray-haired man come around. "Agent DiNozzo," he replied, amusement and distaste both mixed in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing the sights," Tony replied with a defiant grin.

"You know each other?" Danny asked.

"I threw his butt out on the Beltway," Fornell replied before Tony could. "You two should've done it when you had the chance," he continued, looking at them.

"Unfortunately for them, I was driving," Tony replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, unfortunately on several counts," Martin muttered, suddenly looking a little queasy.

"Agent Fornell. I spoke with your supervising agent two days ago," the man supplied, holding out a hand to Danny, introducing himself. "Agent Taylor," he greeted before turning to Martin. "Agent Fitzgerald," he said as he extended a hand to him. "It's nice to meet you, finally." He extended a hand to the agent, who looked at him warily but shook it. "Did you speak with your father?"

"I'm here on a case," Martin replied, his voice going cold. "Not on a pleasure trip."

Tony furrowed his brow, looking between Martin and Fornell.

"So...can we help you?" Danny cut in, looking at Fornell.

"Man was found dead three blocks from Major Lin's apartment," Fornell replied, giving Fitzgerald a strange look. "They found a slip of paper with what appears to be some kind of code name on it, which we're guessing is your missing major's. Thought you might want to take a look." He turned and started heading out, Martin following.

"Danny?" Tony hurried to catch up to the FBI agent. "Why did Martin look so mad about the comment about his father?" he asked in a low voice.

Danny put on his jacket and leaned over, speaking in a low voice. "Martin's father is the Deputy Director of the FBI," he said quietly. Tony's eyes widened. "Fitzy's good, he doesn't milk it, but don't ask him about it. Touchy subject."

Tony nodded.

---

HOME OF LINS

Samantha and Cate exchanged looks, and then Samantha reached into her pocket and pulled out a copy of the photo she had found in the major's New York apartment. "Can you tell us who this man is?" she asked, handing them the photo.

He took the photo grimly. When his wife saw the expression on his face, she came over from the spot where their triplets were playing on the floor. An older child was drawing nearby. "Peter?"

He held up the photo to show her, and she gave a small gasp.

"Who is it?" Cate asked, a little more directly and urgently.

"This...he was my sister's fiance," the man finally replied. "Jeff Quinn."

"'Was'?" Samantha asked.

"He died about...seven years ago," he explained quietly. "From the date...this...was most likely the last photo they'd taken together. Just two months before."

"What can you tell us about him?" Cate asked.

"Kate had met him when he came to the DIA for some help," he replied. "I'm not sure on the details. He was State Department, although we all know what that means, considering Kate's line of work." He heaved a sigh. "They hit it off, and - according to her - they started seeing each other a few months after the assignment ended. He called her."

"How'd he die?"

Peter Lin shook his head. "We don't know." He saw the two agents exchange looks, and then quickly corrected himself. "Kate knows. It - need-to-know, and obviously we don't. Actually, Kate only found out..." he turned to his wife. "Five years ago or so?"

His wife nodded. "Right before we bought the house."

The man nodded. "Uh, one of her contacts at the CIA had access to the records, and he told her what happened to Jeff."

"He wasn't supposed to?"

The man shook his head. "Which is why she won't say anything else." He shrugged. "Uh, Jeff's parents might know. Kate kept in contact with them, even after Jeff died."

The two agents looked surprised. "She did?" Samantha asked, and got a definitive nod.

Just then the phone rang, and his wife got up to go get it. She was back in just a minute. "Pete, it's for you."

"Excuse me." He got up and headed to the back room, and they could hear his voice over the phone. "Hello?"

His wife returned to her chair, and nervously ran her hands over her face.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

"Hey," Vivian greeted the harried looking technician at the desk. "Anything yet?"

He shook his head. "Right now every face that's appeared on the tapes has been identified as somebody with the station. But there's a lot of tape to go through. I'm taking out pictures of all the people who were linked to the major and were on base at the same times she was, plus any unidentified civilians." He pointed to the pile. "That's what we've got so far."

"That's a lot," Vivian commented.

The tech guy looked at her with a pained expression. "Agent Gibbs is...thorough," he said as diplomatically as he could.

Vivian laughed. "Code for crazy," she chuckled as she began looking through some of the photos while keeping an eye on the video. "How're Naomi and the kids?"

"Oh, they're doing great. Charlotte loves her ballet class." The tech guy grinned. "Reggie and Marcus?"

"They're all right. Marcus might be voted onto tenure track, so we'll see." Vivian watched the tapes. "Hey, who's that?"

The tech guy slowly paused the tape and clicked on the one man's face, enlarging it. He stopped short. "I've never seen that one before."

"No," Vivian replied slowly. "Print out a picture for me. I'm going to run it by Jack."

---

STREET IN DC

"Hi Ducky, Gerald!" Tony grinned as the elderly ME came in.

"Ah, Tony, I'd like to know how you got me past the wall over there," Ducky replied, nodding at the myriad of FBI agents swarming the old building alleyway. "I wasn't sure what to do after the local coroner backed out on me."

Tony grinned. "Let me guess, he won't be getting anything this Christmas."

"Those entrance passes to the Scottish golf club won't be going to him," Ducky huffed as he slowly kneeled beside the body.

Tony and Gerald exchanged grins.

"They were to the Kingsbarns course, too," Ducky continued. "That course is perhaps the most beautiful of them all," the ME commented brightly, looking up at the NCIS agent. "The view of the sea it gives could distract even the likes of Ben Hogan or Arnold Palmer," he went on, then furrowed his brow slightly as he thought. "Who is it you young people watch these days? Jack Nicklaus?"

Gerald laughed as he took photos. "Tiger Woods."

Ducky looked up. "What kind of name is 'Tiger'?" he asked.

"What kind of name is 'Ducky'?" Tony grinned.

"My name is Donald. I can't help it if everyone calls me Ducky."

"How'd he die, Duck?"

"Please, Tony, I just met the deceased! You're picking up on Gibbs' impatience. Pick up on something else, for goodness' sake," the ME chastised as he leaned over to swab the wound. "You really should meet the man," he addressed the body. "Gibbs is one of our best, but the man always wants instant this. Instant that. He would make instant autopsies and instant agents if he could."

Gerald and Tony exchanged amused looks.

"Huh," Ducky commented, straightening as he thought about it. "Though, it is strange.... Gibbs hates instant coffee."

As Ducky rambled on about Gibbs' impatience, Tony worked his sketches, then stopped when he felt two people standing behind him. "Don't worry, we've got this part handled," he said, as he looked up at the two FBI agents. He stood up when he saw their faces. "What?"

"Your ME," Martin said in a low voice. "He's talking. To the BODY." He raised an eyebrow at Tony, who looked from his deadpan face to Danny's, which sported a smirk.

"Well, young fellow," Ducky replied as he stood to his feet. "If you were dead, wouldn't you rather be talked to rather than about?" He smiled as the two seemed slightly taken aback. "I don't believe Tony's introduced us. Ducky, and this is Gerald," he said, indicating his assistant.

"Agent Martin Fitzgerald," Martin replied, extending a hand and shaking the ME's. "Agent Danny Taylor." He indicated his coworker. "Dr. Mallard, do you need any help?"

"Oh no, I'm just fine. And please, it's Ducky to my associates," Ducky replied warmly. He looked at them carefully. "Ah. FBI. We're working this one with them?" He looked at Tony, who nodded. The silence became a tense one, but Ducky quickly managed to dispel it. "Gibbs didn't shoot them first?"

"They" Tony indicated the two FBI agents "got you past the 'wall' back there." The ME made a little face at the hassle he had gotten from the other LEOs at first. "I told them that if they didn't want to deal with some smug stuck-in-the-mud, they should let you two and Abby in on this. They're Missing Persons."

"Ohhh," Ducky nodded in understanding sympathy. "The crime scene agents weren't very happy with you, hmm?" He got grins out of the two younger men. "Well, I'll be ready in a bit. Gerald - the gurney."

Tony followed the two FBI agents some ways off. "We got anything?"

Martin held up an ID, which had a photo of the dead man, and a ring of keys. "Jacob Wittenstein. We've got an address."

"Let's go."

---

LINS' OHIO HOME

"Mrs. Lin?" Cate asked gently.

"I just...I'm sorry." Jaime quickly assessed their two cups of water and reached over to the pitcher to pour more for them. "I just...I can't believe Kate's MISSING."

"She's never disappeared before?" Samantha asked. "I think it would be common in her line of work."

"Disappear, all the time, but not like this," she replied quietly. "Kate is pretty much unreachable; she never answers her phone, really. We generally end up talking to her machine and then getting a call from her later. But there was always somewhere to call, who knew where she was, in case of emergencies."

"Who - well, where?" Cate asked.

"I don't know. The number changed every time." She paused for a moment. "And she wasn't always doing this. The disappearing didn't really start until after Jeff died."

"You two were close?" Samantha asked gently.

"No." Jaime laughed nervously. "Kate is...very hard to get close to."

"How so?" Cate straightened in her chair.

"From what Peter had said...she always was very quiet, very detached by personality already," Jaime replied. "Very...cold. And that was before she even got into...whatever she's doing now. Kate...Peter's the only family she has left, and I've never heard her say to him that she loves him or something."

"What's their relationship like?" Samantha asked.

She shrugged for a moment as she tried to piece her thoughts together. "Their mother...was kind of sickly," she replied. "Their father died when Peter was ten. In some ways I think Kate became a parent to Peter, especially with their age difference."

"Did she ever say anything recently that struck you as strange?"

Jaime thought for a moment, then shook her head. As she did, though, she suddenly stopped. "Last time she was here. It was about a year ago, she came by after an assignment."



Jaime pauses at the top of the stairwell, looking down into the living room. On the sofa sits the major, with a small toddler in her lap.

"...and that?" Lin asks gently, smiling as she points at something in a book.

"Dog!" the tot declares, then beams up at his aunt.

Lin smiles, then quickly looks up to the staircase almost as if reacting to an intruder in the house. She sees her sister-in-law, and Jaime sighs a little and comes down into the living room. "Did we wake you?" Lin asks.

Jaime smiles and shakes her head. "No. It's about time to get up, anyhow."

Lin makes a face. "It's 8 am on a Saturday morning, Jaime."

Jaime chuckles as she watches her son sitting in his aunt's lap, looking at the cartoon characters in the big book. "Richard Scarry, huh?" She sees a rare, trace smile on Lin's face.

The tot climbs off his aunt's lap and takes the book. "'Nother book, A'ntie Kate!"

"All right," Lin agrees, and the small child scampers off.

Jaime smiles as she watches her son leave, then turns back to the older woman. She looks as if she isn't sure whether or not to say anything, then ventures bravely, "You're good with him."

A blank look drops over the other woman's face, and she shrugs. "He's a well-mannered kid." There's a silence, and Jaime shifts uncomfortably under his sister-in-law's careful watching. "Peter's lucky to have you."

There is obvious surprise on Jaime's face. "What?"

"Peter's lucky to have you - you and the kids. He's settled. He has his own home."

Jaime straightens. "Kate, you're always welcome here," she says earnestly. "You're part of the family."

The major raises an inquisitive eyebrow for a moment, then chuckles as understanding registers on her face. "No, I meant that I finally don't have to worry about him anymore," she replies. "You're shrewd enough to keep his naive butt out of trouble."

Jaime smiles reassuringly in agreement, but just until Lin settles on the sofa, putting her head back onto the top of the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. The younger woman then looks at her sister-in-law with a slightly puzzled expression.



"She was always so...on alert." Jaime concluded, shaking her head. "Watchful. Wary."

"She seems to like you." Samantha smiled.

"When we first met, she was pretty cold towards me. Polite, cordial, but nothing else." Jaime chuckled a little. "I always kind of hoped that Kate would eventually approve of me, but that wasn't quite the response I think I'd get." She chuckled nervously, then thought for a moment. "Or in that context."

"Do you have problems with her when she visits?" Samantha asked.

Jaime shook her head firmly. "No. Never. She's always...when she visits she helps to watch the kids, to cook, to clean," she replied. "Despite Peter and my efforts to get her to feel otherwise, she always acts as though she's a guest."

"She sounds as though she thinks something might happen to her," Cate replied. "Did she give you any hint of what was going on?"

Jaime shook her head. "She never tells us anything, but I wonder if it isn't getting...more dangerous, given what she said."

---

WITTENSTEIN'S APARTMENT, DC

As the three men entered the dead man's apartment, Tony's eyes flickered briefly, and then he said quietly, "OK, let's roll. I'll take the bedroom."

Martin and Danny exchanged looks, and then Martin headed for the kitchen.

Danny started flipping around, but he didn't see anything. There were a few family photos of Wittenstein with his parents, but that was it. Nothing about Lin.

He wandered into the kitchen. "What've we got?"

"Jiffy peanut butter," Martin commented as he held up a jar, then replaced it in the refrigerator and shut the door. He then opened another cabinet door to reveal five more jars. "A lot of it. You?"

"Nothing. Although," Danny got a little pensive, "that might be something. He's got no mention of Lin anywhere in here. No photos, no name - I checked in his personal phonebook. Nothing. Kind of odd if he's her boyfriend."

Martin groaned.

"I think I got something," came Tony's voice as he came in, grinning like the cat who'd just eaten the canary. He held up an evidence bag.

Inside was a small bottle of Bellagio.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

Two photos dropped onto the table in front of the two men, who both looked up.

"What's this?" Jack asked, looking at the printout of the surveillance photo.

"I don't know," Vivian replied as she slid into the seat. "We know Stockwell, and it's not him. Martin just sent in the photo of the dead man they found, Jacob Wittenstein, and it's not him. And it doesn't match her dead fiance's face, either."

Jack looked amused. "Should it have been?"

Vivian shrugged. "Never hurts to check."

"You never know with these intelligence types," came Gibbs comment, earning him two puzzled looks as he continued to examine the photo closely. "Not military; well, either that or he's got family money."

"That's got to be an expensive suit," Jack muttered in agreement, squinting at the man in the photo. Those the image was fuzzy, the man's long coat was open wide enough to reveal a three-piece suit.

"Do we have him logged on the entrance records to the base?" Gibbs asked, finally looking up.

"I still need to check on that. Right now he's the only one that's unaccounted for."

---

LIN'S APARTMENT, DC

Martin suddenly stopped the superintendent of the apartment building. "Wait." He held up a photo of Wittenstein. "Does he look familiar?"

"Sure, he's her boyfriend. Ran into him the other day, he was comin' by to get some things for her. Said she was in New York."

Tony and Danny exchanged looks.

Martin moved toward the door and pulled out the keys he'd found on Wittenstein and tried the first house key. It didn't work. He tried the second.

The door to the apartment slowly swung open.

The super nodded. "He's got a key to her place. That's how he got in."

"We're going to need a surveillance tape covering everyone who entered and left your building in the last week," Tony said. The super nodded and hurried off as the three men headed in and began searching.

Inside her bedroom, Tony flipped through everything, but the only thing he could find was a fine layer of dust. It was entirely un-lived in, and it did give him the creeps a little.

"Find anything?" Martin called as he came in from the kitchen, looking around her bedroom. He walked over to the window and looked out to see a cherry blossom tree several feet away; not close enough to block sunlight, but close enough to be enjoyable. "Nice view."

"Yep to the view," Tony replied, dropping the mattress back down. "But no your question. Nothing in there."

"Yeah, I didn't find anything either. Nothing but an unopened box of Cheez-its."

Tony shook his head as he and Martin headed out to the living room. "Place is pretty clean. Fits the report, if she's been in New York for the past six months."

"Yeah. Didn't find any Bellagio or anything with a scent, either," Martin mumbled. "Where's Danny?"

"Right here," Danny replied, coming in with a smirk.

"Find anything?"

"A round that was fired. It was stuck in the couch. Seems like it went through some stuff, lost velocity as it went through the wall, and stuck into the couch." Danny held up the bag, a big grin on his face.

---

"Hi Jack," Samantha said the car whirled down the highway. "Cate and I are going to head over into Illinois. Her fiance's parents are there, and we're going to talk to them. ... Yeah. ... OK, bye." She hung up and shut the door.

Cate started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "What do you think?"

"Maybe our Major found somebody new," Samantha replied. "It's possible."

"Likely?" Cate commented.

Samantha looked over at the NCIS agent, then shrugged. "It's possible to move on with somebody else after a first relationship ends badly," she replied. "You'd most likely be more gun-shy, but if it's the right guy."

Cate looked over at her passenger briefly, as if trying to figure out what the comment meant. Then, "Yeah, but likely? The way the Lins were describing the major, it doesn't seem like she moved on."

"Well," Samantha shrugged. "A lot of families have secrets." She took care to ignore purposely the brief look Cate again gave her and sat back in her seat before she changed the subject. "This is nice. A nice, normal driver for a change."

Cate laughed outright. "I'm accused of being slow."

Samantha sat up and looked at the speedometer. "At 10 miles over the speed limit?" she asked incredulously.

"The response was, and I quote, 'What good is it being an armed federal agent if you can't drive fast?'"

Samantha chuckled. "I hate it when guys take a 'little car ride' and try to beat their best time. I'm not a GOOD driver, but at least I don't speed."

"It must be hell when you're driving in New York," Cate replied sympathetically.

"Oh yeah," Samantha nodded. "What about you?"

"Generally we don't have to go into Washington proper, so that's not the problem. The problem is that Gibbs lets Tony drive all the time. I swear, Gibbs does it just because he knows it annoys me," Cate grumbled.

Samantha chuckled as she looked over at the other woman's face. Despite the slight scowl on her face, there was no venom behind her words, and Samantha had seen enough to know that Cate wasn't really annoyed with either of her two coworkers. Although, she could use backup in dealing with them. "Agent Gibbs likes to push your buttons?"

"Not as much as Tony, but when he does - " Cate made a face.

"He goes for quality over quantity, huh." Samantha barely suppressed her amusement.

---

NCIS HQ LAB ROOM

"Hey Abby, what've we got?" Tony asked as he wandered in. As the lab technician whirled around in her chair to greet him, he grinned at her. "Lookin' good without us around to keep you on your toes."

Abby laughed. "How was New York?"

"It's fast-paced, always on the move," Tony grinned. "I like that energy. Gibbs and Cate hate it. Gibbs and his d - n no power boatbuilding and Cate's 'small town Americana' stuff."

Abby chuckled. "You come down here by yourself?"

"Nope." Just then the door opened, and Abby and Tony both turned. In the next room were Martin and Danny, making their way towards her lab.

"Wow. You're keeping cuter company than usual," Abby commented. "Too bad they're FBI."

Tony just gave her a look.

"Not that Gibbs and Cate aren't cute," Abby replied hurriedly in correction, although misinterpreting Tony's look. "Just that Gibbs...is old enough to be my dad, and Cate is...well, female."

"I thought you were into older guys," Tony teased.

"Yeah, but dating Gibbs would be like...dating my dad," Abby replied, shuddering. "Ugh."

"Hi," Martin greeted as he came in. "We're looking for...."

"Abby? That's me." Abby grinned as she twirled around in her chair.

Martin and Danny tried to recover from their surprise at seeing the lab tech. If the bow-tie wearing, story-spouting, body-conversing ME wasn't enough, the NCIS lab tech was even more surprising. She had on black boots, black pants, black shirt...with pinky holes on the sleeves.

"Abby, what've you got?" Tony asked pointedly, shooting the FBI agents a dark look.

"The cologne you found in Wittenstein's apartment matched the scent on the bedsheets you'd bagged and brought down here," Abby began. "And considering how much is in the bottle, I'd guess that's where he got it from."

"So our boyfriend is driving in from Washington," Martin murmured.

---

QUINN HOME, ILLINOIS

"...very quiet," Mrs. Quinn said softly, looking down. "Katie was not really a talker, but always polite."

"Jeff loved her," her husband continued, "and she was a good kid. He was our only son."

"How did he die?" Samantha asked gently.

The Quinns looked at each other, then Mr. Quinn said quietly, "We don't know."

Cate looked surprised. "You don't."

"It's need to know," Mrs. Quinn replied.

"When was the last time you saw Major Lin?" Samantha asked.

"Seven...seven years ago," Mrs. Quinn replied, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. "At Jeffrey's funeral."



"...Amen." As the minister closes, a little girl drops a few flowers onto the casket already in the ground. People are crying.

To the side stands the major in a dark coat, watching quietly. She doesn't move, doesn't speak. Next to her stands her brother and his wife, who both keep looking at her with sidelong glances, but keep quiet.

The mourners begin to disband, and many come over to the Quinns to talk to them; a few greet the major, who smiles at them and talks just a little.

Soon the only ones left are the Quinns and Major Lin, her brother and his sister-in-law some distance away.

"Kate," Mrs. Quinn murmurs through her tears, reaching up to hug the younger woman, who awkwardly hugs her back. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," she says quietly, in a voice devoid of anything. She nods to them and turns away, disappearing among th eothers at the funeral. The Quinns are a little taken aback.



"Her fiance was just killed and she didn't cry?" Samantha asked incredulously. "Did it look like she had been?"

The man shook his head, causing Samantha and Cate to exchange looks. "We thought it was weird, too." He sighed. "But, you know...Kate keeps in touch."

"She does?" This was getting stranger and stranger.

"Every Christmas, there comes a card from her. There's never very much on it. But, uh, she's like clockwork about Christmas. And our birthdays." The couple exchanged looks. "It's just nice to be remembered," the woman finished softly.

---

NCIS HQ LAB

Abby moved over to her computer. "I'm going to look over the surveillance tapes again, but I'm pretty sure I didn't miss it." She called up one section of the tape. "The tape's been tampered with."

"What?"

"Somebody taped a section of the empty exit door over the surveillance tape. It's a loop of about five minutes."

"How can you tell?" Tony asked.

Abby chuckled and pointed at the corner of the screen. "Watch as the little kitty struts the catwalk...three times." She grinned with satisfaction. "Problem is, this looping occurs only once - last Tuesday."

"That's over a week ago," Danny muttered in frustration. "Way before she went missing."

"Oh, but here's what's - "

" - hinky?" Tony finished.

Abby grinned. "The tape of her NYC apartment you brought down? It was looped twice. Same deal - 5 minute sections. I would've missed it this time if I hadn't been looking for it. There wasn't a cat helping me this time."

The three chuckled in spite of themselves.

"What about the rounds?"

As Abby turned in her chair back to the computer monitor, her long black pants whished over a chain hanging from the beltloop. Danny and Martin exchanged looks. Danny leaned over. "Is it just me, or is she in all black...with a dog collar?" he whispered as softly as he could.

Martin nodded. "Not you."

"The bullet from the victim was in pretty good shape," Abby replied, pointing at the weapon. "One shot, killed him instantly, if that's any comfort. I'd say the round was most likely from a Baretta. 21. I think."

"His whole face was...screwed up," Danny replied in disagreement. "Only one shot? Did the guy pistol whip him before?"

"Not according to Ducky," Tony replied shortly, a little put off by the tone of distrust in the FBI agent's voice.

"The gun can misfire sometimes if you don't clock somebody just right," Abby replied from her spot in front of the computer. "That wouldn't be smart if you wanted a clean job, which is what this guy did. I think he most likely just fired the one shot. The thing is, once a bullet enters a body, everything's game. They can pierce your shoulder and wind up in your nose or something. If the bullet's small enough, they can even go through your blood vessels without killing you."

"Ugh." Tony shuddered.

"So the one bullet could have traveled and then...messed up his face like that?" Martin asked.

"Yup."

"What about the round that we brought in from Lin's apartment?" Danny asked.

"Certainly a Baretta, and I'd say the same model." Abby replied. "This bullet is in way better condition than the first."

"Baretta 21, huh?"

Abby nodded.

NYC FBI OFFICE

"I just got off the phone with Lin's CO, a Colonel Mark Weir," Gibbs said as he got up from the table. "He hasn't seen her in six months."

"He doesn't know anything that's going on?" Vivian asked incredulously.

"He was functioning as an admin command CO for Major Lin," Gibbs replied. "She gets sent out, she could be working for any of a dozen agencies. She wouldn't be reporting to him."

"Did he say anything else?"

"That if she ran, she would have a really good reason." Gibbs shook his head as he put on his jacket. "I'm going to go look at her apartment."

Jack and Vivian exchanged looks. Vivian said, "I'll take you."

---

WASHINGTON, DC

Tony led two skeptical FBI agents out of the parking lot the noisy bar-and-grill. "This" he held up his hands as if showing off the place "is the best restaurant in town." He grinned. "They have the hottest nacho and chips. All the ladies from that modeling agency down the street start coming in at 5." His grin grew wider.

"Your favorite watering hole just happens to be down the street from the local modeling agency?" Danny asked with amusement, one eyebrow raised.

Tony just smirked.

Martin and Danny exchanged looks, both trying desperately to suppress amused looks. They looked back at the NCIS agent, who grinned wider and raised his eyebrows. Then Martin said, "We're supposed to be flying back."

"We're going back," Tony insisted. "Just after we grab dinner. I'll call." He grinned and pulled out his phone and headed for a quiet corner.

The two FBI agents watched his retreating back and turned to each other. "You explain this one to Jack," they said in union, each pointing at the other.

A group came in, with a blonde looking over at them and pausing to give them a wink before she continued inside with the people she came with.

"Doghouse," Martin muttered.

Danny was chuckling. If he were going to get in trouble, at least he ought to have fun with it. "Hope it's a duplex," he commented with a smirk as he went inside. Martin soon followed.

Tony was standing in a corner, talking to a waitress. When he saw them come in, he motioned them over and pointed at a corner booth. As the two FBI agents neared, they heard him dialing up.




"Gibbs." Gibbs leaned his right elbow on the car's passenger side door.




"We IDed the body that was a few blocks from Lin's apartment as Jacob Wittenstein," Tony said over the noise. "The Bellagio is his - we found it in his apartment. We swept Lin's, but there wasn't anything really there except a round. Abby thinks it's from a Baretta, most likely the same one that killed Wittenstein."

Tony grinned as he and Martin watched a waitress approach Danny.

"We also went to Rosslyn to the dry cleaner's that Agent Johnson found," the NCIS agent continued. "They positively identified Wittenstein from the photo," Tony said. "They said he was the one who brought in the major's uniforms. Said they were his girlfriend's. We got them to pull up all the receipts from the past year and we're bringing them along."




"OK, where are you three?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

Vivian made a turn.



"We're uh, we're waiting for our jet ride. It's going to take a few hours, though."

Just then the jukebox started up, and loud pop number started up.



"Hey!" Gibbs pressed his phone closer to his ear. "What is that?"

Vivian was interested now, looking at the older agent periodically with an amused expression.



As a woman approached, smiling at Martin and holding out a tray with drinks to the three men.

Tony smiled a thanks at the waitress as he look one with an umbrella. "It's music, Gibbs," he replied as he lifted his drink to his lips. "Don't be so paranoid." He grinned as the two FBI agents looked at him. "You know we're professionals."

---

LIN'S NYC APARTMENT

Vivian and Gibbs headed up the stairs, when Gibbs suddenly held up a hand. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.

Vivian just shrugged but pulled her weapon anyhow.

The two of them slid up the stairs as quietly as possible, covering each other as they went up. When they got up to the apartment, Vivian slowly slid in the key and turned it as Gibbs kept his weapon aimed at the door.

Vivian kept her back to the wall and slowly, with her left hand, pushed the door in. It was empty.

The FBI agent went in first, scanning living room and giving the clear. Gibbs then headed for the kitchen, Vivian behind him. They'd barely gotten there when a voice said in a low tone, "Who are you?"

Gibbs whipped around, to find a man standing behind Vivian, a gun aimed at the base of her head. "Who are you?"

"I'm asking the questions here," the man replied, deathly calm. "Put down your weapons."

Gibbs and Vivian slowly lowered their weapons to the floor. "I'm Special Agent Johnson, FBI," the woman said slowly. "That's Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

Vivian felt the gun move away slightly, and the taut arm holding the weapon to her go slack. She suddenly turned quickly, pulling her body to the side as she knocked away the pistol behind her. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

The man just glared at them and went over to shut the door. "I could ask you the same."

Gibbs and Vivian watched him closely. He was a shade under six foot, with light brown hair. His eyes were sharp, but it was hard to tell what color they were in the shadows. It was enough, though, for both of them to recognize him from the surveillance photos. The three-piece suit wasn't there, but the face was his.

"We're searching for Major Kate Lin. Who are you?" Gibbs replied harshly.

"Need to know," the man replied shortly as he reholstered his Baretta.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

"Where is everyone?" Danny asked as he and Martin came into the bullpen.

"Samantha and Cate are flying in now," Vivian replied, "I don't know where you guys left Agent DiNozzo, and Jack and Agent Gibbs are down in interrogation. What did you guys find?"

Martin and Danny slid into the chairs next to her. "Well, NCIS has a medical examiner who likes to talk to dead bodies and tell stories," Danny replied with a grin, "and they have a goth-dressing lab technician who knows what she is doing."

Vivian just raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard way more than I want to about a seaman apprentice who was found with 'Semper Fi' shaved in his body hair," Martin replied in such a tone that Vivian had to chuckle. "All before he was killed."

"So." Vivian leaned forward.

"We didn't talk to anyone, like Jack said. We did get her medical records, but that didn't tell us much besides the fact that she's got a weak stomach and is allergic to nuts."

Vivian gave them a look of exasperation, then slowly furrowed her brow. "She had peanut butter in her refrigerator."

"Jif?" Martin asked.

Vivian shrugged. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Martin said. "That made me wonder too. Wittenstein's apartment had a lot, though. At least he know it was him she was with."

"So where's he?"

"Dead. Killed not far from her apartment yesterday morning."

Vivian groaned. "I'm going to kick myself if this just turns out to be a lover's spat gone wrong."

"Both the surveillance tapes of the entrances into her New York apartment and her DC apartment were looped, and there's no other indication anyone was in there," Danny supplied.

"Tony had Abby - that's his goth-dressing lab technician - run ballistics on the bullet," Martin continued. "It's from a Baretta, 21 she's guessing. Lin carries a - "

"Colt 1911," Vivian finished.

"Yup," Martin replied. "But. There was a Baretta round found in Lin's apartment. Same make, Abby guesses."

"Baretta 21, huh," Vivian said, a slow smile crossing her face. "Let me see that."

---

"Little uncomfortable, Mr. Webb?" Jack asked, crossing his arms.

The CIA agent just rolled his eyes as he sat back in his seat. Jack had to admit, he was beginning to get a little frustrated. The man had just been one bundle of sarcastic comments after another; he would have tolerated it if he had been of any help, but after just half an hour, all they had from him was a name. The only reason they even knew he was CIA was because they'd looked in his file and done some calls.

Jack could tell his NCIS counterpart was getting just as frustrated, although all three men continued to remain as calm and unruffled as if they were playing poker.

"I'm usually the one doing the questioning." Clayton Webb shrugged nonchalantly.

"Do you know this man?" Jack pushed a photo of Wittenstein in front of Webb.

"Maybe."

"You should," Gibbs replied calmly, staring the other man down. "Your bullet was found in his back."

Webb rolled his eyes. "You didn't need to investigate that. I would have told you. I shot Wittenstein."

"Why?"

"Need to know."

Jack could see Gibbs taking a mental slow breath, and he knew he himself was doing the same. Both men were about to throttle the smart-alecky, well-dressed man.

"Wittenstein and Lin were dating," Jack said pointedly. "Did you know that?"

"Give Kate some credit," Webb replied sarcastically. "She's not stupid enough to get involved with Wittenstein."

"Found his cologne mixed into her bedsheets, and peanut butter in the fridge although she's allergic to nuts. He had keys to both her New York and DC apartments."

Webb shrugged. "She have any to his?"

"No," Gibbs replied, still watching the inscrutable man carefully. "But most women prefer their own beds."

Webb just rolled his eyes.

"How well do you know the major?" Gibbs asked suspiciously.

"Better than you."

"Apparently," Jack replied, watching the man steadily as he crossed his arms. "You called her 'Kate.'"

"That's her name."

"Sounds kind of cozy to me," Jack replied. If this turned out just to be a jealous lover's spat, he really was going to shoot something.

---

"What've we got on Wittenstein?" Vivian asked.

"Jacob Wittenstein, age 37," Danny replied. "Graduated Yale fifteen years ago, then joined the NSA...there's one year unaccounted for about halfway through that."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"What about Webb and Stockwell?"

"Clayton Webb...age 42," Tony read. "Harvard graduate, 1984 National Cryptographic school. NSA for a year, State Department after that. There are a few years that are 'unaccounted for' between the time he graduated from the cryptographic school and when he joined the NSA in 1990."

"Webb and Wittenstein could've crossed then," Vivian murmured. "What about Stockwell?"

"Stockwell...age 51," Martin replied. "Amherst graduate, Harvard graduate school, lots of post-grad linguistic work here and there. He's been with the State Department ever since graduation."

"That was unhelpful."

"Um. But Tony and I cross-checked," Martin replied, holding up a small chart. "Wittenstein is Stockwell's nephew." He paused to think about it for a moment. "Kind of. Half-nephew? Sort of?"

"Half-nephew?" Vivian asked, a slight tone of incredulity in it.

"Stockwell had a sister who married a guy. She divorced him. Husband #1 remarried, and that second marriage produced Wittenstein."

"They keep in contact?"

Tony grinned.

---

"She wasn't seeing Wittenstein," Webb groaned, in a tone that obviously said he couldn't believe he had to suffer these idiots.

"Why? Wittenstein seeing the major socially is such a bad idea?" Gibbs was a little sarcastic. "Or...just to you?"

Webb rolled his eyes. "Lin and Wittenstein don't get along," he replied. "The last person she'd give extra keys to is him. He copied them. On any training bit she would do, she'd most likely leave her keys in her locker. To gain access to her things, it would have to be somebody pretty high up on that base."

"You're saying somebody at the station sold her out? Copied the keys and gave 'em to Weinstein?"

"Took awhile there, Sherlock," Webb replied sarcastically.

"And how do we know we can trust you?" Jack retorted. "How do we know you didn't do it?"

Webb just smirked. "You don't."

---

"Hey, look who's back," Martin greeted as the two women came into the bullpen. "How were all the chickens and pigs?" He flashed a teasing grin at them.

Samantha made a playful face at him, which made him grin wider.

"Hey," Vivian greeted them as she came into the bullpen. "How'd it go?"

"Pretty good," Samantha replied. "It appears our major has a soft side."

"Either that, or she's got multiple personalities," Tony commented.

"What happened here?" Cate asked.

"We found the guy who was snooping around her apartment," Martin replied.

"No way!" Both Cate and Samantha were suddenly interested.

"He's dead. And Viv and Gibbs caught a live one. Jack and Gibbs are downstairs with him right now, giving him hell." Vivian handed Samantha a file and then said to the both of them, "We're going to need all of Clayton Webb's phone calls and cell phone calls from the past year, at least."

---

"What were you doing in the Major's apartment?"

"Need to know."

Gibbs leaned over to stare. "I need to know."

"When was the last time Lin talked to you?" Jack asked.

"Two days ago."

"Webb," Webb answered his ringing cell.

"It's me."

"Kate?"

"No, the Easter Bunny. Yes, it's me." There was a little static. "Are the soft-shell crabs out yet?"

"Too early, Kate."

"Hm. So?"

Webb chuckled. "Why don't you try the carp?"

She laughed. "Carp for lunch? It's always been the crabs."

"We'll try something more familiar for you this time. You do this assignment right, and I'll make it a dinner, on me."

"Yeah." There was a long silence, and then: "I don't think Stockwell likes me."

"We're not in this for a popularity contest."

"You know what I mean."

"Kate, I can't help that."

For awhile there was no sound on the other end, and then she commented, "I hate New York. Are the cherry blossoms out yet?"

Webb sighed. "No, not yet. I'll let you know."

---

Samantha clicked off the media player on her computer and turned around. "That's it."

"So he was telling the truth about the phone conversation," Jack muttered. "Cherry blossoms," he groaned.

"What about those surveillance tape photos?" Gibbs asked.

"That one photo was Webb," Vivian replied. "But, it was several days before Lin's disappearance, right around the time Stockwell said he'd seen them. He hasn't been back since."

"Webb won't say anything else?" Cate asked.

Jack shook his head. "And he has an alibi. He's been in Washington, and if he hasn't been visiting his mother or his girlfriend, he's been at work."

Martin, who had been silent until now, suddenly sat up. "Cherry blossoms. There's a...there's a...the tree by her apartment complex in Washington," he said, suddenly remembering. "When Lin looks out the window in the spring, she most likely can see it."

There were a few shrugs.

"She's asking him to check her apartment," Jack replied slowly, catching on to his junior agent's train of thought. "She wanted him to check her Washington apartment."

"He goes, and he finds Jacob Wittenstein snooping, so he kills him later, away from the apartment, so as not to arouse suspicion about her," Martin finished.

"What was Wittenstein's latest assignment?"

"He was assigned to ol' Jimmy Stockwell," Tony replied, raising an eyebrow. "We really oughta ask our little spook friend what else he knows."

"We'll do that," Jack replied. "Now - "

"Cate, you're with me," Gibbs interrupted, getting out his chair and grabbing his coat. "Tony, keys."

Tony tossed them over his head at his boss.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack crossed his arms.

"Stockwell's," Gibbs replied. "You coming, Cate?" The two disappeared around the corner.

Jack was about to protest when Tony cut in. "Um, Agent Malone." Five faces turned to him. "I think...Gibbs has...." Seeing the faces staring at him, even with the tiniest bit of hostility, Tony swallowed. "Gibbs better give me hazardous duty pay for this," he mumbled.

"What?" Jack asked expectantly.

"Gibbs...has dealt with CIA before. He's got clearance that'll let him see the dead aliens in Area 51," Tony replied, a hint of pride and admiration in his voice.

"'Cause he killed them?" Danny muttered.

"Through NCIS we can access...a...lot on the CIA databases," Tony replied, "because a lot of the sailors and Marines are involved in classified stuff. They may have been deliberately blocking you, or just blocking you because...FBI...is...domestic." He trailed off when he saw the looks on their faces. "Or maybe not."

---

NAVAL STATION

Stockwell came into the room, just in time to see Cate drop a huge fat folder into a box. "What are you people doing?" he exclaimed.

"Seizing your files," Gibbs replied, stating the obvious.

"It's part of our little investigation into Major Lin's disappearance." Cate smiled sweetly at him, then continued working.

"What, you think I did it?" The two agents ignored him and kept working. "Well, you're wrong."

Gibbs just chuckled and put on a mock tone of disappointment. "I try so hard not to be wrong, don't I, Cate?"

"You're very conscientious in that regard, Gibbs," Cate nodded seriously. *whoomp* and another folder fell into the box.

"Look," Stockwell growled. "She and I didn't get along. But she was good. And while I have my suspicions, I don't think she's rogue yet. Besides, what does all this have to do with me?"

Gibbs and Cate exchanged looks. Cate shrugged. "Methinks he doth protest too much." Gibbs just chuckled as they got back to work.

Stockwell groaned. "I don't know where she is, or how this happened."

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, getting into his face. "I bet that's why you sent one of your lackeys to her apartment in Washington. Armed. How did you know she would go back there?" he asked, his voice reaching a dangerous, low tone.

"Are you insinuating I tried to kill her?" Stockwell exclaimed, his ire rising.

Gibbs didn't back off, maintaining his toe-to-toe contact with him. "Oh, I try so hard not to insinuate, don't I, Cate?"

"You rarely insinuate, Gibbs," Cate replied from where she was peeking into the filing cabinet. She banged the door shut and moved on to the next row.

Stockwell sighed and sat down in one of the chairs in his office. "Look, I don't want this to get out past these walls, OK?"

Gibbs only looked at him.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

Four junior agents looked up nervously as a large cart was wheeled in. "What's this?" Danny asked.

"Agent Todd just called, said they were coming with Stockwell's latest files and asked if we coulddn't get up everything. So I decided to poke around Stockwell's finances," Vivian replied with a meaningful look.

The four agents promptly sat up in interest.

"It seems our Mr. Stockwell is quite a financial genius," Vivian replied as she put a large box down in front of Martin. "Those are his bank statements" she plunked down another box in front of Danny "That's his stocks and mutual funds, plus CDs, the whole thing." She slid into a nearby seat.

"What're we looking for?" Samantha asked.

"Motive," Vivian replied as she logged onto her computer.

---

NAVAL STATION

"Lin...was...a problem. Uncooperative. Doesn't work well with others. For a female she's very much a loner."

Cate crossed her arms. "What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that women...tend to be...a little more social, that's all. Lin wasn't. Most of the guys I had as backup kept asking to be reassigned. Then I finally asked one of them why, and he said that...Lin...was involved with some stuff that...wasn't...." He sighed. "On the up and up."

"How so?"

"She'd had contact with a few agents who were demoted for leaking information," Stockwell replied. "A lot of contact. Her last few cases were with, let's see, Carrie Simpkins, Jack Canton, and Freddy Rodriguez."

"So?"

"They all were turncoats," Stockwell replied. "That's 'so'."

Cate's eyes slowly drifted from Stockwell's face to Gibbs, then back. By all accounts, he was telling the truth...or he was a good liar.

Gibbs nodded and stood up. "You should've told us that earlier, Stockwell," he said heavily.

"Is there anything else?" Stockwell asked.

"Eh," Gibbs shrugged as he moved away. He held out a clipboard with a sheet on top. "Sign this."

"What's that for?"

"It's a receipt for you files. All of 'em."

"I...already told you everything."

Gibbs shrugged. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

"I'm calling my legal cousel," Stockwell stormed.

"Would that your CIA counsel would insinuate plenty."

Stockwell was red-faced and infuriated as he stomped out.

"He looked like he was telling the truth," Cate murmured.

"I'm not buying it," Gibbs muttered.

"You never buy anything, Gibbs," Cate replied. She carried a box over and set it on the cart. They watched Stockwell heading down the hall. "Do people react that way because we're NCIS, or do you just have that effect on them?"

Gibbs smiled a little. "I'd like to think it's me."

---

Tony's cell phone rang, and he picked it up. "Hello."

"I've got three names for Malone," Gibbs' voice crackled over the line. "Is he around? I can't reach him."

"Uh, he's talking to Webb," Tony replied, sitting up. "Agent Johnson is down there, too."

Samantha, Danny, and Martin looked up.

"Cate and I are bringing in all of Stockwell's records. He was there, and he said stuff about Lin working with three CIA turncoats. Carrie Simpkins, Jack Canton, and Freddy Rodriguez."

Tony scribbled as fast as he could as he headed out so he wouldn't be heard. "Carrie...Simp...kins...Jack...Cant - Jack Canton?"

"YES, DiNozzo."

Tony was a little miffed at Gibbs' impatient tone. "And the last one?"

"Freddy Rodriguez."

"OK."

"Run a background check on all of them, and get those names to whomever is questioning Webb," Gibbs' voice continued, then paused.

Tony held his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and pushed the list across to the FBI agents. "Gibbs got three names he wants checked out." He handed them the list as he quickly copied another one. "This one's for Agent Malone."

Danny nodded and took the slip of paper and hurried out.

"You guys have anything?" Gibbs asked.

"Stockwell is really doing what his name says - he appears to have put a lot of money into the stock market. Within the last year, he had a huge amount of money. No idea where it's from, we're still looking."

"I need those names checked."

"Yeah, yeah. Ugh, Danny and Samantha'll do the names, Martin and I'll keep checking on Stockwell's finances."

---

Jack pushed the list across the table to the man. "Do you know these three names?"

Webb shrugged. "If I do?"

Jack had had it. He leaned forward. "Mr. Webb, it would behoove you to cooperate if you want to find your agent."

"If you want to find Kate," Webb replied, "you let me go. I've got contacts you Fibbies can only drool over."

"These are three CIA turncoats, Mr. Webb. We have reason to believe that your Major Lin is #4."

Webb just rolled his eyes.

"You know about this," Jack said, his voice rising.

"I...Stockwell...I had suspicions," Webb finally admitted.

"SUSPICIONS? And you didn't find it necessary to say anything?" Jack's voice rose.

"This is a CIA affair. I don't need the FBI or NCIS playing internal affairs for my agency," Webb growled.

"Well, a MISSING MARINE suddenly makes it both of our affairs," Jack barked. "Where would she go? She doesn't have the money yet."

"I don't know." Webb shrugged impatiently.

---

"There's no reason to think that Kate Lin is the one who's selling out," Samantha argued.

"There's no reason not to think that," Danny retorted. "Look at this. She's been working with the 'who's who' list of Benedict Arnolds. Simpkins and defunct DSD, Rodriguez and guerillas."

Tony strode in and dropped a folder onto the table with a huge grin as he slipped into his chair, grinning at Samantha. "You get the big bonus today."

"What's in there?" Danny asked puzzledly, looking up.

Martin had taken the file and was looking through it. "Samantha found the phone call from Stockwell to Wittenstein that asked him to 'do the job' on Lin. Nice."

"So, now the question is whether or not Stockwell sent Wittenstein as a legit sweeper to get rid of a rogue agent," Tony said, "or as an assassin to get rid of a legit agent." Danny opened his mouth to comment again, but Samantha glared at him.

"Well, we know Webb killed Wittenstein. So either Mr. Webb is either totally clueless about what's going on and believes whatever Lin tells him - and shoots Wittenstein. Or he's protecting a legit agent - and shoots Wittenstein."

"Or...Wittenstein crosses over to Lin's side," Danny insisted, "and goes rogue, so Webb kills him. And he's out to sweep Lin, too."

"So." Tony leaned forward. "Who're we up to now?"

"Jack Canton," Danny replied. "Although, I can't find what he did. CIA records aren't clear."

Tony sighed, his happy mood dimming. "He was supposed to deliver $2 mil for the return of two Marines. Instead, he decided to send back two sealed coffins and keep the money."

The heads turned to him. "How do you know?" Martin asked, looking up from the spot where he and Tony were still going over Stockwell's financial records. He groaned mentally. These finances were so boring...ooh, why hadn't he and Tony taken the rogue agents?

"Because Cate and I shot him," he replied. At the surprised looks, Tony finally explained. "His story was that he paid the $2 mil to the guys holding the Marines hostage. Instead, he kept the $2 mil and hoped they'd end up dead. Unfortunately for him, one of them escaped," Tony continued, a serious expression on his face. "He called home the day of his funeral. Something was fishy, so we dug up his coffin and popped it open."

"And it was empty."

"Nope. He was inside."

"What, he was calling from the grave?" Danny asked incredulously.

"The Marine was inside the coffin," Tony said again. "Canton found out we were on the case, found the Marine, and killed him."

"Well, autopsy would show how long he'd be dead, and if he were alive during the funeral," Martin replied. "They could nail him with that."

Tony sat back in his chair, interlocking his fingers and putting them behind his head. "Not if the body was embalmed alive."

"Eww!" Samantha gasped, and the two others looked just as sickened.

"Time of death, like you said," Tony replied, indicating Martin. "Can't have two day old bodies. The embalming hides it. We wouldn't have known except they used newspaper to plug the embalming spot, and the date on the newspaper was after the funeral."

"This," Danny said, looking at his two colleagues but shaking a finger at Tony, "is why I do Missing Persons. That...that's sick."

Samantha shuddered. "Well, that explains Canton. That'd also explain why his record just...ends. Not much explanation." She nodded at Danny. "What've we got on Webb?"

"Well, I can bet he's most likely not the turncoat," Danny muttered. "Webb was demoted over a year ago for giving the Navy and Marine JAG office classified information about the victims of the Angelshark sub. He then got sent out to Paramaribo."

"Where's THAT?" Tony asked.

"Surinam. Two hundred miles from Devil's Island," Martin supplied.

Tony winced. "Ouch. His boss must've been pissed."

"Ouch indeed," Samantha muttered.

"Well, it could have been worse, it could have been Canada or Australia," Martin chuckled.

"The time that Webb spent with the piranhas was the time that the CIA began to have problems with some of the agents reneging," Danny continued. "Not that they never have that problem, but there was rot somewhere in the agency, and it was trickling down. Webb was most likely a victim of it, which is why after...a pretty much successful assignment in Paraguay that got him nearly tortured to death, he came back here to his original position...as Deputy Director of Operations, Counter-Intelligence Center."

"Short on help?"

"Skilled and loyal help, I'm guessing," Samantha replied. "Webb doesn't seem to have done anything badly or wrong, he just...didn't toe the CIA line."

Tony nodded.

"So, why does the Deputy Director make a trip to New York just to look for some...Marine who isn't even regularly assigned to his agency?" Samantha asked.

"She's rogue," Danny replied, as if it were obvious.

ROAD IN NEW YORK

"What do you think we're going to find in Stockwell's files?" Cate asked as the car continued down the freeway. "Watch out."

Gibbs swerved expertly, avoiding the car cutting in front of him.

Cate let out her breath. "There's a turn signal in the car for a reason," she commented about the car they'd just managed to avoid, then muttered under her breath, "I hate cities."

Gibbs chuckled.

"So. What do you think we're going to find in Stockwell's personal files?" Cate repeated.

Gibbs shrugged. "A turncoat."

Cate sat back for a moment. Then she said quietly, "You don't think it's Lin."

Gibbs looked at her briefly. "Do you?"

Cate shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe her family's totally deluded."

Gibbs shrugged. "Is that what you got?"

Cate sighed in frustration, throwing up her hands as she peered out the window. "I don't know what to think. You should've seen her brother and her sister-in-law describe her. She's like some...cyborg." At the questioning look Gibbs shot her, she tried to clarify. "Talks business with them when she's not joking around, didn't shed a tear at her fiance's funeral." The agent paused. "By their recollection, she hasn't said 'love you' to anyone in the past...several years."

"C'mon, Cate, 'I love you' is overrated."

Cate rolled her eyes. "Speaking from personal experience?"

Gibbs didn't reply to her answer but continued, "She shows she cares by taking responsibilities she doesn't have to take and being faithful to them. You don't have to SAY anything to show that."

"Well, a word here or there would be nice," Cate muttered.

"Lovelace."

"What?"

"'To Lucasta - '"

"' - on Going to the Wars.' Oh c'mon, Gibbs, you don't really think she buys into - " Just then Gibbs' cell phone rang, and he motioned for Cate to pick it up. "Todd. ... Yeah. OK, can we have some directions? We're on the freeway coming in from Long Island. ... She flipped open her small notepad and scribbled. "OK. ... OK...left...got it. See you in a bit." She snapped the phone closed. "That was Tony."

"Yeah?"

"FBI just got called in; a bomb blew up one of the trash receptacles outside the...UStore storage warehouse. Found traces of blood on the floor, and some plastic handcuffs that were cut open."

"So?"

"Here're the directions," Cate handed him the notepad. "Somebody matching Lin's description was seen leaving the complex just after the bomb went off."

"No body?"

"He doesn't know, but there was no mention of one."

---

USTORE WAREHOUSE

The five agents looked around the large, empty storage room. There was a small heater on the side, its side cover having fallen off already; a metal desk chair lay on its side beside it. Across the room was a small table.

Gibbs snapped on his plastic gloves as Martin and Tony moved into the center of the room to look, and Cate went over to poke at the heater. "What did the LEOs say?" he asked as Samantha approached.

"Somebody heard a window shattering and came to look; just a minute later the bomb went off. Blew up the trash receptacle."

"The stench must be fun," Gibbs chuckled.

Samantha chuckled and continued to read. "He was running away from it when he saw...somebody...about five-four-to-six slipping away from the compound. He said he could see a ponytail, and that he yelled for her...or him...to stop, but the person didn't. And the trash receptacle was still on fire."

"How'd he know her height?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"Uh," Samantha checked her notes. "She ran past one holding dock they use. There's a dumbwaiter, and the top of the elevator was about at her neck. The elevator's five feet tall. They saw her at the southeast entrance, gave chase, but she got away."

"Yeah, they would," Gibbs replied. "If she's a trained Marine, she'll lose her tail. What about the bomb squad?"

"Uh," Samantha checked her notes. "They looked over the place when the bomb went off, and saw the broken window right above it, so they came up here. There was some residue left over on that table, which most likely should be analyzed with the reports on the bomb. Viv is talking to the witnesses."

Gibbs nodded. "Let's see if we can't pull prints off of here."

Samantha frowned. "Don't you want to look at the bomb residue first?"

Gibbs just looked at her. "It's not going anywhere. What I want to know is who threw it out the window, if that's the case, and where this 'who' is." He looked around and said quietly to Samantha, "All these LEOs are going to contaminate the crime scene. Get them out of here."

She nodded and headed over to the police chief to speak with him.



Martin walked up to where Tony was standing, staring down at the concrete. "What?"

"Do you see anything?" Tony asked quietly.

"There's a drop of blood," Martin pointed out the obvious. "And a few here."

"No, not just that," Tony said vaguely.

The two men bent down to examine the smooth concrete floor. Up close, Martin saw what Tony had. "Scratches...here and here...looks like something metal banging against it. And these scuff marks up here. A struggle?"

"Yeah." Tony pulled out his things and started analyzing the chinks.



"The wiring is mangled," Cate commented as Gibbs approached. From where she knelt by the heater, she pointed to the coil. The heating coil had been yanked out of its place at one spot, almost pulled straight, so that it hung out of the heater frame. "Hey, what's that?"

Gibbs careful peeled the little white residue from the heater and dropped it into the bag Cate was holding open. He took it from her and shook his head. "Just looks like a piece of plastic. Melted."

"The handcuffs," Cate said suddenly. "There were two plastic handcuffs we found on the floor." She quickly found them in the evidence box.

"She melted the cuffs," Gibbs replied, holding up another bag. There was a tiny hint of admiration as he looked to the spot where the heating coil had been pulled straight. "That's how she got out of them."

Cate, holding the cuffs, slowly fitted them together. One pair made a smaller ring than the other pair. "This one" she held up the smaller pair "must've been on her wrists. She must've pulled the wire out of the coil so that she could melt the handcuffs," Cate clarified as she caught on to Gibbs' train of thought. "But she pulled the coil out with her fingers?"

"Rather burnt fingers than a blown up body," Gibbs replied.

"How very MacGyver-ish," Cate chuckled as she crouched back down next to Gibbs to examine the wire.

Gibbs turned to look at her, amusement written on her futures.

"Richard Dean Anderson was cute," Cate defended herself, still smiling. "I wouldn't have minded working with him."

"The blond Anderson?" Gibbs wore his trademark trace smile as he turned back to the heater.

"Yep. But I'm not picky about hair color. He could've been a brunet."

Gibbs snorted. "Anderson's graying now."

"Like I said," Cate smirked, "I'm not picky. He just can't be - "

" - a bastard?" Gibbs' smirk grew wider.

"Yep." Cate grinned.



Martin stood up and looked around the room, thinking as his eyes swept the room. They swept past Gibbs and Todd, who were working on lifting prints from the heater area, and then past the chair, to the -

The chair.



Martin stands just about five feet away, watching.

A ghostly form of the major is squirming, struggling against her bonds. A thick, almost viscous line of sweat runs down from her temple to her cheek and is soaked up by the gag. Her eyes are wide with a mix of fear and concentration; they drift to the table holding the bomb, just a few feet away.

She pauses a moment, calming down. Her head turns, taking in her surroundings.

Martin sticks his hands into his pockets, still watching.

Suddenly she begins to rock her chair, straining forward, and then rocking backward. The chair doesn't budge at first, but soon it is rocking hard, and she falls onto her back.

There was a muffled cry of pain as she lies on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling, for an instant.

She squirms a little, but her ankles had been tied together and then to one of the bars underneath the chair. She slowly pushes herself onto her side, bruising her right arm.

She then flips herself slowly onto her knees. The chair is still bound to her back, and her hands are bound to the back of the chair. Her entire body, plus the chair, shake as she tries to catch her breath. For what seems to be an eternity, she sits there on her knees, hunched over, the chair strapped to her back.

As Martin watches, a single drop of thick sweat hits the floor.


He almost didn't notice when Samantha appeared next to him. "Martin?"

He snapped out of it for a moment, then looked across the room. "Be right back," he said, heading across the room and picking up the chair with his gloved hands. He ignored Todd's questioning look and brought it back over to where Tony was still checking the cracks.

Tony popped up his protective glasses. "Certainly something metal." He looked over at the chair Martin had in his gloved hands. "That would work."

Martin set the chair down upright next to the scuff marks. "Look. The scuff marks, they're the same distance apart as the chair's legs."

Samantha and DiNozzo crowded nearby. "So they are," Tony murmured.

"Samantha, sit down in the chair," he instructed. The woman gave him an odd look but obeyed. "Tony, could you hold the back two legs for me? Make sure they don't move." The NCIS agent nodded and gripped the two chair legs, holding them down.

Martin grabbed the back of the chair and slowly started letting it down. Samantha nearly jumped out of her seat. "Martin!"

"Trust me, OK?" Martin grinned. "Have those 'team trust' seminars taught you nothing?"

"I haaaate those," Tony groaned from the floor, and Martin grinned.

"Me too," Samantha said tensely. "I don't understand how jumping off a rock climbing wall and expecting my teammates to catch me is supposed to build trust."

"It doesn't. It breeds stupidity," Martin replied. He stopped halfway from letting the chair down and glared at the woman in the chair, who was gripping the edges of the chair tightly. "Samantha, will you just trust me on this one?"

Sam made a face. "You better not break anything."

"Put your hands behind your back, like you were handcuffed."

Samantha obliged, and Martin continued to let the chair down slowly until the chair - and his colleague - were on their backs. "Don't move," he said as he stood an turned to Tony. "Those scratch marks line up?"

Tony leaned in to examine the marks. "They're lining up just fine." He paused for a moment, thinking as he looked at Samantha and then at the small red marks on the floor. "Lin must've knicked herself on the way down, or when she hit. The blood spot is roughly where Samantha's head is." He paused, a slow grin forming on his face. "Yeah."

Samantha's eyes widened as she figured out what they were saying. "They tied her up in the middle of the room, and most likely left her," she said, still lying on the chair, back down. "They set the bomb and left."

"So she throws herself backward onto her back," Tony nodded, then winced. "Ouch."

"Well, she's a smart girl. She most likely held her head forward as she did that," Samantha said, turning her head sideways to look at the NCIS agent. "Just to prevent it from hitting the floor."

"The blood spot?"

"Maybe she hit her head, still, a little. Or maybe she was already bleeding from a wound," Samantha replied. Martin held out a hand to her, and she slowly extracted herself from the chair and let herself be helped up.

Gibbs and Cate came over, having seen what was going on. Tony stood up, a huge grin on his face.

"What've we got?" Gibbs asked.

"Seems our Major hails from the Nine Lives School," Tony replied. "That bomb was most likely meant for her."

"Tell us something we don't know."

"The chair was most likely here," Martin replied, pointing at the scuff marks on the floor. "We're guessing she was left tied up in the chair here in the middle of the room."

"Her captor - captors - set the bomb and leave," Samantha continued. "When they're gone, she pushes herself backward until the chair falls onto the back." She demonstrated with the chair. "From here, she can turn onto her side, and then, we're guessing, onto her stomach."

"She's still got her arms behind her back," Cate replied.

Martin clarified, "She's got a chair on her back, her hands behind her back, and just her knees."

"And most likely her face," Tony muttered. "Whew."

"Now the question is, where do you go?" The three agents looked over at Gibbs and Cate.

"To the heater," Gibbs replied, holding up one of the bagged and tagged handcuffs and the melted bit he'd plucked off the heater. "She pulled out the coil of the heater with her hands. Then she must've put that bent point against the handcuffs. The heat melted the plastic enough."

Tony winced. "So she worms her way on her knees...and what, her shoulders? Her chin? From here" he pointed across the large room to the heater "to there?" He winced. "Ouch. Talk about carpet...floor...burn."

"She must've had to do some fancy manuevering to get her hands close enough to that coil. She would've have to turn herself around," Samantha muttered.

"So she gets out of the handcuffs," Gibbs said, bringing them back on topic. "And then she goes to the table and tosses the bomb out the window."

"And takes off," Samantha finished.

"Yeah, but if you run, you have to run SOMEWHERE," Tony replied. "So where is she going?"

"Or to whom," Samantha muttered.

"She's injured. Where would she go for help?"

"Not to Stockwell," Gibbs replied. "Let's check out the residue, bag and tag everything and get it onto the truck." As everyone dispersed, Cate stood off to the side, numbly.

Tony's eyes flickered to his boss, who too had noticed, and then to Samantha, who he saw watching them. As the other police and agents on scene worked to clear the area out, Cate crouched down where the chair had been.

Tony looked to Gibbs with a questioning look, and his boss gave an imperceptible nod. Tony made his way over the door towards their colleague.

Samantha walked up behind the senior NCIS agent as Tony moved out of earshot. "Is Cate OK?" she asked softly.

Gibbs didn't reply.



"Cate?" Tony approached from behind. Her head snapped up so fast Tony actually backtracked. "Whoa, it's just me."

"What do you want." Her voice was uncharacteristically flat.

"We, uh...we're going to be going in a bit." When she didn't move, Tony cleared his throat. "Cate, are you OK?"

"Fine." When Tony looked hurt, she tried to soften her voice. "I...I just want to double check something, tell everyone I'll be out in a few minutes."

Tony nodded and retreated.

Cate's mind was a whirl as the room spun around her. As she stared at the heater, she could almost see the major there, lying on her side, pulling out the wire with her fingers, trying to ignore the pain. She could almost hear the first sizzle of the coil against the plastic, and she could swear she almost smelled slightly singed flesh.

Why couldn't she have done it? When that terrorist had locked her up in the body cooler, she just couldn't think. Why couldn't she have figured a way out? She'd gotten in, there had to have been a way out. Why hadn't she thought of it?

She was dimly aware that Tony, Gibbs, and Samantha were most likely watching her, and she heard it when the door to the warehouse opened and Martin came in, oblivious. She heard him talking and mention their victim...she snapped out of her thoughts and hurried over just to hear the end of it.

Martin shook his head. "Look, I don't know," he insisted, looking as surprised and in disbelief as they rest of them.

"Don't know what?" Cate asked.

Martin blew out a breath. "Why Major Lin just turned up at the clinic at the naval station."

---

NAVAL STATION CLINIC

Jack and Danny strode into the clinic. The secretary was about to protest, but they went right past her into the examining rooms.

Inside, on one of the tables, lay an ethnically Chinese woman, tightly cropped black hair in almost a man-ish cut. She smelled the slightest bit of gunpowder. Her clothes were dirty and scuffed, and there was dirt and grime all over the knees of her pants. Her arms were bruised, and her chin was red and scratched up. One of her hands lay palm-up, her fingers burned.

She looked pretty bad. Even if they had had a photo of her, which they didn't, Jack wasn't sure they could even identify the woman by the picture. The major looked like she'd been through hell - her face generally was one big bruise, although at least it looked like the bruise was healing.

Stockwell skidded around the corner and came in. "Agent Malone."

"This is Danny Taylor, one of my agents," Jack introduced shortly. He tilted his head at the woman on the bed.

"I can speak for myself," she retorted as she sat up slowly. "Kate Lin."

Stockwell sighed. "I'm sorry to have had to drag you into all this, Agent Malone, Agent Taylor. It appears that everything is all right now."

Jack's eyes darted between Lin and Stockwell. "I'll determine that. Major? How're you feeling?"

"Good to be alive, sir."

"Can you tell us what happened?"

She looked up at Stockwell, who replied, "You talk, and I'll stop you when I think it's too much."

She nodded and slowly tried to sit up, helped by the doctor and Stockwell. "I...I had been sold out by one of the guys I was supposed to be working for," she said quietly. "Jacob Wittenstein."

Danny pulled a photo out of his pocket and showed it to her. She nodded. "Yeah. I figured if I showed up at the station any more, he or somebody else would try to kill me."

"So you decided to skip out," Jack replied.

She nodded. "I couldn't call, because everything was being tracked."

"How'd they find you?"

"They were waiting for me when I tried to go back to my apartment," she said quietly. "I entered and found them going through my things, my closet, everything."

Danny's eyes flickered to Jack's. Her uniforms. That would explain why the schmucks had the uniforms dry cleaned.

"I...didn't make it out fast enough, and they took me out to that storage spot and tried to blow me up."

Just then Danny's phone rang, and he moved outside to take the call.

"So why come back here?" Jack asked.

She looked surprised. "I'm reporting to Stockwell," she said in a puzzled tone. "Of course I'd come here."

"Didn't you fear Wittenstein?"

"Oh," she replied, understanding. "When they caught me, they told me that Wittenstein had been shot in Washington. They figured I'd done it, or that Stockwell had found out about him and swept him. I guess they told me as part of payback, since they figured I'd die. It wouldn't matter whether or not they told me." At their nods, she looked up at them. "If there's anything else?"

"You still planning to do this pickup tomorrow?"

She shrugged. "Yeah."

"Don't you think it won't work, now that you've been sold out once?" Danny asked, having just returned.

She shrugged. "We'll see. If it doesn't work, no sense in worrying about it now."

Jack chuckled. "Spoken like a true soldier," he said, getting a tiny smile in return. He reached out, patted her knee affectionately, and said, "I'm glad this one ended well. The Marines are lucky to have you."

She smiled.

"Do you need anything else, Agent Malone?" Stockwell asked.

"No."

"Can I...have my files back?" Stockwell asked.

Jack sighed as if NCIS had been his latest migraine. "I'll talk to Gibbs, but I can't control NCIS."

Stockwell nodded.

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

Samantha turned in her seat. "Where're Gibbs and Viv?"

"They're talking to Webb about what happened, why?" Cate asked.

"Danny called. It appears they've found Major Lin. Bruised - in all the right spots, too - and she told them as much as she could - Wittenstein sold her out, so she disappeared because she was afraid somebody would come after her. They found her anyhow - told her Wittenstein was dead, tried to blow her up, and when she escaped, she went straight to Stockwell."

"So it's over," Tony replied.

"That was a little easy," Martin muttered, a tone of suspicion in his voice.

"Yeah, it appears Stockwell AND Lin both weren't turncoats." Samantha shrugged. "Listen, um, Martin and I are going to wrap this up, and then when Viv and Gibbs come up, could you let them know?"

Cate nodded.

Samantha rolled over to Martin's desk. "OK, I'm going to read you these numbers, and you put 'em in."

Martin nodded.



"Guess our boss' golden gut was only bronze this time," Cate muttered.

Tony shook his head. "Gibbs won't buy it."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, Tony, but Gibbs CAN be wrong," Todd said in an annoyed tone, turning to look at her colleague.

The man groaned. "Cate, are we going to get into this AGAIN? Why can't you just accept that he's right? Like all the time?"

"Why do you always make him out to be GOD?"



Some ways away, behind the cubicle wall which blocked Martin's computer from the general view of the office, Samantha and Martin exchanged looks. Samantha winced and quietly pulled a chair over to sit, so that she wouldn't be seen over the partition.



"Well, Gibbs is close to it in terms of NCIS," Tony retorted.

"Shoot me now, then," Cate moaned, flopping over her files. "Gibbs as God."



"She really hates her boss," Martin muttered, looking a little surprised but amused.

Samantha shook her head, a small smile crossing her face. "No, she likes him just fine. He just annoys her." At Martin's disbelieving look, Samantha shrugged. "Trust me."



"Aw c'mon, Cate, it can't be that bad."

"Oh, right. Let's see. If Gibbs were God, all the rivers would run coffee instead of water and no one would ever talk to each other."

"This is a bad thing?" came a third voice.



Samantha and Martin exchanged 'uh oh' looks and, as one, slowly peeked around the corner. Gibbs was standing behind Cate; the two NCIS agents obviously hadn't seen the senior agent come in. Or heard, for that matter. Not that anyone else had - he seemed to just materialize out of nowhere.

Martin winced, but he couldn't help the grin crossing his face. "Busted."



"Uh, 'course not, boss," Tony could be heard replying. "Coffee rivers sound good."

Cate rolled her eyes at Tony, then turned around to face her boss, somewhat awkwardly. "They found Major Lin, and she told Agents Malone and Taylor everything. Do you still want to look at Lin's LESs?"

"I don't know," Gibbs said, shrugging at her. "Have you figured out where...Mister Webb is in this whole thing yet?"

Cate nodded a little nervously and then held up the packets. "These are all Lin's LESs going back five years. Every state department assignment is in yellow highlighter, DIA green, and any oddities in blue."

Gibbs nodded and picked up Cate's cup of coffee from the table and drank it as he listened to her.

Cate forgot all her awkwardness at being overhead and made a face. "I was drinking that!" she protested.

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was," Cate insisted belligerently. "Bastard," she muttered.

"Yep. Leave the files on the desk. I'll read 'em when I get back. I'm going - "

"For coffee?" Cate asked, looking at her cup.

" - to the head." With that, Gibbs strode back out of the office.

"Oh, I know what else Gibbs would have done if he were God," Tony suddenly commented.

"What, make a palm-size portable head?" Cate muttered, eyeing her coffee with a disgusted look.

"He would've made Eve a redhead."

---

NYC STATION, OUTSIDE
"That's not Major Lin," Jack commented categorically as they emerged from the building.

"How do you know?" Danny asked, puzzled and then intrigued. "She looked pretty beat up to me, and she fits Martin's description - scratched up face, bruises on her forearms, a lot of dirt on her knees. And those bruises on her face - they're not fresh, which fits what we've been finding."

"Did you actually see her knees?" Jack asked.

Danny slowed. "No."

"I patted her on the knee," Jack replied. "She didn't flinch whatsoever. And there were no bandages under those pants, which weren't that thick." He watched as realization dawned on his junior agent.

Danny's expression hardened. "So where's the real Major Lin?"

x x x x x
Lovelace: "I could not love thee, deare, so much, loved I not honor more."
x x x x x

NYC FBI OFFICE

"So," Martin said as Danny and Jack came in. "Our Major's safe and sound?"

Danny flung his notebook onto his desk, and there were a few surpised looks. "I sure hope so," he snarled. "Because she's not in that clinic."

Samantha furrowed her brow. "You said she was."

"Stockwell's using a stand-in to get us off the case," Jack replied shortly. "What about Webb?"

Gibbs sat back in his chair, having seen the whole thing. "He's pretty mad all around. Something about if he were on the field, this wouldn't have happened."

"Does he know about Stockwell?" Jack asked.

"What about him?"

"What you were thinking," Jack said impatiently. "About him being the turncoat."

"He's not talking. You tell him what happened, maybe he'll tell."

"Well then, let's go." Without another word, Jack and Gibbs left the room.

---

Webb groaned and swore under his breath.

"Did you know about this?" Gibbs asked.

"I had my suspicions, like I said," the man retorted.

"You better tell us what is going on," Jack said in a low voice, his tone cold. "If you give a whit about your agent, then you better start talking."

"Has she contacted you?" Gibbs asked, the question bordering on a snarl.

"No, not in the last two days."

"Start talking!" Jack barked.

"I had my suspicions about Stockwell, which is why I brought Lin onto this case - plus the fact she can speak and understand Serbian. Lin was ostensibly reporting to Stockwell, and Stockwell to me. I was using Lin to double check on what Stockwell was telling me." Webb shrugged. "Also vice versa."

"And?" Gibbs' voice rose.

"No 'and,'" Webb replied. "That's it."

"This drop-off...pick-up...whatever...when is it?"

"Need to know."

"Where?"

"Need to know."

"She's going to be dead," Jack growled. "You better start talking."

Webb rolled his eyes. "Stockwell said it himself. She only has a time. She doesn't have a place - she was supposed to show up to get that. The whole reason you were on the case is because she didn't show for the meeting."

Jack sat back. "She doesn't know about the pick-up."

"She can't go because she doesn't know where it is," Webb said sarcastically.

"So what're you going to do," Jack retorted in the same tone. "Sit around and wait for her to call?"

"She's got to come out of hiding sometime," Webb shrugged. "In the meantime, I'm going to use somebody else to do the assignment."

"In the meantime," Gibbs imitated, his eyes a stormy, dark blue, "Stockwell is still hunting her."

Webb rolled his eyes. "Gibbs. For a former Marine, you sure don't have much confidence in a Marine's abilities, do you."

---

"We let him go?" Jack asked as Gibbs finally came up into his office.

"No reason to hold him," Gibbs replied heavily. "And it's most likely better for Major Lin if he's out there and not sitting in here."

Jack nodded. "Have a seat. We're just talking the case."

"Or lack thereof," Cate muttered.

Tony looked at his boss, and then started. "Here's what we got. Our Marine is still missing. Stockwell is most likely the turncoat, and he's using a stand-in for the major to throw US off track. The pickup has apparently just been tossed to the wayside, and our little spook is just going to sit around and wait for our Marine to call."

"Yup." Gibbs leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand in frustration over his face.

"That's just stupid," Cate muttered.

"Never leave a man behind," Jack replied, his tone souring slightly. "She should have stayed with the Marines."

"No kidding."

"Webb wouldn't just decide to leave the pickup by the wayside," Vivian suddenly spoke up in disagreement, her brow furrowed as she shook her head. "He's too focused for that. He wouldn't just let it go. And he's not going to use somebody else. He doesn't know who to trust at this point."

"You're saying that Lin is still going to be the one doing the assignment," Samantha replied for clarification.

"Yeah, but we know she doesn't know the location," Danny replied. "So how is she going to get there?"

"Stockwell didn't tell her." Cate shrugged. "She didn't even see Wittenstein - that bullet was from Webb's gun. I doubt whoever tried to blow her up told her."

"Well." Martin leaned back in his chair. "That bomb was pretty sloppy work. Stockwell didn't seem to have really bright help, there. They might've gotten cocky and told her."

"No, seriously," Danny disagreed. "She'd most likely find out from Webb. That's the only guy she can trust."

"We've been tracking his cell phone and everything for the last three days," Samantha replied, shaking her head. "Besides that cherry blossom conversation, there was no other correspondence."

Gibbs' eyes flashed. Cate shrugged. "What?"

"The phone conversation. Where's the transcript?"

Samantha went to her desk and flipped through a few stacks, then found it and handed it to him.

Gibbs scanned the transcript quickly as the others watched him carefully. "Soft-shell crabs...carp...."

"Chesapeake Bay area doesn't really have carp," Cate replied, her brow furrowing. "Catfish and soft-shells, but not carp."

"Neither does New York," Vivian replied.

Danny shrugged doubtfully. "We don't grow mangoes and we get them shipped in."

"So why does he promise her a carp dinner?" Cate asked. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. "He's not," she said slowly as understanding dawned. His slight nod showed she was on the right track.

"Philly has carp," Tony said suddenly.

Seven faces turned to him, and Gibbs gave him a nod to continue.

A slow grin spread on NCIS agent's face. "That area, anyhow. See, when I was working in Philadelphia, there were these guys called the 'Philly Fish Guys.' They just fish and then throw 'em back. They caught a lot of carp. 24-incher is considered small."

"Wait a minute." Martin flipped through his little notebook. "Philly. She's from Philly, right outside the city."

"They're going to use an area she knows to do the pickup," Jack said slowly. "That's what Webb meant by 'familiar to you.' It's 1700, according to Stockwell, and I'm guessing that was the 'dinner' reference." Jack shrugged. "OK, but where specifically?"

"You fish carp on the Schyulkill," Tony replied, shaking his head. "Not the Delaware, generally. If she's actually in Philly, it shouldn't be that hard to find where she might be."

There was a long silence for a moment, and then a mad scramble for their bags.

---

PHILADELPHIA

"We've searched everywhere!" Samantha exclaimed breathlessly, throwing up her hands as she slowed her running to stop.

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples as Danny put his hands on his hips.

"Where's everyone else?" Samantha asked as she and Vivian approached.

"Martin and DiNozzo are still checking out the fishing boats, and I have no idea where Gibbs and Todd are," Jack replied.

"Right here," Gibbs replied, stepping up from behind the FBI agent, Cate just two steps behind.

"We have got less than half an hour," Vivian said.

Just then a car screeched into the lot behind them, and out jumped Martin and Danny.

"We found it," the NCIS agent said, still trying to catch his breath. "I talked to an old coworker here who used to do carp fishing. He said most of them still fish on the Schuylkill, but that one guy is moored in the Delaware, and he doesn't just fish for fun. He's the only one in dock right now. Erik Johannsson."

"Does he have ties to Lin or to Stockwell or to anybody?"

"Martin's checking," Tony replied.

"As well as I could, while Dale Earnhardt practiced," Martin replied, still typing away quickly as Danny held the laptop for him.

Cate shot Tony a 'told you so' look.

"Got him." They crowded around Martin. "Erik Johannsson, 78. Single. No ties. Not anything to any of our guys. He's Norwegian, and he's never met any of them, as far as I can tell."

"So why pick him?" Danny asked.

"It might be a random target," Jack replied. "No way people could really trace it because he doesn't have ties to anyone."

"But what if he's on board his boat?" Samantha asked.

"He won't be," Gibbs replied, already running to the car. "He's a target because he's predictable. He's most likely already turned in for the day. Tony, get us down there. Martin, you're with us, we're going to need the location of the docks."

Car doors slammed as the teams piled into the two town cars. Tony wheeled the car out of the lot and took off, Jack following close behind.

"He's going fast," Jack muttered, as he pressed his foot onto the pedal harder in order to catch up. "I'd hate to be in his car any time."

"How much longer?" Vivian asked over her intercom.

Cate replied, "Tony indicated two minutes, but I think that's if you drive normally."

Tony took a sharp right, and Jack followed. They wheeled into the parking lot and jumped out.

"Fan out," Jack instructed.

The pairs searched, running up and down piers and checking the names of the docked boats.

Tony and Martin were at one pier, at the last boat. Tony looked up and shook his head at Gibbs, then pointed silently at the next pier, which was still a good ways down.

Gibbs and Cate headed for the pier, their weapons drawn, as Jack and Danny disappeared behind them. Over the intercom line, they could hear Vivian and Samantha checking the alleyways to their left, and Jack and Danny to their right.

The pair slowly made their way towards the pier. They made their way between the boats, checking each one.

There was an old but sturdy boat near the end. As Cate checked the register, she nodded and pointed it out to Gibbs. They went around the boat, nearing it quietly. Gibbs was about to slip on board when he paused. At Cate's puzzlement, he slowly moved away, his eyes scanning the exterior of the boat.

A tiny red light flashed again just as the rocking of the boat again submerged the small explosives device stuck onto its hull. There was the softest of all locking noises, and the light flashed on permanently. Gibbs shoved Cate on ahead of him as the two dove off the pier and into the water.

Samantha and Vivian were watching one instant and then taking cover by an outside stairwell the next as there was one explosion, then another, then another, each progressively larger than the other. "There's no way that was only one bomb," Vivian muttered as she and Samantha finally got to their feet, when it was quiet. They watched as the last bits of the boat landed in the water.

The entire boat was gone. There was nothing left. The small bit of hull floated briefly and then sank rapidly, leaving just planks on the water, burning.

"Where're Cate and Gibbs?" Samantha asked from her spot. They advanced slowly, weapons drawn. "FBI!" she shouted to screaming bystanders. "Stay calm, and stay put!"

Tony and Martin emerged from where they'd taken cover and stood on the pier they'd just been searching, watching the wreckage in horrified fascination.

"DiNozzo!" shouted a voice from under their feet.

Tony looked down to see Cate and Gibbs in the water, looking like drowned rats. Cate was shivering, and her hair hanging over her face, some seaweed stuck in it. "Hey, you look like Cousin It," he joked with obvious relief.

Cate shot him a look of death.

Tony and Martin reached down and grabbed her arms, helping to haul her up. Cate's teeth rattled as she shivered. Jack and Danny came running, and just as Cate's feet touched the pier, they reached over the ledge to Gibbs.

"You two OK?" Samantha asked breathlessly as she and Vivian ran up.

"Just a little wet," Gibbs replied. "Cate? You OK?"

"I'm freezing," she muttered, her lips turning blue. Danny stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, but the shivering didn't stop.

Police cars and other unmarked town cars were wheeling into the area, and spectators were starting to gather. Somebody had obviously called an ambulance, because it soon arrived, alarms blaring.

"We could use the help over here," Vivian called when they jumped out.



Jack stood alone, watching as the debris from the fishing boat floated on the water - the debris that hadn't been incinerated in the explosion. The LEOs were already sweeping the area in boats, gathering up the evidence before the river current took it away.

Samantha came over to stand next to him, giving a concerned glance. "I guess she's really gone now."

"Yeah."

They stood in silence for a moment, and then she murmured, "Do you think there's the chance she might've...?" She trailed off, shrugging, but her expression still hopeful.

"That explosion?" Jack said, looking over the debris, then shaking his head. "No one's lucky that many times."

---

NYC FBI OFFICE

"Is it ready to go?" Gibbs asked as he crossed the bullpen.

Tony nodded. "All boxed up."

"All of it?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"Jack said something to them," Tony replied. "I think that FBI agent actually likes you, boss." The younger man grinned. "There's a first time for everything. 'Course, he might just be doing that to piss off Fornell and Freeman, too."

Gibbs just gave him a look and headed out to Malone's office.



Samantha looked over at her as Cate packed up. "You OK?"

"Yeah."

"Not sick from your little dip yesterday?"

Cate smiled a little. "Nope." She zipped up her bag and then said quietly, "Does it ever bother you?"

"What's that?" Samantha asked.

"Not finding them alive," Cate replied, with a small shrug. "Doesn't it ever bother you?" She paused a moment, then smiled a little wearily and added, "At least with most of our cases the guy is already dead."

Samantha chuckled softly, thinking for a moment. "Of course it bothers us when they're not alive." Her smile grew wider. "But with our every case we can hope they're still alive. More than can be said for you."

"Hope junkies." Cate smiled, and the two women laughed.



Tony watched as Gibbs shook hands with Malone, back there in the latter's office. He soon sensed Danny and Martin behind him, and he turned.

Danny looked at him carefully, then extended a hand. "Good luck."

Tony shook it. "Thanks."

"Don't kill yourself driving down there," Martin replied, then grinned as he extended a hand, which Tony shook.

"Whaddya think they're talking about in there?" Danny finally asked, apparently bursting with curiosity as he looked into Jack's office. At the surprised looks, he grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "Just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Martin replied, with a grin.

"Yeah, but cats have nine lives," Danny reminded, a similar grin on his face.

"And you're not on number nine yet?" Martin asked with mock incredulity.

"Funny, Fitzy. Funny."




"How many boxes?" Gibbs asked as Malone read the file.

"Twenty-seven. And you get to deal with the angry...carp...fisherman."

Gibbs just smiled as he made a few notes in his notepad. "I'm going to be doing paperwork for a week."

"My head on a platter," Malone commiserated. He handed Gibbs the file. "This is everything that was bagged and tagged throughout the whole investigation. That includes the boxes of the fishing boat. I'll send you anything else that comes up here."

Gibbs nodded his thanks.

"I'm wiping my hands of this business." Jack straightened a few things on his desk, and Gibbs turned to go. At the door, Jack suddenly said, "Oh, and Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turned around.

"If you see our mutual...friend...Tobias...Fornell," Jack deadpanned, drawing out the name, "tell him I said hello."

Gibbs raised an amused eyebrow.

"Personal greetings from New York to Washington, you know."

A trace smile crossed both Gibbs' and Malone's faces. As Gibbs disappeared down the hall, Jack was sure he could hear the man's laughter.

End