Gibbs’ three hour flight touched down in Houston at eight in the morning local time. He held a tight rein on his temper as he impatiently waited for his chance to deplane. Gibbs merely grunted at the stewardess as she gave him a cheerful ‘good morning’ and ‘thank you for flying with us’ when he walked off the plane. He hated those stupid platitudes and fake smiles.
He worked his way through the usual airport maze, stopping only to buy a cup of coffee. Gibbs grimaced when he took his first sip. It looked like coffee, and it smelled like coffee, but it definitely didn’t taste like his usual brand. It would just have to do until he could find something better. After being up all night, he wasn’t willing to go without.
He made a mental note to thank Abby for working her magic. Not only had she gotten him on a flight that took off and landed on time, but she also got him a rental car that was ready and waiting when he got to the counter. From now on, she was handling all his travel arrangements.
Gibbs tossed his duffle bag in the car, after he pulled out the directions McGee had printed out for him. He checked his cellphone as well. No messages. Damn. That meant they hadn’t made any headway while he was gone. McGee had managed to hack into the FBI database and had gotten photos of Renee Benoit’s body and autopsy report for Ducky to look at. While he did that, Abby hacked into NCIS and deleted from Tony’s personnel file references to Joe LaFiamma. All she’d had to do was remove the updated form, and leave the original---the one with Gibbs as his primary contact---in place. Ziva had gone to the office to find the hard copy file and shred anything else that might be a link they could have overlooked. She was also keeping an eye out for FBI agents that Fornell might send to tail or arrest them when he found out Tony wasn’t in D.C.
Gibbs sighed. He had hoped they’d have found something by now, but even he had to acknowledge he was asking a lot of them. Figuring out what killed a man and when without a chance to review the crime scene or actually touch the body wasn’t going to be easy. Not to mention he was making them work through the night. But his team was good, and Gibbs was confident they were up to the challenge. They had to be. He wasn’t going to see Tony go down for something he knew the younger man hadn’t done.
Gibbs read through the directions to the precinct where Tony now worked. He had no idea what shift Tony was on or when he might arrive at the office, but it seemed like the best place to start. In truth, it was just about the only place he could start. Gibbs had no idea where Tony was living. The national enforcement registry didn’t include home addresses or phone numbers.
He could have called the numbers he had for Joe and asked for Tony’s home number and address, but Gibbs was reluctant to do that. If Tony had confided in his cousin at all, and Gibbs was sure he had, then talking to Gibbs voluntarily wouldn’t be high on Joe’s list of things to do. The only leverage Gibbs would have to force Joe to tell him what he wanted to know was a possible murder charge and Tony being a person of interest in an on going case. Gibbs couldn’t see that as being a good way to introduce himself or start a conversation.
Gibbs made his way through the rush hour traffic. He cursed the crazy, stupid drivers vehemently, wondering how in the hell anyone got anywhere in Houston. His failure to abide by the rules of the road didn’t bother most of the other drivers. They practiced their own brand of kamikaze driving, determined to get where they were going at all cost and the hell with everyone else. Under other circumstances Gibbs might have enjoyed the challenge, but after no sleep and a cup of crappy coffee, he was hard pressed not to just draw his gun and shoot someone.
Nearly two hours after he’d left the airport, Gibbs finally made it to the precinct station, the Reisner Building . It was an impressive steel and glass structure that fit in well with surrounding skyscrapers. If not for the police shield etched into the glass and stamped into the concrete it could easily have been just another office building.
Gibbs parked in the parking garage across the street. It was pricey but better than leaving the rental on the street and shoving quarters into a meter. He had no idea how long this was going to take---but he knew better than to think it would be resolved in the time a few quarters would buy him. Last thing he wanted was to have to deal with his rental being towed.
Gibbs walked into the building. He wasn’t surprised to see a metal detector in place and a guard on duty. He pulled out his badge, showing his ID.
“Special Agent Gibbs with Naval Criminal Investigation Service,” Gibbs said, formally introducing himself. “I have my sidearm with me.” It was always a good idea to keep security informed that he was armed rather than have them overreact when they found a weapon.
The guard nodded. He held out a small plastic tray. “Please place your badge and all weapons inside.”
Gibbs dropped his badge in the small tray and carefully placed his gun in it. He added his knife. The guard didn’t even bat an eye at the additional weapon---his expression indicated he’d almost expected there to be more. It made Gibbs wonder what sort of people routinely came though the check point. After Gibbs had stepped through the metal detector, the guard offered him a clipboard with a sign in sheet. Gibbs quickly wrote his name. He handed back the clipboard.
“Who are you here to see?” The guard asked, offering the tray with his gun, knife and badge back to Gibbs.
“Anthony DiNozzo.”
The guard frowned. His gaze narrowed as he gave Gibbs a once over. “Gibbs? Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs?”
“Yes.” Gibbs felt suddenly uneasy, although he wasn’t entirely sure why.
The guard nodded once, reaching for the phone. “I’ll buzz upstairs and see if anyone in Major Crimes is available to escort you.”
“If you’ll tell me what floor I could just go up myself. No reason to bother•“
“It’s not a bother, Sir, it’s policy.”
The guard’s tone was firm. He wouldn’t tolerate an argument, that much was clear. And starting a fist fight in the lobby wasn’t going to get Gibbs any closer to seeing Tony. So he just bit back his usual response to being called ‘Sir’ and nodded. His jaw tightened as he listened to the guard’s side of the conversation with whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Lundy…I was trying to reach Joe…Oh? Right. Forgot about that…The guy he mentioned…the one Tony used to work for…he’s here asking to see Tony…Okay, we'll be here."
The guard hung up. "If you'll just have a seat, Sir," he pointed to a row of chairs along the wall, "someone will be with you shortly."
"Don't call me 'sir'," Gibbs snarled. He was more pissed people here already more knew about him than he did them, and that they might actively thwart his attempt to see Tony, than he was about the moniker. But it was a safe and normal thing for him to get annoyed with.
"Just trying to be polite,” The guard said calmly, not fazed by Gibbs’ attitude. “But if it works better for you for me to be rude….Go park your butt and wait, asshole, or I'll throw you the hell out. That suit you better?"
Gibbs had grown accustomed to people cowering when he showed anger. He’d forgotten not everyone was so easily intimidated or had been in the service with the ingrained need to follow the military standard for dealing with authority. Gibbs had also forgotten that the further one got from DC the less weight being a federal agent carried. Rather than earning any respect, a federal badge could more often garner resentment.
“It’s been a long day,” Gibbs said quietly, making an excuse for his behavior without actually apologizing.
“And it’s getting longer by the minute.” The guard pointed to the chairs again.
The guard’s no-nonsense approach reminded Gibbs of his drill instructor. It just added to the temptation to kick his ass. He could hear the voice in his head that sounded like Ducky pointing out the guard was on his home turf, if he needed back up it wouldn’t take much for him to get it. And it wouldn’t help Gibbs’ case any, even if he won. He couldn’t see Tony appreciating Gibbs starting a riot where he worked. So Gibbs took a seat.
Gibbs sighed, wishing he’d stopped for another cup of coffee. He’d finished the cup he got at the airport before he’d gotten to Reisner. There wasn’t any in the lobby that he could see or smell. Damn.
His attention was drawn away from the guard and the many ways he could hurt the man when the elevator doors opened. A lanky blond who looked like he’d stepped out of a Marlborough ad exited. Seeing his face, Gibbs finally placed the name ‘Lundy’ the guard had mentioned on the phone. The FBI on Joe LaFiamma had provided a picture and name of his partner, Levon Lundy.
“Hey Nelson.” Lundy called to the guard, giving him a casual two-finger salute.
“Lundy.” Nelson smiled, returning the salute.
Lundy glanced to where Gibbs was sitting, amber colored eyes assessing him with a thoroughness that had the former Marine unconsciously sitting up straighter. “He give you any trouble?”
“Other than a skunk eye or two, he was been well behaved.”
“Glad to hear it.”
As Lundy approached, Gibbs stood. Introducing himself was unnecessary and he wasn’t sure if he should offer his hand to shake. So he settled for a curt nod.
“Come with me, please.” Although the statement was polite, there was no mistaking it wasn’t a request.
Gibbs almost baulked at being ordered around. But he’d played this sort of game before•usually from the other side. It was better to give in now when it didn’t cost him a thing, than fight when it might cost him more than he was prepared to pay.
Gibbs followed Lundy into the elevator. He half expected the other man to hit the emergency stop switch but he just pushed the button for the third floor. The trip was made in silence. He couldn’t tell if it was because Lundy wasn’t much of a talker, or if the lack of conversation was intended to be intimidating. If it was the latter, Lundy was in for a rude awakening; silence never bothered Gibbs.
When the elevator doors opened, Lundy led Gibbs down a short hall and into a room he immediately recognized as being an interrogation room. The stark metal table, with matching chairs, and a mirror on the wall made it hard to mistake the room for anything else. Gibbs deliberately took a chair that put his back to the mirror---his usual spot during an interrogation. Lundy smirked, but didn’t argue. He sat across from Gibbs.
“This is cozy,” Gibbs said dryly.
“Yep.” Lundy gave him a feral grin. “Private too.”
Gibbs kept his expression neutral. He was fully aware that there were only two people who knew he was in the building. And right now, only one knew where he was. If Lundy was looking to even the score on Tony’s behalf, he had certainly picked the right place for it. Gibbs took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, centering himself for whatever might happen. He didn’t honestly expect Lundy to throw a punch, especially not with them both seated, but it always paid to be prepared.
“You don’t want me to see Tony, do you?” Gibbs made sure to make the question seem conversational rather than accusatory.
“Depends.”
Gibbs arched an eyebrow. He’d expected a more definitive answer. “On?”
“Why it is you want to see him.”
“That’s between him and me.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Lundy leaned forward, “you don’t talk to me, you aren’t talkin’ to him.”
“I doubt Tony would appreciate you getting involved in his personal business.”
“If this was personal, you’d be right.” Lundy’s lips curled upward in a small smile. “But it isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night.” Levon gave him a disgusted look. “You being here at all proves this isn’t personal.”
“How do you figure that?” Gibbs asked, genuinely curious. Just what had Tony told Lundy about him? Was it already too late to make amends?”
“You aren’t the sort to go out of yer way just to drop in on a former teammate.” Lundy stated with absolute conviction. “It’s out of sight out of mind with you when it comes to people. The only people who matter to you are connected to your job. And they only matter as long as they are working up to your expectations.”
Gibbs blinked. “Tony said that?”
“Nope.” Lundy gave him an enigmatic smile. Gibbs kept himself from frowning, not wanting to react to what Lundy had said. He didn’t know anything about Lundy except his name and the fact that he was Joe LaFiamma’s partner. He was not in a good position for this war of words.
“So what business brought you to Houston? And what does it have to do with Tony?”
“I didn’t say it was business.”
Lundy rolled his eyes. “To get here this time o’ day…looking like you haven’t been to bed…you either took the red eye or caught the first flight out o’ D.C. Won’t be hard to back track which airline and when the tickets were bought. Guessing that would prove the flight was booked in a hurry ‘cause damn few people take those flights unless it’s an emergency or they ended up getting bumped. Given that you live in D.C., and the flight originated there, I doubt you got bumped. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you who paid through the nose for those last minute tickets.”
Lundy cocked his head to one side. “For you to leave in a hurry, on the government’s dime, and suddenly be all fired up to talk to Tony after three fucking months, it isn’t personal. It’s business.”
Gibbs wanted to retort that it had taken that long to find Tony, and it was personal damn it, but he remained silent. He didn’t have any real counters to Lundy’s logic, and Gibbs knew he’d learn more if he just let Lundy continue to speak.
“We haven’t had a time sensitive case involving any military personnel since before Tony moved here. So for it to be business that involves Tony, it’s related to a case he worked at NCIS. And there was only one with left with loose ends. La Grenouille.”
Gibbs leaned forward. “Tony told you about an active case?”
“Tony told me some of it. The rest I found out on my own.” Lundy shrugged one shoulder.
“That was classified.”
“Oh it was classified all right.” Lundy snorted. “Fell in to the clusterfuck category. But it wasn’t any top secret, eyes only, matter of national security bullshit. Because the case never actually existed…at least not NCIS’ part in it. And plenty o’ people are unhappy ‘bout another agency playing in their pond for there to be someone willing ta talk to me.”
Gibbs managed not to show a reaction. Inwardly he seethed. Damn Shepard. Even being half the country away she could mess up what should have been a simple thing for him to do.
“Tell me why you want to talk to Tony.”
“No.”
“Suit yerself.” Lundy nodded, and got up from his chair. He headed for the door.
“That’s it?” Gibbs asked, genuinely surprised by the other man’s brusque acceptance
Lundy turned to look at him. “I’m all for doing things the easy way. But I got no issue with doing it the hard way. You don’t want to tell me…no problem. You can sit here and stew, without any coffee, while I find out on my own.”
“You really think it’ll be that easy?” Gibbs challenged, annoyed by the confidence in the other man’s voice. And pissed he’d mentioned coffee. It reminded Gibbs how long it had been since his last cup.
“Only way three people can keep a secret is if two are already dead.” Lundy smiled. “And I’m betting more than three people know why yer here. Just a matter of time until I find someone willing to give me a few more pieces to the puzzle.”
Counting Fornell and his people, Gibbs’ team, anyone from the CIA who knew Renee Benoit was dead, Jeanne Benoit---Lundy wasn’t wrong. But he would have to know who to talk to. Lundy had people he could ask. He’d already mentioned finding out things on his own Tony hadn’t told him. They’d probably tell him even more if he asked. The blond confirmed his suspicions.
“I got a few more friends in the FBI. Got a couple with NSA and Homeland Security too. Hell I even know a couple with JAG. And they all owe me a favor or two.”
Lundy’s smile widened. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve made yerself some enemies, Gibbs. They might not want to help me, but there’s bound to be a few who’d tell me what I want to know if they thought it might fuck you up. Couple o’ them already have.”
Lundy opened the door. “You stay here and wait quietly.” He pointed to the camera hanging from the ceiling. “You get any bright ideas, like picking the lock, and I’ll have a team down here ready to beat you unconscious before you make it to the end of the hall.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I suck at poker, Gibbs.” Lundy chuckled darkly. “Learned a long time ago, if you can tell the truth, no reason not to.”
Lundy sobered, brown eyes hard and unforgiving. “Only reason I haven’t already beaten the shit out of you is ‘cause Tony said he learned a lot from you…and on some level he still respects you. Can’t quite understand why, but I don’t have to either. It was that fucked up bitch Shepard who whored him out and then made him quit. Guess that's why•“
“Wait.” Gibbs held up hand. “What do you mean she made him quit?”
Lundy shook his head. “If you don’t already know, not sure that’s my story to tell.”
Seeing an opening, Gibbs offered, “You tell me what I want to know, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
Lundy smirked. “You tell me first…and if it’s something Tony needs to hear, you can tell him. He’ll tell you about Shepard if he thinks you need to know.”
“Why not just tell me•“
“I can find out why yer here, we both know that.” Brown eyes met blue. “I leave you sitting here…you are going to lose your only chance to tell yer story to Tony.”
Gibbs’ gaze narrowed. “My only chance?”
“Guaranteed.” Lundy gave him a slightly apologetic look. “Anyone I talk to will put their own slant on why yer here. And that will be the version I give Tony. After that, he won’t want to listen to yours.”
Gibbs glared at Lundy. The man was right. It wouldn’t be hard to put a spin on his presence in Houston…one that made it look like Gibbs was siding with Shepard or Fornell. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to think he was in Houston to arrest him. And he had to have a chance to explain why the hell he hadn’t shown up sooner. Not to mention finding out why it was Tony left.
“Done,” Gibbs declared making up his mind. There was too much at stake to get involved in a pissing contest. He should have realized that from the beginning. He wasn’t going to let Tony face an FBI investigation for a murder he hadn’t committed… not again. And if he failed to play ball with Lundy, his reason for coming to Houston at all would be moot.
“I want a cup of coffee first.”
“Figured as much.” Lundy nodded. He waved to someone in the hall. A Hispanic looking man, carrying two cups of coffee came into the room. He shot Gibbs a dirty look before setting the cups on the table.
“Thanks, Roberto,” Lundy said.
Roberto said something to Lundy too quiet for Gibbs to make out. Lundy nodded, shutting the door after Roberto left.
“You were that sure I’d cave?” Gibbs asked, taking a satisfying sip of coffee. It was dark, bitter, and exactly what he wanted.
“Nope.” Lundy sat down, taking the other cup. “I just believe in being prepared.”
Gibbs sighed. No time like the present, he told himself. Gibbs started talking, filling Lundy in on why he was in Houston, and what his team had done so far. There was a lot of ground to cover, and his gut was telling him they didn’t have much time.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs meets Lundy.