EARLY THE NEXT MORNING
LOCAL MIDDLE SCHOOL
Tony smiled down at the main office secretary. "Hi, I'm Tony. I'm with the NCIS, which stands for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service." He looked down at her tag. "Beth. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."
McGee rolled his eyes as Beth, blushing, smiled.
"We're just looking for these three kids," Tony continued, pushing a list across to her. "We know they come to this school. Of course, if they're in an academic class, we don't want to pull them out of that."
McGee snorted. Sure, this coming out of the mouth of the jock.
"Sure, let me look them up for you." Beth smiled sweetly as she looked up the names, and then called all three. "They're all in study halls right now, so we'll have them come up to talk to you."
SAME TIME
NCIS HQ
"Where is she?" the woman exclaimed. "Where's my daughter?"
"Who are you?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm Petty Officer Janice Walker," she replied. "Where's my daughter?"
"Right here," Kate replied, gently setting the carrier on her desk, picking it up from the floor. The child nearly bounced in excitement as her mother picked her up. Walker held her child in relief, and the tot happily patted her face and wiggled. Kate smiled at them, just the slightest bit wistfully.
"What is going on?"
SAME TIME
LOCAL MIDDLE SCHOOL
McGee took back his folder holding all the autopsy results, looking at the three students expectantly. "Do you still think those guys are alive?" He didn't much expect an answer; they were still sitting there in their desks, looking shocked. He straightened, satisfied that his point had been made. He doubted they would keep any information from Tony now.
Tony had to admit, McGee was playing 'bad cop' was funny, but he himself didn't want to alienate them so much so that he couldn't enlist their help if he needed it. He turned a desk around so he was sitting right across from them, and then held up a picture he'd snapped of Paulie at NCIS. "You know her?"
"Yeah, that's the Walkers' daughter," Sandy replied, recovering first. "Paulie."
"This photo was taken at NCIS," Tony said bluntly. "She's been living there for 40 hours. Her father died of a massive stroke-heart attack combination, and her mother was being held at Gitmo so she can help translate interrogations."
"Her closest relative and her guardian is her father's sister," McGee replied, driving home the seriousness of the circumstances. "Who lives in Hawaii."
"So she's been living with us until just an hour ago," Tony replied. "Because she was supposed to be with her father, and he was killed by the one man he thought he could trust." He sat back, leaving the photo sitting there before them and waited.
"Okay," Evan finally said as even-handedly as he could, his voice still shaking a little. "But what can we do. We trim bushes. Without power tools and under supervision."
"You take out the trash and you shred, don't you?"
"Only non-medical."
"Like medical files?" Tony saw them look at each other. "Here's what we want you to do," he continued. "I know it's against regs, but take a look at what you guys get to shred. Anything coming from Martin's office or the surrounding offices, keep intact."
"What if there isn't any?" Evan replied doubtfully.
"Then you're off the hook." Tony looked at their expressions. "I know it's a long shot. But right now that's all we got, okay?" He smiled, and then pulled out three business cards and wrote down a cell phone number on each. "This is my card. Don't lose it, and call me anytime."
They nodded mutely, and he got up to put the desk back when Ray cleared her throat hesitantly. "There's a new couple," she said quietly. "They only started maybe two weeks ago. Former Staff Sergeant Paul Morgan and his wife Nina."
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC
Martin looked up as his secretary handed him a packet. "This is everything I could find on Dr. Eric Westin. I actually talked to him, too. He said he couldn't talk to me about Mr. Morgan, but he would gladly speak to you."
"Friendly?" Martin asked, frowning.
"Yeah. He actually retired partly so he could go into research on Gulf War Syndrome," she replied. "I talked to his secretary - weird sense of humor, but she's pretty knowledgeable, too. He'd like to see what kind of research you're doing."
KIM HOME
"She...was sitting in the chair when she began to convulse, and slipped from the chair," Kim said slowly. "Dr. Martin's receptionist went and dialed 911 as we took her to an examining room."
"What did Dr. Martin do?" Kate asked.
"He jabbed what looked like an epi-pen shot into her leg." The Korean man rubbed his eyes. "I know, I didn't understand it either. But Seeyoon did have allergies."
"Did it look like this?" Kate asked, holding up a pen."
"Yes, but longer, and a different color."
"Did he mention anyone else having this kind of reaction?"
Kim shook his head.
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC
"Agent Balboa from the NCIS," Carrie's voice came over the line.
"Send him in," Martin replied, and stood when the door opened. "How are you, Agent Balboa?" He waved to the seats in front of him, and the NCIS agent sat. "What can I do for the NCIS today?"
"Nothing, really," Balboa replied. "I just wanted to let you know that the investigation is still open, but we haven't found anything definitive." He sighed. "It's hard enough without the official recognition of Gulf War Syndrome as an illness," the agent continued. "But that, I'm sure you know, given all the help you've provided these vets."
"Well, politicians have their timetable, which unfortunately doesn't coincide all the time with ours."
Balboa snorted. "You're telling me. Anyhow," he stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "I'll keep you apprised. I hope the investigation will be dropped, and you can get on without us on your backs."
"Agent Balboa, don't worry. This doesn't bother me."
"Well, it does me," he sighed. "I'd prefer it if we let people do the jobs they're doing and actually go after those who are threatening us. But" he shrugged. "When I get my own team."
Dr. Martin chuckled. "I'm sure you will. Thanks again for stopping by."
VA CLINIC
"Hey guys," Nina Morgan greeted as she came around to find them working in the recycling area.
"Afternoon, ma'am," they greeted as cheerfully as they could, but that morning's talk with the NCIS had dampened their spirits.
"Are you guys all right?" she asked concernedly.
"We're fine, ma'am."
Deciding that there wasn't any more coming from them, she produced a tin of cookies, and, looking at their hands, produced a small tissue packet. "Come eat. You can use the tissues so the food doesn't contact your hands." She waved at the gathering on the far lawn. "What's that?"
"That's the annual WWII veterans gathering," Evan replied with a smile, relieved at the subject change. "They have a picnic and '40s music."
Nina Morgan chuckled. "That's nice. They aren't many WWII vets left." She smiled. "That's Benny Goodman," she said softly, a distant look in her eyes. At the surprised look, she smiled. "They...have monthly get-togethers at the hospital where I used to work," she explained. "I'd go down to help. The WWII vets would come in from the VA nearby, fuss over some of the younger sailors and Marines in the hospital. Music, poker, stories. It was good for the patients, too, and for those WWII vets." She chuckled. "Some of them tried to matchmake."
Evan saw Ray furrow her forehead slightly, and then asked what they were both thinking: "Did you...meet your husband there?" The question seemed to hit the woman harder than they'd expected, and Evan quickly backpedaled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to - "
"No, no." Nina Morgan shook her head. "It's fine." She took a deep breath, as if thinking it over. She chuckled. "He...I had been his nurse for about a week. He was driving me insane, and I couldn't wait to be rid of him." The Marine wife chuckled when she saw Ray's mouth drop.
"The get-together was the Saturday after my week in hell with him. I was done with my part and was about to go when he came to apologize." She laughed when she saw them, completely absorbed in her story. "He apologized. Very nicely. He asked me to dance, but we didn't finish out the song. His leg was hurting him."
"You dance a lot?" Sandy asked.
"Used to," she replied. "When I was younger. Now," she shrugged. "My days are very full, and" she became quiet. "Gatherings of patients will often have someone very sick, and they take a lot of energy to get through," she said quietly. "Paul...went a few times with me, and he tries to sit through the whole time, but." She smiled a little sadly. "It's not worth it to try much."
The three fell quiet. "Do you regret it?" Sandy asked softly. ""Marrying him?"
"No," she said firmly. "No, never." She chuckled. "Marriage takes work, and it has its ups and downs. I woke up this morning, looked at him, and thought, 'I can't believe I'm tied to him for the rest of my life!'" At their shocked expressions, she laughed. "It happens. The first month of my marriage I kept falling in to the toliet seat because he left the seat up."
She smiled as the children grinned, and then her expression turned softer and serious. "He has things that bug me," she said quietly. "But I don't regret marrying him for a second, and I don't plan on divorcing him." The three smiled at her. "Kill him, maybe," she teased, her eyes twinkling, and they laughed.
The automatic doors shooshed open, and her husband came out. Nina Morgan winked at them. "How'd it go?"
"Good," he said absently, more intent on watching the gathering farther down. People were milling about to the music, some dancing, many eating. "What's that?"
"WWII vets gathering," Nina replied, getting up from her seat and brushing her pants off. "Ready to go?"
Another song came on, and Paul Morgan turned to his wife, cocking his head at her, a soft expression in his eyes. He held out a hand to her, and her look of confusion grew.
Evan smiled a little as he watched the vet fold his wife closer to him. His right hand rested lightly on the small of her back; his left hand, holding hers, he curled into his shoulder. She rested her head against his shoulder, and she came up to his chin. He touched his lips to her forehead ever so lightly as they moved slowly; there was little evidence of the bum leg except for a slight shuffle on the Marine's part.
The boy looked over at his two friends, and Sandy grinned at him as Ray continued to watch unabashedly, chin on hand, as the pair danced quietly, just there in that quiet corner of the parking lot.
6 MONTHS LATER; TWO WEEKS BEFORE PRESENT DAY
NCIS HQ
"Where are your reports on the murder case?" Gibbs asked, and Kate and Tony promptly got up, dropping their reports in front of them. "Good."
"Hey, uh, Balboa called," Kate said. "He wants to know if we're going to continue the Martin case."
Gibbs sighed. "It's still open."
"We're still tracking all his patients," Tony added.
"Have you heard from the kids there?" Gibbs asked.
"They don't say much, besides that they see some of the same Marines who are losing weight but looking sharper, and that the Morgans still bring them cookies," Tony recounted. "McGee went out to talk to the former Sergeant Major Gilstrap again."
Just then the phone rang. "Gibbs. ... What?" The expression turned angry. "We're coming. That was McGee," Gibbs bit off. "He just sent Gilstrap to the ER."
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC
"Agent Balboa, hi," Martin greeted with a big smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Doc," Balboa grinned. "I just want to thank you for the information about your father-in-law's company, Zetech. I looked it up. It's great. I'd like to buy some stocks in it." He handed him a check.
Martin beamed. "I'm glad. He could use the support." There was a knock, and then the door opened. "Oh, Eric! Dr. Westin, Agent Balboa, NCIS."
The two greeted each other, and the elderly doctor smiled warmly. "Well, Brian, I'll wait for you right outside; I'm sorry to have intruded upon your meeting. Pleased to meet you, Agent Balboa."
"Likewise."
Martin chuckled as the door shut behind him. "He's a good guy. Now, you had something else?"
"Your case is still open," Balboa murmured. "Doc, I'm sorry." Just then his cell phone rang. "Balboa. ... DiNozzo, I'm working on another case. ... What? I'll be back at HQ. ... But I thought - " The phone clicked off. "They're going to bring you in." Balboa swallowed. "Gilstrap just got sent to the ER. Tony's coming to bring you in."
"What do I do?"
"Shred as many files as you can. You don't have a choice!"
NCIS HQ
"You said you called ahead of time."
"I did! Agent DiNozzo's voice mail box is full."
The security guard looked down at the two kids, barely suppressing a smile. "I'll call up to Agent DiNozzo."
Evan thunked his bag down impatiently as they waited. The security guard finally hung up his phone. "C'mon. Joe down there" he pointed at the guard down the hall "will take you upstairs."
"Thank you, sir," Evan replied, then poked Ray, who was looking around. "C'mon." The other guard scanned himself into the elevator and let them on. The doors dinged open at the bullpen, and he was just leading them off the elevator when they nearly ran into a man heading in. There was an audible "uh-oh" from behind him.
"Oh, hi, sir, I - "
"Staff Sergeant Paul Morgan, retired," the man replied. The guard frowned but shook the extended hand. "Hey, guys."
"Hi...sir," Evan managed. Ray just swallowed, opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut her mouth again. "How come...you're here?"
"We were asked to come here to speak to Agent DiNozzo," Morgan replied. "What about you?" He looked around at the two bags, which the two teens quickly shoved behind them as much as they could - not that they could hide them easily.
"Hey, I - "
"Look who's here," Morgan suddenly spoke up, turning to the pretty woman coming up behind them.
"Evan and Ray." Nina Morgan looked surprised but smiled at the two students, who smiled shyly back at her. "What are you doing here?"
"Agent DiNozzo invited us for a tour," Evan replied hurriedly before Ray accidentally blurted the truth.
"What's the par - " Tony raised an eyebrow when he saw the two students standing there, bewildered. "Hey." Gibbs would kill him now...not only did the kids see the Morgans at NCIS, he hadn't been there to smooth over any possible misunderstandings. Who knew what either had heard. "Joe, you can go. Thanks for bringing the kids up. Actually, could you escort Mr. and Mrs. Morgan out?"
"We can show ourselves out," the man replied. He hit the elevator button and waved for his wife to enter first.
"How come the Morgans are here?" Evan blurted the minute the elevator doors closed.
"I had to talk to them," Tony replied gently. At the worried looks on their faces, he shook his head. "Procedure. Considering they might be the next victims, well." He pointed at the bags. "Now. What's this?"
"Oh," Evan grinned wide. "We got handed medical files from Dr. Martin today to be shredded." Seeing Tony's frown, he said, "Don't worry. Most of this is white paper. We knew you'd want the records, so we tried to find something else. We shredded about twenty pages before Ray got the idea to shred the reams of white paper all over the copy-shred room."
"Nice thinking," Tony replied with a nod of admiration. "That must be a lot of paper."
"Um, you now owe the VA two boxes of blank copy paper," Ray replied sheepishly. "And Sandy needs a note. He shredded the test he failed and had to have signed."
Tony snorted. "Convenient," he commented. "Okay, well, we'll get - "
"Actually," Evan cut in. "Can you get the two boxes of paper and take us back to the VA right now?" He took a breath. "We put the rest of the files into the empty copy boxes and hid them. We'd prefer to get the files and restock the paper before we get in trouble. Right now Sandy's still there, dreaming up excuses in case anybody asks."
Tony nodded. "McGee!" he called, and a set of keys came sailing through the air right into his hands.
NCIS HQ, LAB
"I heard Gibbs is pissed," Abby said with a grin, looking meaningfully at McGee.
The probie made a face. "Yeah, well. When Tony gave those kids his business card, he didn't figure on them actually calling him. He turned his ringer off when some crazy ex started calling him, and apparently she filled up his office phone inbox."
"Oooh, the one who wears Mary Kay?" Abby asked.
McGee stopped as he turned to her. "I don't know. How do you know?"
"Tony told me about her," Abby replied, shrugging.
"How come he always tells YOU this stuff?" McGee replied, frowning even more deeply.
Abby just grinned. "What happened to make Gibbs mad?"
"Two of the three kids showed up at headquarters with huge bags of shredded paper...and ran into the Morgans," McGee replied meaningfully.
"Oooh." Abby shook her head. "No wonder Gibbs was pissed."
"I think Tony was sure he was going to eat him alive right in front of the kids."
"Where is Tony?"
"It's kind of complicated. They boxed up the other medical files they were supposed to shred and hid them in the yardwork they usually do. Tony's taking them to pick it up."
"So...what do you need my help for?"
McGee led her out to the outer room of the lab and pointed to the two big bags. "There are twenty pages of medical records shredded in there, a graded test, and lots of blank paper. Gibbs...wants those twenty pages back."
"That's nearly impossible! It's why it's called a shredder."
McGee winced sympathetically. "Tony says you can get the kids to help you," he tried comforting her.
NCIS HQ, INTERROGATION
"How we doing, guys?" Tony asked, opening the door to the interrogation room and carefully wading into the sea of shredded paper. He set two pizzas on the table. "These are for you. Just don't get the papers greasy."
"Are we in trouble?" Ray suddenly asked.
"Why do you say that?"
She pointed to the interrogation room mirror.
Tony chuckled. "No, you're okay. But this is the only bare room in the headquarters. There's lots of classified stuff going on here, so I can't let you wander around the building. You might see something you're not supposed to." He then widened his eyes in scary-assassin style fashion and half-whispered in threat, "And if you do, I might have to kill you." He watched with amusement as she started back slightly. He grinned and straightened. "So, how're we doing?" he repeated.
"Well, that's all the pages without writing on it," Sandy replied, pointing at a white heap in one corner. "These are all the ones with writing on double sides, and this middle one with writing on one side. And we're still working on it."
"Agent McGee said you have a lab technican who can scan all the pieces and have a program try to fit the pages together," Evan said hopefully.
"Yeah, we do," Tony replied, nodding. "McGeek's helping her write it now. It's like computer nerd convention."
"I got it!" Sandy suddenly exclaimed. "It's been bothering me all day."
"What's been bothering you?" Tony asked, continuing to write notes into his PDA.
"I always thought you looked like someone," Sandy replied excitedly. "That guy on 'Dark Angel'!"
"Really." Tony grinned and set down his PDA. "'Angel'...I suppose it was a TV show about a woman?"
"Oh, yeah," Ray replied. "The 'angel''s a woman who fights crime."
"And the guy I look like?" Tony asked with a big grin. "Crime fighter, packin' heat, getting the girl?"
"Actually...he didn't carry a gun," Evan replied slowly. "He wore glasses and sat in front of a computer all day and talked about coordinates." When Tony's grin fell off his face, the boy shrugged apologetically.
"And the girl he loves, well, I think she gets some disease and he can't even hold her hand or something," Sandy continued. Tony's frown turned into a look of horror.
"He got to fight crime," Ray offered hopefully. "Even computer math geeks count as fighting crime." Tony turned to look at her, an indescribable look on his face. "What?"
Just then the door opened and McGee came in; Tony stood up to go out, the same look of some kind of horror on his face. "Something wrong?"
"You know when I said I'd rather be homeless than be you?" Tony said, frowning.
McGee made a face.
"I'm you." Tony stalked out the door.
McGee watched with a furrowed brow as the door shut behind his colleague, then turned to the three beaming students with a huge grin as he held out a twenty. "Thank you."
NCIS HQ, AUTOPSY
"The medical records will make a significant difference," Ducky noddded. "Is it legal? Patient records are confidential."
"He handed them to the kids," Gibbs replied. "Most likely so he wouldn't arouse suspicion, if they've always done the shredding."
"I had a friend from high school whose college job was to ply through all the alums' personal files," McGee replied. "Shredded, too. When you're in a crunch, I guess you'll do anything."
"All right, but how legal is it for us have this?" Ducky asked.
"He handed them to the children to shred. Those kids shredding would be...obstructing a federal investigation."
"That will work for me," Ducky nodded. "Now the last order of business. I need to know what is in that epinephrine-pen, the antidote used on Lt. Kim. I cannot tell from her autopsy which chemicals she was injesting from the medicine and which was from the pen. If it's the dangerous drug I suspect it is," Ducky sighed, "then we will have him."
"He's not going to hand those out, Duck," Kate replied. "Barring another patient nearly dying on his table and us catching it in time."
"Don't worry, Tony's got Martin's secretary," McGee replied. "She promised to call if something went wrong."
"How'd you guys get her on your side?" Kate asked curiously.
"She's been there several years," McGee murmured. "She's seen a lot. All it took was a hard look at the facts to make her suspect something was wrong." He shrugged as he looked at Ducky, Gibbs, and Kate. "Now all we do is wait for the victim."
PRESENT DAY
DR. BRIAN MARTIN'S OFFICE, VA CLINIC
Martin stopped mid-sentence, concerned, when he saw Morgan swallow again. Nina Morgan had stopped listening to him several minutes ago, watching her husband concernedly. "Paul?"
"I'm fine," he whispered. "I just...can I lay down a bit?"
At that, Martin watched his wife's face suddenly grow even more concerned. It was the first time he'd heard the man ask for anything pertaining to rest since he'd started six months ago.
Martin nodded quickly, standing up and opening the door. "I'll put you in one of the examining rooms with a larger table." He shifted nervously when he noticed the former Marine leaning heavily on his wife as they moved out of the room. "I'll let you rest a bit, and we can continue whenever you want. If you want to reschedule, that's fine. There'll be no charge for today."
"Thank you, doctor," Nina replied gratefully.
Martin nodded, smiling, and closed the door behind him. He came out just in time to see Dr. Westin behind him. "Eric," he greeted him.
"Ah, Brian. Patient?" the doctor greeted genially.
"Your Mr. Morgan, actually. He's feeling a little sick, so he's lying down."
Dr. Westin raised an eyebrow as he saw his former patient exit, his wife's arm wrapped securely around his waist. "Head call," she apologized.
"Doc, I'm fine. Nina, I can go to the head by myself."
"Let me stand outside the door."
"I can live with that."
X X X X X
He was only in the bathroom a few seconds when there was a loud crash. Nina threw open the door to find her husband on the floor, his hands sliding off the sink porcelain. There was blood mixed with saliva in the sink.
"Paul!" she hurried to his side.
"Get him on the table!" Martin shouted, motioning to his fellow doctor as they bodily dragged the veteran into one of the examining rooms. The elderly Westin proved much younger than he looked, more than holding up the sick man on one side, with the Marine's wife on the other. Martin threw open the door to let them inside.
The two doctors eased the veteran onto the table, where he continued to choke, gasping for air. His wife was close behind, maintaining an amazing calm and trying to situate her husband despite the obvious panic in her eyes.
Suddenly the man on the table began to convulse, his back arching, his body twisting horribly, his eyes unnaturally wide. Westin dashed forward, trying to help Nina Morgan hold her husband on the table.
The convulsing worsened and blood began seeping from his mouth. Westin looked up at Martin, panicked but hopeful and expectant that he could do something. Nina was holding her husband's head steady, trying to keep him from smashing his head against the table, begging him to look at her. She turned a pleading look to Martin, her eyes brimming with desperate tears.
Martin blinked helplessly, as if he were reacting in slow motion to a train wreck.
X X X X X
Outside, Carrie Barrett flinched at the sudden keening noise from the back room. She had waited too long - how could she have agreed to wait? Good God in heaven forgive her; she couldn't believe she....
Nina Morgan was crying in the back room. Carrie could hear it even over the doctors' shouted directions. She knew what would happen - Doc Martin had told her before. He had a sudden shot of medicine that was supposed to help counter...come to think of it, he had never said what it was supposed to counter.
911 was her first call, and the throaty voice that answered seemed to her to be too calm.
She hung up and managed to find the business card she was looking for; her shaking hands nearly dropped it. She quickly put it down on her desk and frantically dialed Agent DiNozzo's number. It didn't matter what happened to her close friend now - a woman was losing her husband in the back room. She grabbed the phone.
"DiNozzo."
"It's Carrie Barrett."
X X X X X
Morgan was convulsing on the table, his eyes unnaturally dilated, blood seeping through the corner of his mouth. His wife was leaning over him, holding his head to try to keep him from hurting himself. To Martin's trained eye, Nina looked like she was doing everything correctly as she desperately tried to help her husband. His eyes suddenly rolled, and the woman's gasp had Martin and Westin wincing. Her low, repeated "No, no" were bordering on tears even as it seemed he was going to go into some kind of cardiac arrest.
Westin entered with the electropads for the shocking, and Martin panicked. He ran to his office and broke open the tiny safe hidden behind a few books and grabbed for the antidote shot. He yanked the cap off and was about to stick it in Morgan's thigh when his wife quickly reached across. "Let me do it. He hurt his leg again the other day."
Martin didn't argue, just handed her the pen. In his panic, he didn't notice Morgan stop convulsing. He certainly noticed it when he sat up.
"Kate?" The silver-haired Morgan said quietly, staring at Martin with clear, hard blue eyes. Kate? Martin puzzled to himself. "Got the pen?"
Nina Morgan handed up the bagged pen to the Marine with a pair of latex gloved hands. "Right here. My prints are on it. The cap's on the floor; hold on." She pulled out a small pack of tissues from her purse and tossed them to the older man, who wiped the blood from his mouth...and then spit out a little ball which appeared to be oozing 'blood'.
Morgan didn't look sick at all.
He slid off the table, taking the time to toss the dirty tissues into the garbage can and then snapping on latex gloves. "Got the cap, Gibbs," came a voice from the floor. Martin watched in confusion as Paul Morgan pulled his wife to her feet.
He then took the bagged pen and waved it before Martin's eyes. "What are we going to find in here? What is it you put in here and shot up Lt. Kim with?" There was a dangerous smirk on his face. "So, Duck. How did...the good doctor do?" he asked, never taking his gaze off the man in front of him.
"Not well, I'm afraid," came a distinct British accent.
Martin's head snapped around to stare at Westin. The tone was right, the pitch was right, but that distinct British accent was certainly NOT there before. "Eric?"
"Dr. Donald Mallard," Nina Morgan replied, stepping up to him, a mirthless smile playing on her lips. "Medical examiner."
Martin shifted nervously, taking a step backward. He was almost afraid to ask. "Who are you?"
'Paul' and 'Nina Morgan' smirked. "Agent Gibbs and Agent Todd," the man replied, his grin widening. "NCIS."
Chapter End Notes:
Casefile. Posted to ff.net 7-31-05 to 8-5-05.