Countdown to Looking Glass (NCIS/DC Universe crossover)

Seems that Kate still lives.

Also I do not know if I like the new director.

Kate lives, and she's a much better agent now than in her first two years. She'll play a big role in future chapters.

Riley is a wiley old bastard, and this is from a show that has seen more than its share of bastards...

Chapter 9
Monday, May 21, 2007

--in wake of Zhukov's death, security in Geneva is being tightened ahead of this week's summit--

--President Boehner will speak on the general secretary's death within the hour--

--last year's incident with the Siberian oil fields was the greatest ecological disaster in the Soviet Union since its test of a 100-megaton nuclear bomb in 2000--

Washington
Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters
The bullpen

The team members returned to their desks, each wary of the suits whom, by Kate's observation, getting on the nerves of everyone else who worked on the floor.

She took a few moments to profile the men and women in black around her. Except for the incident at the elevator, they seemed content to hang back and let people work. When the other employees went to the head or left the floor to go to lunch, the suits let them alone -- although Kate figured they were being watched anyway.

The only suit who unnerved Kate was the woman watching her from past the staircase, barely trying to conceal herself. Kate wondered why that woman was acting the way she was, and grateful for her teammates, and friends, being there with her.

Kate briefly checked on the others in the bullpen.

Ziva seemed to be the only one not at least a little unnerved by the suits' presence. She too had noticed the woman in the back and, with a nod, let Kate know she had her back. That relaxed Kate, who had gone from being wary of to considering the Mossad officer as a close friend.

It didn't hurt that Ziva could take out half of them by herself.

McGee was a little more relaxed after returning from the lab. He wasn't letting himself being affected by the situation; he focused on doing his job. Although he would always be Tony's 'probie', McGee had become a competent and dependable agent in just a few years. The suits wouldn't easily faze him.

She was most concerned about Tony. The suits -- along with, of course, Jenny's death -- had knocked him off his game. The Senior Field Agent's terse responses to everyone, along with the absence of his usual innuendos and jokes, were conspicuous. Part of that undoubtedly was due to Jenny's death. However, Kate could tell the suits' presence had a troubling effect on him as well.

One positive in all of this was that no one had lost sight of focusing on the case, nor of looking out for one another. Kate and Ziva looked out for Tony and McGee, and they the same for them. And when Gibbs got back, he'd make sure they stayed focused on the case AND look out for them.

Navy Yard

Having ordered Gibbs and his team NOT to disclose Jenny's death to anyone, McCallister briefly went to his new office. After speaking with Gibbs, he retreated to the safety of his armored SUV.

He knew full well they couldn't keep something as significant as his predecessor's death a secret forever. Already, his people at the Navy Yard had told him scuttlebutt was running wild. Only the suits (who were part of McCallister's 'people'), and the fear of God they had put on the rank-and-file, kept the gossip in check. An announcement would have to be made at the end of the day.

McCallister wasn't yet ready to formally announce himself as the new director. He had to contact the regional directors in Okinawa and Panama City and the head of Cyber Crimes; he already had spent too much time explaining the situation to the regional heads in Subic Bay and Naples.

"We're wasting too much goddamned time," McCallister muttered to himself. His phone rang just as he was about to call Okinawa; he kept the string of profanities in his head as he answered. "McCallister."

The agent on the other line informed him the tail on Gibbs and Fornell had gotten 'out of hand'.

This time, McCallister let the curse words fly loudly and often.

Virginia

Fornell and Gibbs talked the Diane part of 'devil's head' inside, then called her. Diane, working as an agent for the IRS, said the ex-wives wanted to know from Gibbs if they could stay with him, should things get FUBAR. Gibbs tried to tell Diane he was staying put in D.C., but she was convinced he had an escape bunker up in Pennsylvania.

Gibbs finally hung up on her.

"You know she's headed straight to your house," Fornell deadpanned. "She'll probably bring the others with her, wait for you downstairs. I hope that boat of yours isn't finished; tell them 'no' again, they might tear it apart in front of you and toss the lumber all over your yard."

"That's one way to get the boat out of the basement, Tobias," Gibbs quipped. "Better head back. This time, I'll drive."

Once they left the academy, they resumed their discussion of McCallister. "I'll look into those guys, try to find out what in hell they intended to do," Fornell said.

"Appreciate it. Got a lot on my plate right now," Gibbs replied.

"How far along have you gotten?" Fornell asked.

"Not far enough."

"Jethro, what if you or your people find out McCallister was involved in Jenny's death?"

"Then we'll bring him in, Tobias."

"You got enough to take him on?"

Gibbs, a man of few words, had none to give his friend.

San Diego, California

Naval Base San Diego

The SUV pulled up to the entrance of the building that the San Diego field office was located in; when it stopped, two agents and Mike Franks got out.

The first thing Franks did was pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's against regulations to smoke inside," said one of the young agents, Ashley.

"Then I'll smoke out here," he told her.

As a couple of guards took his bags inside, Franks puffed away, accompanied by Agent Ashley. He watched a drone fly overhead while armed Marines made their way down the street.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, sir," Ashley said.

"You can call me Mike, and yeah, I do have one," he said. "Why was I so damn important that the federales stopped along the highway and put us on a copter that didn't stop 'till it hit San Diego?"

"The DoD mandated that all retired federal agents in Mexico be recalled back to the United States for their own protection," she said. "You would've been a target for the cartels, or Soviet-aligned agents."

"Like I wasn't already. I was doing just fine on my own. You brought me all the way up here but nobody's told me where I'm gonna live."

"Special Agent in Charge Carter will go over that with you," Ashley said, as Pete -- the other agent who met Franks in Mexico and accompanied him here -- burst through the front entrance.

Their team had just caught a case and they both had to get to the scene ASAP. As both left, Franks watched them go, and saw a sedan tear out of the parking lot a couple of minutes later.

Franks finished his cigarette, then went inside looking for the head. Finishing his business there, he looked around until he spotted his luggage by a desk, and the baby-faced probationary agent sitting there.

Chapter 11

Monday, May 21, 2007

--Border Patrol agents arrested the leader of the Mexican Reynosa Cartel this morning. Paloma Reynosa was captured after a shootout in Yuma, Arizona involving gang members associated with the Reynosa cartel. She is being charged not only with setting up and supplying a cocaine pipeline into the United States, but collusion with Nicaraguan--

--lines lasting for hours at U.S. Customs facilities along the entire Mexican border, from California to Texas. Every vehicle is subject to an extensive physical and electronic search, every person subject to the same--

--U.S. Air Force personnel are now a common sight at San Diego International Airport. The Air Force put some of its C-12 and C-130 transport and F-15 fighter jets at the airport last month. The F-15s fly regularly over downtown and up and down the coast--

--flags at World Bloc embassies and consulates throughout the world are flying at half-mast after the announcement of Zhukov's death--

San Diego
NCIS field office

Franks sat in a folding chair across from the earnest, bright-eyed, very young man whose badge identified him as NCIS probationary agent Mitchell Conley.

"Shouldn't you be chasing cheerleaders at the prom?" Franks asked. "You don't look anything close to 23."

"I have a criminal justice degree from UCLA and was fortunate enough to do extremely well at FLET-C," said the mild-mannered and eager high school-aged teenager. "I was hired three months ago and assigned to San Diego. It's a very challenging and interesting job."

Franks kept his opinion on that to himself; he'd ask Conley's boss why NCIS was hiring kids.

"So why aren't you out with your team, son?" he asked. "They're out on a case."

"Agent Carter knew you would be here, and she doesn't want the office empty during daytime," Conley said. "In case someone comes by with a tip. She doesn't give out our phone numbers."

The two talked shop, Franks about his career at the agency when it was known as the Naval Investigative Service, and Conley about his teammates. They were a young group, assigned to one of the Navy's most important bases; Hayley Carter was the oldest at 31, the other three agents in their twenties.

"San Diego's damn important to the Navy, son," Franks said, deciding to speak his reservations. "Russians, Islamists, cartels, and other bastards looking to attack. And the bastards supposedly on our side. Nothing against you kids, but San Diego needs a veteran team."

Nothing the probationary agent said -- including his mentions of his team's high closure rate -- reassured Franks.

Neither did Agent Carter, who returned to the office earlier than expected. The athletic, confident woman said very little about her team's case, and declined Franks's offer to help them.

Instead, she wanted to talk about where he would stay. After a nearly 40-minute-long conversation, Franks judged that she wanted to get rid of him. After learning their case wasn't serious enough for him to pull rank, he decided to listen to his gut: it was time to get out of there.

"Now there are safe houses set up at a number of places here in southern California," Carter said. She opened the top folder of a stack of four on her desk, switching into the persona of a realtor, which unnerved Franks a little. "These are nice places, too. You won't live like an NBA player, but you'll be comfortable. I'm sure someone with as many years of experience as you have can appreciate that."

Franks leaned back and raised his eyebrows, wishing he had a cigarette and a shot of bourbon right then. "How old do you think I am, kid? I retired to a beach and a cantina, not to some old folks home."

Carter knew she had committed some kind of faux pas right then. Instead of apologizing, she opened another folder. "We have a place right in Santa Ana, in a good neighborhood. You'd be on the same street as a retired FBI agent who's a pastor at a--"

"No." Franks shook his head emphatically.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I'm not gonna go live there."

She spread out the folders on her desk. "Then look through these folders and take as long as you like. I'm sure you'll find something you like--"

"I already know where I want to go," he replied, "besides back to Baja."

"Really?"

"How soon can you get me on a C-130?"

Washington
Navy Yard, NCIS headquarters
Director McCallister's office

Gibbs politely declined McCallister's offer of a drink from the wet bar, then watched as the new director picked up, then put away, a bottle of gin.

"I ought to have this thing ripped out and a java bar put in," McCallister said, eyeing Gibbs's cup of coffee. "That caffeine goes a long way sometimes in keeping yourself alert and awake. And, as you yourself may be aware, sleep's overrated."

"So I've heard, Director," Gibbs replied. He looked around the room again; other than the alcohol on the bar, every trace of Jenny Shepard had been wiped clean. Even her secretary, Cynthia Sumner, was gone, replaced by a young man who Gibbs couldn't quite get a read on.

And, there were the armed guards at the doors to the reception area and to McCallister's office. There was no sign of the two agents who normally stood outside reception.

McCallister gestured for Gibbs to sit at the conference table.

"I'm not happy with how the word got out Gibbs," McCallister said. "I'm not blaming you. The leak came from one of the special agents downstairs."

"That what you call them? 'Special agents'?"

"The people in the suits? Yeah, and they're all NCIS. Some are from special ops, some from other field offices around the world."

"They're making my people nervous, Director," Gibbs replied.

"Understand, Gibbs, they're there for security," McCallister said. "When my top field team is investigating the death of the Director of NCIS, I want them protected as best as possible. I trust people, Gibbs, not drones and electronics."

And my ex-wives only wanted the furniture, thought Gibbs. "One of them made a move toward one of my people just now. That I won't stand for."

McCallister pondered for a few moments. "Is that agent tall, lean, short blond hair, and female?"

"Yeah."

"Clair," the new director said in exasperation. "She was my SSA when I headed up San Diego, joined me when Morrow set up special ops and became Special Agent in Charge when Shepard promoted me. Damn good agent. Daughter of a cop, had a great mind for this line of work..."

"Had???"

"We caught a case. Remember the Bremerton attacks? We were in the middle of that insanity. One of the terrorists got into a pickup and drove it towards a family; she pushed them out the way, tried to twist away at the last second but got caught, and fell and slammed her head to the pavement. She was in the hospital for weeks but she was never the same."

"She must've gotten better. She's down there."

"Yeah. She's gained back most of her skills, but that brain injury did something to her. She's cleared to work, though I wouldn't put her in the field."

Gibbs took a sip of coffee. "But you put her downstairs, Director. Why?"

McCallister looked hard at Gibbs. "Because I owe her my life, Gibbs. She's saved my ass a couple of times. Her father's dead, she doesn't really have any family other than the team we were on. There aren't a lot of us left."

The director paused, and his countenance softened a little.

"In fact, that brings me to my next point. I wanted to update you on some people you've worked with. Agent G Callen. You two worked together undercover in the Soviet Union, with Shepard."

Gibbs bristled just a tad at hearing reference Jenny and not as director.

"He worked for me in special ops. We worked around the globe mainly undercover. We had a case in Iraq involving Spetsnaz imbedded with a particularly nasty group of insurgents. Our base was bombed; I lost good people there, Gibbs. Granger. Lange. Hanna. Callen survived only because he wasn't there, but they hunted him down and killed him. I'm sorry, Gibbs. I couldn't tell you until now because being read in required approval from Director Shepard."

Callen. Betts, Blackadder, Pacci, Balboa, Jackson, Yates, Lee, Blye, and now Callen. Damn it, it never ends. "That it, Director?" Gibbs asked.

"I have better news regarding a couple of people you've worked with," McCallister continued. "Agent Stan Burley is temporarily serving as Agent Afloat on the USS Gretsch in the Persian Gulf until our man there recovers from some type of flu-like sickness he picked up a few weeks ago. Agent Paula Cassidy heads the NCIS field office in Panama City."

"Heard from Stan a couple of months ago, and DiNozzo talked to Cassidy last month. You have any word on Mike Franks?"

"Mike Franks...your old boss? Probably either back in the States or on his way, due to that DoD directive. He would be sent to--"

"San Diego."

"Yeah, San Diego. I'm sure Agent Carter can tell you where he is. Now, while I'm enjoying our talk, I'm busy as hell and I know you are, too. Just one more thing."

McCallister walked over to a file cabinet behind his desk, pulled out a drawer and took it back to the conference table, dumping it in front of Gibbs. "I'm missing a folder, Gibbs. Rene Benoit. La Grenouille."

This surprised Gibbs. "Don't know anything about that."

"Maybe not, but DiNozzo and Todd do, and I know they were up here snooping around," McCallister said. "I have every right to bust their asses over this, but I won't. Because I trust you, Gibbs. With that folder, and with this case."

McCallister got up, walked over to his office door and opened it. "Whatever you need to find Shepard's killer, you'll have it. But I do want that folder back...first thing tomorrow. Take it home, read it. But bring it back."

Gibbs got the message, taking his coffee with him to the door. He stopped and turned around. "Your woman, Clair. She stays the hell away from all of my people." Then Gibbs headed back towards the bullpen, and McCallister was both respectful and leery of the man.

The bullpen

Gibbs looked around for Clair; not seeing her anywhere, he walked over to McGee and leaned over his shoulder.

"Take this," Gibbs said in his ear while handing him Fornell's flash drive. "Do not look at it here or in the lab. When you get home, go through it with a fine-tooth comb, find whatever's on the damn thing and bring it to me at the house."

"What's on this drive--"

"And whatever you do, do not get caught," Gibbs said before pulling away. "Ziva, get with Abby and start on that car. DiNozzo, Kate -- with me."

After confirming that Kate had the folder (and telling Kate to give it to him and asking what else they found), Gibbs made his rounds, met with Ducky in the morgue, and lingered over the body of his former comrade, lover and boss. He then met with Abby in the garage and in the lab.

When Gibbs got back, he found Clair back on the floor, not moving an inch for the rest of the afternoon, and Kate's dog standing watch in front of her desk. That made him smile, and gave him the lightest moment of what had so far been a very dreary day.

Chapter 13

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Washington, D.C.

12:40 a.m.

Hollis got out of Gibbs's neighborhood fast and headed for Interstate 395.

From the time she pulled off Gibbs's street, Hollis constantly switched between keeping her eyes on the road and looking in her rear and side mirrors, at adjacent buildings and up at the sky. Gibbs did the same and both looked for hostiles, drones and other potential threats.

"You gonna tell me what this is about?" Gibbs said as she pulled onto New York Avenue.

"Wait," Hollis replied, speeding up after noting the clear road ahead of her. She pulled onto I-395 South. Once in the tunnel, she began to talk.

"McCallister's done some very shady things, Gibbs, all the way back to when he got into the spy game," she said. "There was an incident in California when he was SAC of their West Coast division, a case I wasn't allowed to discuss with you before you say anything... Army CID worked with him on a case involving some squids and grunts. All from the same small town in east Texas, all signed up during President Broome's recruitment drive.

"They all got leave and went out drinking in Huntington Beach, went back to the hotel with some women who were undercover Stasi and Cuban DI. The next day was the attack on Camp Pendleton."

"Hundreds dead," Gibbs said, checking his phone for text messages.

"As the joint investigation proceeded," she continued, "McCallister became convinced two of the men had sold out their country and the others were covering for him, and they all had been paid off by the Stasi agent. We had come to another conclusion: they were set up to take the fall."

"I remember hearing something about an investigation, that San Diego ran it, and both sailors and the three infantry were killed in an accident," Gibbs said. "Happened the same time Ari tried to kill us in Norfolk."

Hollis looked in her side mirror, then took a sharp turn past a bank. "They were to meet the Stasi agent in Escondido. Their SUV blew up, killing them all; the Stasi was shot while running. Our man was the last to talk to her alive. Her last words were 'sie eingerichtet wurden'."

"'They were set up'," Gibbs said. "You suspect they were, by McCallister."

"The remains of the SUV -- and of the men -- were supposed to be taken to a Navy facility. They were collected by NCIS, and lost enroute."

"Lost?"

"Afterwards, the NCO heading our end of the investigation began looking into McCallister, but he died in a car accident a few days later, and the case was reassigned. The remains were never found -- take that for what you will. Some CID personnel refused to let the case go, and continued looking into McCallister."

"I suppose you found something."

"Nothing concrete to take up the chain of command, but lots of allegations," Hollis replied. "Kidnappings. Torture. Blackmail. More mysterious 'accidents'. Rumors he would set up suspects to be killed by the likes of KGB and Al-Qaeda. Using fronts for drug running to entrap suspects, then killing them and taking the money for himself."

"You got proof for this, Hollis?"

"Whatever we could find -- again, on our own time -- was enough to make one suspicious but not enough to charge. There were more disturbing rumors, one involving NCIS. McCallister allegedly intentionally killed a young agent in Amsterdam during an op in the early '90s, as part of a cover-up."

"Hollis..."

Even though he was convinced McCallister was a bastard, Gibbs knew better than to rely solely on scuttlebutt to build a case. An agent in McCallister's position doing things by the book would've made plenty of enemies, some who would've tried to frame him.

But there were a lot of unknowns about this special ops division that he knew virtually nothing about. He couldn't keep tabs on the whole agency, but he didn't expect he would've been unaware of something like special ops.

He never pried into Director Morrow's business, but he did so somewhat with Jenny. He knew her well enough to know she liked her secrets -- although what he had just found out about her was an eye-opener for the ex-Marine.

In any case, neither director ever read Gibbs in on special ops' existence and purpose.

Gibbs told himself he should've known more, at least what that division was and its main players. If he had, maybe he could've somehow prevented Jenny and her driver from dying.

--SLAP!--

Hearing the loud slap, Hollis swiftly turned her head towards Gibbs, whose hand was hovering over the back of his head as he muttered profanities to himself. "Jethro?!?"

"Damn it, Hollis. How in the hell did I miss all of this--"

"Listen to me," she said. "They kept that thing a secret. You had no reason to be aware of them and your directors weren't going to read you in."

She looked into her rearview mirror for the fifth time in the past minute before turning off Columbia Pike, heading for Army-Navy Drive. "You know about him and that division NOW. You're in position to find out how deep he's involved in her death and bring him in if necessary."

Gibbs flashed back to Fornell, what the FBI agent told him, and the flash drive.

"McGee," he muttered. How much danger was he in, being in possession of that thing? How much danger was the entire team in? Gibbs dialed McGee's cell.

"McGee. Sitrep."

"I'm hitting a brick wall, Boss," McGee said as he looked out his apartment window. "The algorithm generating the key that encrypts the data is the most complex I've ever seen--"

"English, McGee."

"Um, okay. Encrypted information has a key that unlocks it and makes it accessible. If you don't have the key, it's possible to pick the lock, so to speak, and get in. Thing is, every time I think I've picked the lock, I get thrown back to the front gate and I have to start from scratch."

"Keep at it, McGee. I need to know what's on that thing."

"There's something else, Boss," McGee said. "Suits. They're in a sedan, a Sable or Taurus, on the street outside my apartment. I noticed them an hour ago."

"Why didn't you call me, McGee?"

"Thought the flash drive took precedence, and I didn't see anyone snooping around my front door. Boss, what if they knock?"

"Stay there, stop doing what you've been doing. I'll call DiNozzo and tell him to go to you."

"Tony??? Boss--"

"Rule 40, McGee." After hanging up, he called Tony, who had his own set of suits watching his apartment. Gibbs told him to go to McGee's apartment, then called Kate -- who told him she had been followed to Abby's apartment -- and Ziva, who was at Ducky's house with Ducky, Palmer, Ducky's mother Victoria and her legion of Corgis.

Then Gibbs cursed himself, because he didn't want Hollis to know about the flash drive, nor did he want to lie to her. Before he could say something, she pulled off Army-Navy Drive into a fenced-off complex marked US ARMY PERSONNEL ONLY. She punched in a code and flashed a badge at the gate, then drove to and stopped behind a row of trailers.

"I heard enough of your conversation that I assume he's got the rest of your team under surveillance," Hollis said as she shut off the engine. "Are they alright?"

"For now," Gibbs said. "I'll need to touch base with my people."

Hollis pulled out her cell phone and placed a call to a colleague. "Army CID's investigating suspicious Communist activity in the very areas your people happen to live. What a coincidence," she deadpanned.

"Rule 39."

"I'm sorry?"

"'There's no such thing as a coincidence'," he said. "No coincidence we're here, either."

"You're right, Jethro," she said. "There is something else, and I'm asking you to trust me on what I'm about to tell -- and show -- you. And to keep it confidential."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"Khalinin's coup set off a multitude of chain reactions, including within the Army," she said. "This afternoon Army CID worldwide were told to begin preparations."

"Preparations for what?"

"Transition to war."

Neither had anything to add to that.

"Why are we here, Lieutenant Colonel?"

She checked out their surroundings for the third time, then turned to face him.

"Agent Gibbs. Do you remember the case at the golf course. Not the Marine Colonel."

"Sergeant Grayle. Army."

"We cleared him of the murder of a petty officer found near a sandtrap."

"Made a point of saying he was an average guy in the wrong place at the wrong time," Gibbs said. "Drove DiNozzo nuts. Hope you've got me in the right place at the right time."

"I do, and I'm going to show you for yourself," she replied. "This is big, the most important thing you've ever seen, something...when I saw it for myself and was told what it represented, I, I...come on. We're going for a walk."

Hollis opened her car door and stepped outside, with Gibbs following her lead. She led him to a garbage container that actually was the entrance to a tunnel.

They hurried down the dimly-lit tunnel for a city block, until they came to an elevator. "Get in," Hollis told Gibbs. It went down and opened into a large, musty room just slightly better lit than the tunnel. From there, they walked past a series of boxes and crates to an elevator on the other side of the room. The elevator took them up, into a small, equally dimly-lit supply room.

"Wherever the hell it is you're taking me better have lights," Gibbs grumbled. "Where are we now?"

She waited until they stopped walking to reply. As she took out a pocket flashlight, Gibbs focused on his surroundings. It took him just a few moments to realize--

"We're in the lobby of the old Drug Enforcement Administration museum," Hollis said, aiming the light at the DEA logo on a dusty marble wall. "It closed down in '03 when the government began buying up property around the Pentagon."

"Lots of property; government wanted to protect the Pentagon, figured civilians being so close played into the Soviets' hands," Gibbs added. "Something tells me there's more."

"You're right. Come on. A little longer and you'll see what I brought you here for."

"DEA know that you broke into their property, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Let's just say the Army and the DEA have an friendly arrangement; that's why the tunnel starts on our property. It's not the only tunnel around here, either."

"There are others, Hollis?"

Hollis put her finger to his lips, then started jogging down a hallway, to yet another elevator. Gibbs jogged after her and started to say something, but she put her finger on his lips yet again; he got the message to shut up, and the elevator went down what Gibbs thought was six floors.

This time, the doors opened to a sleeker, better lit and cleaner hallway, one Gibbs would expect to see in a federal building. "Now we go down the rabbit hole," she whispered. "Stay to the right and hurry. My people can't keep us blind forever."

Gibbs swore to himself and briefly considered stopping her to get some answers to his growing pile of questions. His gut, however, told him not to do that, but to trust her and follow her down the hallway. And, whatever questions the end of the hallway answered would lead to a mountain of more questions.

The walk was very quick for such a long hallway for Gibbs. He tried to read Hollis's face as he walked alongside her; she was focused on the door at the end of the hallway, her eyes and body language indicated she was keeping her emotions at bay, and that she had been here before, more than once.

The door itself was made of metal and circular, with a brightly lit touch screen panel to its right. Hollis swiftly pulled a couple of cards out of her inside jacket pocket; she passed the first card over the panel, and they heard a short beep. She held the second card over the panel for five seconds, at which Gibbs heard another beep.

A numeric keypad, shaded in navy blue, then appeared on the panel. She punched in a combination of 21 numbers, at which point the panel beeped three times -- long, short, long.

"You ready, Jethro?" Hollis asked him as she unexpectedly and suddenly grabbed his hand.

"Didn't come all this way for nothing," he said, his smirk putting her more at ease. She then reached in her jacket for what Gibbs thought was some kind of crystal, a shade of blue he later determined was azure. It was just over six inches long, as thick as a cigar, and pointed on both ends.

Hollis put one of the ends onto the 5 on the keypad, and held it there for five seconds. "Stand back," she said, pulling him backwards by the hand. The door opened onto yet another hallway. She took Gibbs through the doorway inside and to the left, and down about 50 feet, where there were a series of windows.

After going into the hallway and as they got closer to the row of windows, Gibbs could hear and feel a persistent humming.

He had no frame of reference for what he saw once he got to those windows.

He and Hollis looked down at what appeared to be a large auditorium, with dozens of people milling around amidst tables and workstations all surrounding a single object. Neither he nor Hollis couldn't help but gawk at the gigantic greyish metal ring, attached to a larger, greyish polygon base, in the middle of the auditorium.

"What in the hell is that thing, Hollis?"

"They call it the Exodus Device, Jethro, only to be used in the event of an unavoidable, all-out nuclear war. The federal government and the military has been preparing for it for some time--"

"'Some time'?!? Since when? How long?"

"At least when Khalinin put himself in charge of the Soviet Red Army," she replied. "The hope is that this week in Geneva, Khalinin will see reason and pull back his country's own preparation for war. If not, that Exodus Device is our last hope."

"Exodus...it's not a bomb, is it?"

Hollis shook her head. "It's an escape device."

"Escape, to where?"

"I'm still not sure...but as insane as this sounds, it's to take people to another planet, another dimension, another universe when the missiles start flying."

Hollis turned and grabbed Gibbs by the shoulders. "I didn't bring you here for the hell of it, not just to read you in, and not to bullshit you. That device is very real, and it may end up saving lives. Yours and your people."

Ask and ye shall receive.


Chapter 14

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

--The Eminent Domain Act gave the federal government a major discount on buying up property around the Pentagon. This included Reagan International Airport, which was turned into the new Andrews Air Force Base in 2006. At the same time, the old Andrews base was expanded and reopened as the new Reagan airport--

Gibbs turned his gaze from Hollis back towards the ring down in the auditorium, and then he couldn't tear himself away.

He guessed the ring itself was roughly five stories high and equally as wide, the base two stories thick and roughly 60 yards long by 60 yards wide. From his angle, Gibbs noted steps going up two of the four sides visible from his angle and people on both sides of the ring; they were standing or walking on, or by, ramps arching up towards the ring and meeting in the middle.

An alarm then sounded in the auditorium, spooking Gibbs. "It's alright, that's not for us," Hollis said. "Watch."

As the white-coated people hurried down to the floor, Gibbs looked around the auditorium. He noticed more people in the white coats, some in civilian attire, and others in military uniform or military gear. He was way too distant from them to see details, and his eyesight wasn't that great anyway.

The next best thing for Gibbs was to ask someone with better eyesight who had been here before. "Civilians and military down there?"

"Yeah," Hollis answered. "Scientists, computer techs, military officers, nurses, Marines, you name it, all culled from dozens of civilian and government agencies from NASA to Microsoft."

"How often do they test that thing?"

"I've been told daily."

"Is that another test going on, down there?"

"Yeah, and we won't have long to wait to see it in action. You'll hear a loud 'whirr' and the ring itself will to glow green. As long as you don't stare directly at the light in the middle for too long, you'll be fine."

Hollis and Gibbs saw the pace pick up all across the auditorium, especially around the ring and its base. As people moved to their workstations and to other areas, a group of civilians, scientists and military personnel gathered around a large station roughly 40 feet from the front of the ring.

A couple of minutes later, the side of the ring began to glow as another alarm sounded. Shortly afterwards, rays of light emanated from inside the ring towards its middle, into a disc. Within minutes, the disc had filled the rim.

"Watch," Hollis said.

Gibbs saw the air vibrate at the base of the right side, then watched in astonishment as two beige military humvees slowly came through the disc. The vehicles stopped, then turned towards, and down, the steps on the far side.

"Did I just see what I thought I saw?" Gibbs asked.

"I had the same reaction the first time I saw that for myself," Hollis said. "And by the way it was four Army humvees, an entire company on foot, an SUV filled with Congresspeople and a K-9 unit."

"You could tell this how?"

"The vehicles, soldiers and dogs were obvious. I was told about the Congresspeople on my second visit."

Hollis expected the side of the ring to dim, and for the disc of light to slowly shrink until it disappeared. However, the side continued to glow, and they saw the air vibrating on the other side.

To her surprise, three Black Hawk helicopters flew out that side and went towards the rear of the auditorium, where each landed. Only then did the disc shrink and the side of the ring dim until it returned to the state it was when Gibbs first saw it.

Afterwards, as business proceeded throughout the auditorium, Gibbs squatted down and tried to collect his thoughts. Hollis gave him a few minutes, then put her hand on his arm. "Jethro, we need to leave. I'll debrief you in the car."

He got up, looked at the scene and tried to memorize as much of it as he could in 30 seconds, then followed Hollis out of the hallway, and all the way back to her car. As she placed calls to her fellow CID agents, Gibbs reflected on what he had just seen.

Although he grew up watching Gunsmoke and reading Jack London, Gibbs in fact did have some working knowledge of science fiction. He had read Asimov, Bradbury and Wells and -- despite what he had hinted to Abby -- had watched a few Star Trek episodes. And he had watched a handful of sci-fi movies with Tony ranging from the classic (2001) to the absurd (Plan 9 from Outer Space).

Gibbs had no more than a bare-bones familiarity with the genre, however. His world was filled with boats, bastards, military and a fierce devotion to the family and friends he had built for himself to make up for the loss of those he couldn't protect. Despite their brief separation, Hollis was among those whom Gibbs considered family. He trusted and loved her greatly, and if she said something was serious he was going to pay attention.

What he had just seen, he realized, was as big and serious as it might get in this world.

"How many people know about this, besides us?" he asked.

"I'm not exactly sure. Tens of thousands--"

"How many?"

"--the President, the Joint Chiefs, Congress, the Supreme Court," Hollis said. "I know all five branches of the military are involved but Army and Air Force are taking the lead. The CIA's involved in some way, how I can't tell you yet. NASA and FEMA's involved for certain, and from what we've been able to dig up, anyone from any agency you would expect to be involved in an operation to rebuild civilization elsewhere."

From there, Gibbs threw question after question at her. Hollis said this particular ring was the only one she knew for certain existed, but there were strong rumors of more rings. Large rings in Area 51 in Nevada, upstate New York, west Texas, Montana, Alaska and the Appalachians, and smaller rings in 52 of the top 75 cities. Britain, Japan, China, Israel, France and Germany had their own rings; Hollis had even heard rumors that the Communist Bloc had their own devices, either copied from the Americans or developed independently.

"You said this had to do with McCallister," Gibbs said. "How many people in the government know about this? Does this extend to directors?"

"Jethro, yes. We think from every federal agency. Again, think of who you would need to rebuild the government--"

"So Jenny would have known most likely."

"She would have, and her family if she had one."

"But not assistant directors."

"If there were time, perhaps."

"Would someone kill for that kind of access, assuming they thought the world was coming to an end and they themselves weren't on the short list?"

"Theoretically, yes," Hollis said. "In actuality, you'd have to answer that for yourself."

"I suppose I'll have to, now."

The drive home was quiet, although they both kept an eye out for unexpected and unwanted guests. Hollis had told Gibbs everything she could, and Gibbs took advantage of the ride to reflect on what he'd seen and been told.

As he did so, he asked himself where his investigation was heading. Would finding Jenny's killer be the easy part of it? And, would uncovering the reasons behind the murder be what put himself, and his family, in the crosshairs?

Chapter 16

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Washington, D.C.

Five hours earlier (2:22 a.m. EDT)

As soon as they left the Army lot, Hollis and Gibbs picked up on a dark Crown Victoria tailing them. Hollis drove 11 blocks trying to ditch the car and was about to place a call to a colleague when she saw red and blue flashing lights in her rearview mirror.

The lights were off in the distance and closing around the vehicle tailing them. She didn't wait around, speeding away after guessing seven or eight Metro police vehicles to have surrounded the car.

"Glad I won't need Javy," Hollis said of her colleague, who she told Gibbs was a fellow CID officer which patrolled the area when CID made "visits" to the property they had just left. She also explained that she and Javy were part of a small group of CID personnel who knew about the Exodus Project and with that knowledge came danger.

"There aren't a lot of us within CID who've seen it for ourselves," she explained. "I know a handful of agents from other agencies who've seen it for themselves: DEA, FBI, CIA and before you ask, Fornell's not one of them. The group of people who know about this who aren't supposed to is small; you were vetted heavily by our group before I got the go ahead to bring you there."

"Figured that, Hollis. Forgot to tell me that little detail, by the way."

"I'm telling you, now."

"Anything else you forgot to tell me?"

Hollis exhaled in frustration. "Yeah. I'm flying you to Area 51 to meet the green men from Mars who built that thing."

Gibbs smirked.

"Jethro, we've had to draw our little circle tight," she continued. "I only found out three weeks ago from a fellow NCO I know from Fort Bragg. He told me I'd been vetted for weeks; you only got in because you've been thoroughly checked out and the people responsible for that busted their asses to do it in days, not the usual three to six weeks. Being my boyfriend wasn't good enough; the people leading this group wanted to know that you'd keep the secret and not blab it all over town -- not even to your own people."

"Not that I was gonna 'blab it all over town', but there's more to this than finding Jen's killer, unless someone knew weeks ago she was gonna get killed."

"No one saw that coming, Jethro."

"So you were already planning this."

"Jethro," she said, "if things get...as bad as they could, I'm on a secondary list to go through that thing and over to whatever planet or dimension they have designated for the evacuees to--"

"List?"

"There's a primary list, for basically anyone you'd expect to be necessary to rebuild civilization. The secondary list is for anyone else they can find on the streets when the sirens go off."

"Anyone they can find, Hollis...doesn't make sense," Gibbs said. "In that scenario, the city'd be depopulated or there'd be mass panic. What in hell would you do then -- get as far out of town as you could as quick as you could or run in town and look for some giant magic ring to save your ass?"

"That's the plan, as far as we can determine. This is Washington, remember?"

They chuckled, and Hollis's demeanor turned serious again.

"I was able to call in some favors and watch over your team tonight. I won't be able to do that again," she said. "At 2034, we received a call from Metro about a shootout. Army Ranger assigned to the Pentagon we believe was looking to buy coke was shot dead. The shooter refused to give ID. We found he is Petty Officer Miguel Romero, and is AWOL from the USS Rutherford, which is currently in the Gulf of Mexico."

"Normally I'd have gotten that call and had my team on the scene by now."

"I was able to keep a lid on it for a little while. Within the next hour you'll get a call informing you about the shooting. You'll need to hand it off to another agent, or two; we think Romero's involved with the Reynosa cartel."

"Russians who took over shed a lot of blood down there doing so," Gibbs said. "I can pass it off to Patterson, get Strickland to help him...got any ideas how I find out more about that thing you showed me? Besides you handing over your files?"

Hollis smiled. "I'll see what I can get you in the next 48 hours. In the meantime, open the glove department and grab the white envelope."

Gibbs did so.

"Thumb drive. That's where our group's techies began. Have McGee search quietly and under no circumstances from your computers at NCIS. And tell him not to get caught -- the information that drive unlocks is cleared for the highest levels only."

"How high?"

"'You're dead if you're found out' level. Literally."

They saw both CID and suits sitting in their vehicles, watching them as she pulled up in front of his house. They both got out and searched the back yard, then both floors of the house and the basement. Gibbs watched from his porch as she and the other CID agents drove away, then gave the suits a withering look before he went inside.

Gibbs then did something he almost never did -- lock his front door -- and began calling the rest of his team. He told everyone to stay put for the night and to be at work by 0700. He'd have to wait to talk with McGee about the thumb drives until the morning, although he didn't like it.

He went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, watching the street while the pot brewed. Afterwards, Gibbs went downstairs and began looking for bugs; he got the call about Romero, then called Patterson and ordered him to take the case, before going upstairs for a quick shower.

0600 didn't come soon enough for Gibbs. Locking his front door, after having made sure his back door and windows were secure, he got in his sedan and headed for the Navy Yard. Even with two pots of coffee in him and a large thermos full beside him in the passenger seat, it was shaping up to be another long day.

He hoped his people would cut him some slack for being a little more cranky than usual.

--General Samuel Lane was heckled yesterday outside the Pentagon by a half-dozen students from George Washington and Georgetown universities. Fox News was there live, and remained on the scene as the General left the Pentagon and over four dozen protestors, many representing a group of Vietnam War and Gulf War veterans, arrived--

--people have been arriving at St. Peter's Basilica to pray for peace since the announcement of the former Soviet premier's death--

--the Daily Planet is reporting that New Troy Senator Martha Kent has broken with the Democratic Party's 'peace plank' --