Post by Brky2020 on Aug 16, 2021 13:15:06 GMT
Chapter 13
--the drones have flown away and are keeping a distance from the military helicopters over RFK Stadium…hold on…there’s a…a figure, a figure in green and—oh my Lord, everything’s turned green, there’s a green hue everywhere, our cabin is bathed in an emerald green hue and that’s what we’re seeing outside, as far as we can see. I think that can only mean one thing—
--WTOP Radio helicopter flying near RFK Stadium
Washington, D.C.
U.S. Marine Corps Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion helicopter
5:24 p.m. EDT
Everyone inside the cabin and the cockpit of the Super Stallion noticed the sudden emerald green hue everywhere, and the phenomenon illustrated the two types of people onboard.
Everyone not native to this planet tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Boss!”, DiNozzo said loudly, so Gibbs – and everyone else – could hear. “Seen anything like this before?”
They had in fact seen something like it, the summer before Kate joined the team, when Gibbs and DiNozzo sent to investigate the death of a Marine outside of Huntington, West Virginia. The very air turned red as they and Dr. Donald Mallard moved in to claim the body; all three were interrogated by Homeland Security and told never to mention the incident to anyone, even their teammates.
Of course, Gibbs and his team members talked to one another about it.
It turned out to be one of thousands of weird incidents whispered about, where nothing was officially reported or acknowledged but those involved knew something had happened, and where something was going to be said in a city where you couldn’t keep a secret.
Something was certainly happening here, now, and in front of tens of thousands of people. There wouldn’t be any covering this up.
“Keep focused, DiNozzo,” Gibbs shouted back. “That goes for everyone.”
The other group of people in the copter acted like they had seen it before. Gibbs took note of it and decided to take it up with the leader of the local Major Case Response Team. Satisfied that everyone in his group heard him, Gibbs looked across towards Marcus Stewart.
“Stewart! Any idea what’s going on?”, he yelled rather loudly, as to get the former SEAL’s attention.
“Aliens?”, Abby Sciuto interjected, to Gibbs’ chagrin. “Oh my God, Kate, Tony, McGee, Ducky, Gibbs, everyone, this is so weird! And so cool!”
Gibbs almost always gave his forensic scientist a lot of leeway, more that his own agents, which led to the perception that the so-called “rocker scientist” was his favorite among the team members.
He also noticed a few of the Marines looking at her strangely, unlike everyone else in the group. They tried to be discreet, but they weren’t discreet enough to escape his notice; curiously, he noticed they weren’t leering at her, but more that she wasn’t quite who they expected.
It was something else he made a mental note to follow up on, but this – as with Abby’s usual expositions on something involving the case – wasn’t the time for that.
“Abby! Focus,” Gibbs barked. “That goes for everyone in my group.” He again looked across the cabin at Stewart, and the back of the woman who – he thought – might be more than his Senior Special Agent. “Stewart. You know what’s going on here?”
“I do,” the ex-Marine replied.
“Wanna tell me what that is?”, an impatient Gibbs said seconds later.
“I will, but not until we get back to the Navy Yard,” Stewart replied, in a tone that said he didn’t want to pursue the matter at the moment.
Gibbs kept his retort to himself. He closed his eyes to rub them; it had already been a long day. He looked down to grab his water bottle, then noticed someone standing near him.
“OH MY GOD!”, he heard Kate shout two seats over. He looked up and saw a man in a bodysuit standing in his aisle, surrounded by a brighter, greenish light that was just enough to make him distinctive from everyone else in the cabin.
Gibbs noticed another man, same appearance, surrounded by light, in the aisle ahead of his. Then he looked over his shoulder, and saw two more men, in the two aisles behind his, who looked the same.
“You see what I’m seeing, Boss?”, DiNozzo shouted to Gibbs. “Or did somebody spike my water bottle?”
“Hell of a mirage if that’s what’s going on,” Gibbs replied, but all of the non-natives began to figure out that the mirage, hologram, whatever it was in each row was of the same man
“I apologize for my rather abrupt appearance and I do realize it may be jarring to many of you,” said the tall, muscular Black man wearing a green-and-gray uniform with a symbol in the shape of a stylized lantern on his chest. “My name is John Stewart. I am also known as a Green Lantern, one of the members of a law enforcement organization known as the Green Lantern Corps.”
John Stewart’s avatars mirrored each other in speech and action, and definitely had the attention of the cabin. John Stewart’s mention of his name also got the non-natives to connect him to Marcus Stewart. Are they brothers? Cousins?, thought Gibbs as he glanced back at Marcus, whose attention was squarely on the man in green.
“I am an American, and I represent another organization, called the Justice League of America. We are a group of individuals dedicated to the protection of Earth and to the people on it – regardless of how long they’ve been here. That includes you, and the people inside the stadium, and others like them, scattered throughout the country, and the planet.”
Julie unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up to face the avatar of John Stewart standing in her row. “You should have called ahead before you showed up on my ship--”
“Our ship,” interjected Marcus.
“—our ship with our people from that other Earth, John. We haven’t even gotten them back to the Navy Yard.”
She run their team with him?, Gibbs thought. He caught DiNozzo’s eye, and knew he was thinking the same thing. Only then did he make the connection between the woman and Kate, and rebuked himself for not making it earlier.
“We – as in my group – have no intention of taking these people from you—”, John Stewart replied, before he was interrupted.
“You don’t have any right, either,” Conners interjected. “Don’t forget—”
“Agent Conners!”, Marcus and Julie said simultaneously, with Julie’s admonition being a bit more intense than Marcus’s. Marcus and Julie exchanged a look, and Gibbs glanced back at John Stewart, who looked like he had seen whatever was going on between those two agents a thousand times before.
Wonder if Agent Stewart has a Rule 12, Gibbs thought. Or if he and she broke it.
“I know you have good intentions, Green Lantern,” Marcus said.
Gibbs thought of the ‘superheroes’ he and Kate met at his house, before they left and arrived on this new Earth. One of the heroes had a stylized lantern symbol on his chest, and Gibbs filed that away as yet another thing to follow up on.
“We – as in NCIS – know you’re aware, as are we and the rest of the world,” Marcus continued. “That includes the FBI, and the DEO” – he glanced towards Larry’s seat – “and all of the other federal agencies. We’re not sitting on our hands on this, and definitely not when it comes to our own.”
“All we want to do is help,” John replied. “We’ve informed the White House of that, and the Pentagon, and I’m informing you.”
“I’ll let my director know that,” Marcus said. “When we get these people to the Navy Yard.”
“The League also told the White House that the President won’t have the final say in what happens to these refugees. We’ll fight for all of them, and that includes all of you,” John said, his avatar looking briefly at each member of Gibbs’s group.
“Appreciate that, Mr. Stewart,” Gibbs said. No one else in his group dared to speak up; he figured the debrief would confirm his suspicions – that everyone else, like himself, were unnerved.
“We need to get going, Green Lantern,” Marcus said with a calm, no-nonsense tone. “Now.”
Gibbs noted a subtle tension between the two men. How personal is it?
DiNozzo also noted the tension, from a different angle. This guy doesn’t like outsiders interfering in his business. Just like Gibbs.
“Alright,” John replied, politely. “You know where to reach me. The League is always available to help.”
The avatars, and the emerald hue, disappeared abruptly, and Marcus immediately turned to the cockpit to instruct the pilot to head right to the Navy Yard. Then Marcus addressed everyone in the cabin. “Our Navy Yard is in the same place as your own, so it won’t be very long before we arrive. We’ve got a spread waiting for you, and we’ll answer as many questions as we can.”
Five minutes later, the SuperStallion made its final approach, to the roof of NCIS’s Navy Yard headquarters. Awaiting them was a small contingent of six Marines, eight NCIS agents and the director of the agency, Maurice Drake.
Drake looked around, as the copter became visible in the distance. Today was a beautiful day for early June, warm, low humidity and blue skies. If he had a good pair of binoculars or a telescope, he could have easily spotted the various civilian orbital hotels, and the Justice League satellite, and with a strong enough lens the Lewis and Clark O’Neil cylindrical space colony.
What will these people think of that? Drake thought. We’ve sure come a hell of a long way in 30 some years.
The landing spot for the SuperStallion was part of a project begun by one of Drake’s predecessors, Jenny Shepard: he had read the proposal for an expansion of the Yard that would have provided a rooftop entrance and exit bay for an advanced shuttle to be used by the Major Case Response Team or one of the many proposed ‘special’ teams. Drake pondered the paths not taken in history every so often, and he decided he wasn’t sure he wanted to oversee a team of metahuman agents flying in a fancy Star Trek-esque shuttle everywhere. Better to leave that for the military, he had decided.
He then pondered another path not taken: what if these people were about to meet their dopplegangers? What would Shepard have done in my place? What about Leon? What if he hadn’t taken the bullet for David in the dining room while I put myself between Jackie and the shooter?
There’s a damn good reason we’re doing this here and not on the ground, Drake thought as the copter make its final approach. Bones taught me to control the narrative. I can do that, this way. Though I really should’ve had that statue removed—ah hell, that would’ve made things worse.
At least we can talk to them before they find out about that.
The SuperStallion landed, and Marcus and Julie were the first to step out. Then Drake saw some unfamiliar faces, and several from the past that he and everyone else in America knew.
Game time, he thought as he walked up to shake Gibbs’s hand.
Such a beautiful day. I wonder when the hell the hammer’s gonna drop.
--the drones have flown away and are keeping a distance from the military helicopters over RFK Stadium…hold on…there’s a…a figure, a figure in green and—oh my Lord, everything’s turned green, there’s a green hue everywhere, our cabin is bathed in an emerald green hue and that’s what we’re seeing outside, as far as we can see. I think that can only mean one thing—
--WTOP Radio helicopter flying near RFK Stadium
Washington, D.C.
U.S. Marine Corps Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion helicopter
5:24 p.m. EDT
Everyone inside the cabin and the cockpit of the Super Stallion noticed the sudden emerald green hue everywhere, and the phenomenon illustrated the two types of people onboard.
Everyone not native to this planet tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Boss!”, DiNozzo said loudly, so Gibbs – and everyone else – could hear. “Seen anything like this before?”
They had in fact seen something like it, the summer before Kate joined the team, when Gibbs and DiNozzo sent to investigate the death of a Marine outside of Huntington, West Virginia. The very air turned red as they and Dr. Donald Mallard moved in to claim the body; all three were interrogated by Homeland Security and told never to mention the incident to anyone, even their teammates.
Of course, Gibbs and his team members talked to one another about it.
It turned out to be one of thousands of weird incidents whispered about, where nothing was officially reported or acknowledged but those involved knew something had happened, and where something was going to be said in a city where you couldn’t keep a secret.
Something was certainly happening here, now, and in front of tens of thousands of people. There wouldn’t be any covering this up.
“Keep focused, DiNozzo,” Gibbs shouted back. “That goes for everyone.”
The other group of people in the copter acted like they had seen it before. Gibbs took note of it and decided to take it up with the leader of the local Major Case Response Team. Satisfied that everyone in his group heard him, Gibbs looked across towards Marcus Stewart.
“Stewart! Any idea what’s going on?”, he yelled rather loudly, as to get the former SEAL’s attention.
“Aliens?”, Abby Sciuto interjected, to Gibbs’ chagrin. “Oh my God, Kate, Tony, McGee, Ducky, Gibbs, everyone, this is so weird! And so cool!”
Gibbs almost always gave his forensic scientist a lot of leeway, more that his own agents, which led to the perception that the so-called “rocker scientist” was his favorite among the team members.
He also noticed a few of the Marines looking at her strangely, unlike everyone else in the group. They tried to be discreet, but they weren’t discreet enough to escape his notice; curiously, he noticed they weren’t leering at her, but more that she wasn’t quite who they expected.
It was something else he made a mental note to follow up on, but this – as with Abby’s usual expositions on something involving the case – wasn’t the time for that.
“Abby! Focus,” Gibbs barked. “That goes for everyone in my group.” He again looked across the cabin at Stewart, and the back of the woman who – he thought – might be more than his Senior Special Agent. “Stewart. You know what’s going on here?”
“I do,” the ex-Marine replied.
“Wanna tell me what that is?”, an impatient Gibbs said seconds later.
“I will, but not until we get back to the Navy Yard,” Stewart replied, in a tone that said he didn’t want to pursue the matter at the moment.
Gibbs kept his retort to himself. He closed his eyes to rub them; it had already been a long day. He looked down to grab his water bottle, then noticed someone standing near him.
“OH MY GOD!”, he heard Kate shout two seats over. He looked up and saw a man in a bodysuit standing in his aisle, surrounded by a brighter, greenish light that was just enough to make him distinctive from everyone else in the cabin.
Gibbs noticed another man, same appearance, surrounded by light, in the aisle ahead of his. Then he looked over his shoulder, and saw two more men, in the two aisles behind his, who looked the same.
“You see what I’m seeing, Boss?”, DiNozzo shouted to Gibbs. “Or did somebody spike my water bottle?”
“Hell of a mirage if that’s what’s going on,” Gibbs replied, but all of the non-natives began to figure out that the mirage, hologram, whatever it was in each row was of the same man
“I apologize for my rather abrupt appearance and I do realize it may be jarring to many of you,” said the tall, muscular Black man wearing a green-and-gray uniform with a symbol in the shape of a stylized lantern on his chest. “My name is John Stewart. I am also known as a Green Lantern, one of the members of a law enforcement organization known as the Green Lantern Corps.”
John Stewart’s avatars mirrored each other in speech and action, and definitely had the attention of the cabin. John Stewart’s mention of his name also got the non-natives to connect him to Marcus Stewart. Are they brothers? Cousins?, thought Gibbs as he glanced back at Marcus, whose attention was squarely on the man in green.
“I am an American, and I represent another organization, called the Justice League of America. We are a group of individuals dedicated to the protection of Earth and to the people on it – regardless of how long they’ve been here. That includes you, and the people inside the stadium, and others like them, scattered throughout the country, and the planet.”
Julie unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up to face the avatar of John Stewart standing in her row. “You should have called ahead before you showed up on my ship--”
“Our ship,” interjected Marcus.
“—our ship with our people from that other Earth, John. We haven’t even gotten them back to the Navy Yard.”
She run their team with him?, Gibbs thought. He caught DiNozzo’s eye, and knew he was thinking the same thing. Only then did he make the connection between the woman and Kate, and rebuked himself for not making it earlier.
“We – as in my group – have no intention of taking these people from you—”, John Stewart replied, before he was interrupted.
“You don’t have any right, either,” Conners interjected. “Don’t forget—”
“Agent Conners!”, Marcus and Julie said simultaneously, with Julie’s admonition being a bit more intense than Marcus’s. Marcus and Julie exchanged a look, and Gibbs glanced back at John Stewart, who looked like he had seen whatever was going on between those two agents a thousand times before.
Wonder if Agent Stewart has a Rule 12, Gibbs thought. Or if he and she broke it.
“I know you have good intentions, Green Lantern,” Marcus said.
Gibbs thought of the ‘superheroes’ he and Kate met at his house, before they left and arrived on this new Earth. One of the heroes had a stylized lantern symbol on his chest, and Gibbs filed that away as yet another thing to follow up on.
“We – as in NCIS – know you’re aware, as are we and the rest of the world,” Marcus continued. “That includes the FBI, and the DEO” – he glanced towards Larry’s seat – “and all of the other federal agencies. We’re not sitting on our hands on this, and definitely not when it comes to our own.”
“All we want to do is help,” John replied. “We’ve informed the White House of that, and the Pentagon, and I’m informing you.”
“I’ll let my director know that,” Marcus said. “When we get these people to the Navy Yard.”
“The League also told the White House that the President won’t have the final say in what happens to these refugees. We’ll fight for all of them, and that includes all of you,” John said, his avatar looking briefly at each member of Gibbs’s group.
“Appreciate that, Mr. Stewart,” Gibbs said. No one else in his group dared to speak up; he figured the debrief would confirm his suspicions – that everyone else, like himself, were unnerved.
“We need to get going, Green Lantern,” Marcus said with a calm, no-nonsense tone. “Now.”
Gibbs noted a subtle tension between the two men. How personal is it?
DiNozzo also noted the tension, from a different angle. This guy doesn’t like outsiders interfering in his business. Just like Gibbs.
“Alright,” John replied, politely. “You know where to reach me. The League is always available to help.”
The avatars, and the emerald hue, disappeared abruptly, and Marcus immediately turned to the cockpit to instruct the pilot to head right to the Navy Yard. Then Marcus addressed everyone in the cabin. “Our Navy Yard is in the same place as your own, so it won’t be very long before we arrive. We’ve got a spread waiting for you, and we’ll answer as many questions as we can.”
Five minutes later, the SuperStallion made its final approach, to the roof of NCIS’s Navy Yard headquarters. Awaiting them was a small contingent of six Marines, eight NCIS agents and the director of the agency, Maurice Drake.
Drake looked around, as the copter became visible in the distance. Today was a beautiful day for early June, warm, low humidity and blue skies. If he had a good pair of binoculars or a telescope, he could have easily spotted the various civilian orbital hotels, and the Justice League satellite, and with a strong enough lens the Lewis and Clark O’Neil cylindrical space colony.
What will these people think of that? Drake thought. We’ve sure come a hell of a long way in 30 some years.
The landing spot for the SuperStallion was part of a project begun by one of Drake’s predecessors, Jenny Shepard: he had read the proposal for an expansion of the Yard that would have provided a rooftop entrance and exit bay for an advanced shuttle to be used by the Major Case Response Team or one of the many proposed ‘special’ teams. Drake pondered the paths not taken in history every so often, and he decided he wasn’t sure he wanted to oversee a team of metahuman agents flying in a fancy Star Trek-esque shuttle everywhere. Better to leave that for the military, he had decided.
He then pondered another path not taken: what if these people were about to meet their dopplegangers? What would Shepard have done in my place? What about Leon? What if he hadn’t taken the bullet for David in the dining room while I put myself between Jackie and the shooter?
There’s a damn good reason we’re doing this here and not on the ground, Drake thought as the copter make its final approach. Bones taught me to control the narrative. I can do that, this way. Though I really should’ve had that statue removed—ah hell, that would’ve made things worse.
At least we can talk to them before they find out about that.
The SuperStallion landed, and Marcus and Julie were the first to step out. Then Drake saw some unfamiliar faces, and several from the past that he and everyone else in America knew.
Game time, he thought as he walked up to shake Gibbs’s hand.
Such a beautiful day. I wonder when the hell the hammer’s gonna drop.
