NCIS Big Bang, Gen, The World of Hate and Fear
Title: The World of Hate and Fear: Getting the Band Together (II/V)
Summary: When the US Government asks former employee Jamie Madrox, now head of a small detective agency, to recruit leaders for X-Factor teams to be based within NCIS (amongst others) he can think of only one man for the job: former Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~21,700 for GtBT
Pairing: N/A - Gen
Spoiler Warnings: Vague spoilers for Yankee White and Bete Noire.
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Simple.
Notes: My thanks to hentzau for doing half of the spell checking. Any further mistakes are all down to me.
Getting the Band Together forms the first part of a much longer story that I will hopefully finish entirely over the next week or so. It can be read without the rest if you wish - but please come back and read the extra parts, there's some good stuff in there.
Panel One: Air Force One. Special Agent Caitlin Todd passes a man in Naval uniform holding a briefcase. She nods to him.
Panel Two: Same. Todd settles in a chair and takes out a book.
Panel Three: Same. Aviator clutches at his chest.
Panel Four: Same. Todd looks up curiously.
Panel Five: Same. Aviator falls to the floor. The impression of a seizure.
Panel Six. Same. Todd presses two fingers to the aviator's neck.
Todd: We have to land the plane, now. He's dead.
Getting the Band Together (Part II of V): Air Force One
“It's not a mutant case,” Gibbs said, hanging up on Morrow. “But we're the nearest team.”
“It might be nice,” Tony said with a lopsided shrug. “Doesn't always have to be about mutants.”
“You ready, Duck?” Gibbs asked, watching Ducky stuff a bag with supplies.
“As ready as I can hope to be, Jethro,” Ducky said, shaking his head. “Particularly when I've not been given much notice.”
The case in Kansas had been a quick one and Gibbs was thankful for that but the call from Morrow was unexpected. A Naval Aviator had dropped dead on Air Force One, forcing an immediate landing, and Gibbs' team were nearby.
“Boss,” Tony said as they climbed into the truck. “You know we're going to walk into a monumental pissing contest.”
“I know, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “You'll just have to make sure we win.”
“Me?” Tony started. “What am I supposed to do?”
“What you're good at,” Gibbs said with a slight smile. “Talk.”
* * * *
Gibbs didn't relax until he could feel the drone of the engines beneath his feet. Tony was moving from one end of the plane to the other, looking for anything suspicious, and Ducky was crouched beside the body of the aviator, looking for a cause of death. The pilot and co-pilot were shaken but focused on their duties. There was something else, though, something that didn't belong.
“Huh,” Gibbs said, finishing his mental catalogue. DiNozzo?
“Jethro?” Ducky looked up from the aviator.
“Something or nothing, Duck,” Gibbs said over Tony's answering Boss?
Someone moving about just along from you. I'm moving to intercept.
Want me to block the escape?
Read my mind, DiNozzo.
Gibbs made his way swiftly and silently down the corridors that connected the sections of the plane, gun held loosely by his side, and felt Tony moving into to position. The presence was female, that much he could tell at a glance, with the particular sharp angles of some kind of agent and the underlying worry of discovery that inhabited most mutant minds.
Gibbs pulled back, not wanting to alert the mutant, and eased himself into the section she was hiding in, the press section. Tony nodded to him from the door at the opposite end and gestured with his gun to a row of seats on Gibbs' right-hand side. Gibbs crossed the aisles and stopped two rows in front of the seats Tony had pointed out.
“I know you're there,” the woman said, standing up with a sigh. “I can feel it.”
She was short brunette with kind eyes and a set to her shoulders that spoke of her training. She held her hands out from her body, palms open, and stepped out from behind the seats.
“Who are you?” Gibbs asked as Tony came up behind her.
“Special Agent Kate Todd, secret service,” she replied, looking over her shoulder at Tony. “We're on the same side.”
“Any reason you're hiding?” Gibbs asked, nodding at Tony to put his gun away.
“I didn't trust him,” Todd said, nodding at Tony. “There was something shifty about him. I had a feeling you were going to - commandeer the plane.”
“Shifty?” Tony asked, his voice rising an octave. “I thought that my explanation was perfectly good.”
“Perfectly good nonsense, maybe,” Todd said, shaking her head. “And you were nervous.”
“I'll have you know I'm pretty good at concealing my emotions,” Tony said, hands on his hips looking almost comical as he faced down Todd.
“She's a mutant, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said quietly and Todd's head snapped in his direction.
“Low-level empath, but how did you -” Todd frowned, her brow creasing.
“Know?” Gibbs finished and tapped his head. Todd's shoulders slumped.
“How do you telepaths get everywhere?” she asked and Gibbs didn't bother to answer, knowing it was rhetorical.
“In Gibbs' case they get asked,” Tony said, pride in his voice and Gibbs had to cover his smile with his hand before Tony saw it. Todd shot him a quizzical look.
“NCIS: X-Factor liaison,” Gibbs said by way of explanation. “Are you the agent who got to him first?”
“Yes,” Todd said with a firm nod.
“That explains why you're here, then,” Gibbs said, nodding back.
Jethro? Ducky's voice came unexpectedly. I think I have a cause of death.
On my way, Ducky, Gibbs replied.
“Ducky has a cause of death,” he added out loud to Tony before turning on his heel, not waiting for Tony or Todd.
Gibbs had to admit, privately, that Todd had impressed him. The desire to stay and see the case through because she had been the one to declare the aviator dead showed she had instincts he could use. Going toe to toe with Tony was good too and God knew Gibbs needed someone else on the team to balance Tony's enthusiasm.
“Duck?” Gibbs avoided preamble when he arrived at the scene again.
“I think it might have been a heartattack,” Ducky said. “It's so unusual to see one in someone so young - I really need an autopsy to be certain - but perhaps Miss Sciuto would be able to look at his records for us and provide us with a history?”
“There's nothing more you can tell?” Gibbs asked and Ducky shook his head. “Zip him up then. You help, DiNozzo.”
“Yes, boss,” Tony nodded.
* * * *
Todd followed him through to the communication room and, with her grudging help, he managed to patch through to Abby in her lab.
“Gibbs!” she exclaimed with a smile. Her blindfold was bright red, a slash of scarlet across her face. “The Director told me you had a new case - is it really on Air Force One?”
“Yeah, Abby,” Gibbs said, an answering smile threatening to cross his mouth.
“That's so cool, I wish I was there,” Abby said, pouting for a moment. “I suppose you want to know about your victim?”
“He's not a victim yet, Abs.”
“With you it's only a matter of time, Gibbs. I can count the times we've had a case turn out not to be hinky on the fingers of one hand.”
“The aviator, Abby?”
“Sure! Okay - he's Lieutenant Commander Thwaite. Carries the football, which is cool.”
“Ducky wanted to know if he has any history of heart disease.”
“Clean as a whistle, Gibbs, passed his last physical with super high marks. Does that make things hinky?”
“Might just,” Gibbs said, suppressing another smile at Abby's enthusiasm. “He suffered a heartattack. We should be back soon and then we'll know for sure.”
“I want his clothes, Gibbs,” Abby said, pointing a pen at the screen, “and anything he might have come in contact with. Or ate.”
“I'll get DiNozzo to take care of it,” Gibbs said. “As soon as he and Ducky are done fooling around in the President's office.”
“Oooh - tell them to take a photo for me!” Abby said as Gibbs cut the link. “What?” he added when Todd's concern flooded over into him.
“Thwaite had dinner with the President,” Todd said. “If he ate something bad -”
“You contact the ground,” Gibbs said, heading swiftly for the door. “I'll get DiNozzo to bag the food.”
Todd nodded and turned back to the console. DiNozzo - I'm going to pretend that you and Ducky are in the office for professional reasons and gathering the leftovers of the President's dinner.
That's exactly what we're doing, Tony started. It's like you read my mind, boss.
Good, Gibbs said, opening the office door and finding Tony and Ducky bagging the food.
“Is there, ah, any particular reason that this is a such a great idea of mine?” Tony asked, looking up from the plate he was trying to fit into a bag too small for it.
“President ate dinner with the aviator,” Gibbs said. “If he was poisoned there's a risk that the President is too.”
Tony sobered instantly and focused on his job. Ducky exchanged a long look with Gibbs, laden with worry and concern.
* * * *
Abby's Lab
“Good news, Gibbs,” Abby said when he walked into her lab. “The food wasn't poisoned.”
“But Thwaite was,” Gibbs narrowed his eyes, taking in the piles of evidence Abby was sorting through.
“I know,” Abby said and Gibbs had the impression that she was rolling her eyes behind her blindfold. “But at least the President is safe, right?”
“Suppose it's something,” Gibbs admitted with a short nod. “Got anything else?”
“Nothing of any use,” Abby shook her head and went back to burrowing through Thwaite's clothes.
Bullpen
“So if the President's in the clear,” Tony said when Gibbs passed on Abby's information, “then why was Thwaite poisoned?”
“He carries the football,” Todd put forward. Her surprise at Gibbs inviting her to join them on the case still hung about her.
“It's a possibility,” Tony nodded. “But I don't know - my gut tells me there's more to it.”
“Does the President always eat with the football carrier?” Gibbs asked, something clicking in his mind.
“Nearly always,” Todd said. “He likes to get to know them.”
“Widely known?”
“I wouldn't say that - and certainly not outside of 29000.”
“What if someone did know?” Gibbs asked. “There's plenty of people that don't ask permission to pull things out of someone's mind.”
“It would put them pretty close to the President,” Tony said with an air of finality.
“Not possible - out vetting services -” Todd started by Gibbs held up a hand to stop her.
“We live in a world where a man flies around in a metal suit,” he said. “You're telling me all those electronic records can't be faked?”
“Two options then,” Tony said. “One: someone wants to get their hands on the football and bring about World War Three. Two: someone wants to get their hands on the President. Both end in lots of death.”
“Can you find out who's replacing Thwaite?” Gibbs asked Todd. “Think I should do some vetting of my own.”
Air Force One
Gibbs was impressed. The suspect was so tightly in character that he was even thinking like his cover. If Gibbs hadn't sifted through the man's mind when he was asleep even he might not have noticed. Gibbs waited for Lloyd to make a move, infuriating Todd with his casual approach, and ran the case over in his mind. When he made his report he knew there were a few things that would have to be glossed over, he'd bent his own personal rules to identify Lloyd, things that Morrow didn't need to here.
Todd was interesting - fiercely intelligent, a background in profiling, a strong grasp of how to use her powers and a fully trained secret service agent. She'd make a good addition to any team but her investigative instinct was what convinced Gibbs that she belonged on his team. Tony would complain, of course, like the older child when a new baby joins the family - but Gibbs could already tell that they would work well together.
“Gibbs - I can't -” Todd started at the same time as Gibbs stood up, noticing Lloyd's thought process changing. He was making his move.
“Let's go, Todd,” Gibbs said, moving quickly towards the President's office. Lloyd was working himself up to attack the President and it was from that alone that Gibbs knew he wasn't a terrorist, that this was personal and that Lloyd was probably insane.
Gibbs burst through the door of the President's office to find Lloyd attempting to menace the president with the knife he'd been cutting his steak with. Gibbs lifted a hand unconsciously and squeezed at the same time as he shut Lloyd's higher functions down. Lloyd dropped, much to the astonishment of the President, and Gibbs nodded to himself.
“Excuse me, Mr President,” Gibbs said, bending to pick up the knife as Todd entered the room
“No need, Agent Gibbs,” the President replied. “Not when you've just saved my life.”
* * * *
Todd joined Gibbs as he watched Lloyd loaded into a police van. He let her stand there quietly for as long as she could stand it before turning to her.
“You've got the mind of an investigator,” Gibbs said, looking down at her.
“I suppose you would know,” Todd said, rolling her eyes.
“Rule Number Five: Always Ask Permission When It Comes to People's Minds,” Gibbs said by way of reply. “Don't have to be a mind reader to know you've got what it takes.”
“Is there a point to this?” Todd asked, her directness refreshing. Gibbs smiled.
“You ever think of leaving the service, Todd,” Gibbs said, holding out a hand. “You look me up.”
“You just saved the President's life and you're making me job offer?” Todd asked, taking his hand and shaking it. “Shouldn't it be the other way round?”
“Done my share of fighting,” Gibbs shook his head. “The President knows that. I'm serious, though. You'd make a good investigator.”
“I'll think about it,” Todd said non-committally - but on the surface her mind was already turning the possibility over and liking it.
“Don't think too long,” Gibbs said, the wind on the airfield whipping away a laugh as he turned and walked to his car.
Prologue | Issue #1 | Issue #2 | Issue #3 | Issue #4 | Issue #5
Summary: When the US Government asks former employee Jamie Madrox, now head of a small detective agency, to recruit leaders for X-Factor teams to be based within NCIS (amongst others) he can think of only one man for the job: former Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~21,700 for GtBT
Pairing: N/A - Gen
Spoiler Warnings: Vague spoilers for Yankee White and Bete Noire.
Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Simple.
Notes: My thanks to hentzau for doing half of the spell checking. Any further mistakes are all down to me.
Getting the Band Together forms the first part of a much longer story that I will hopefully finish entirely over the next week or so. It can be read without the rest if you wish - but please come back and read the extra parts, there's some good stuff in there.
Panel One: Air Force One. Special Agent Caitlin Todd passes a man in Naval uniform holding a briefcase. She nods to him.
Panel Two: Same. Todd settles in a chair and takes out a book.
Panel Three: Same. Aviator clutches at his chest.
Panel Four: Same. Todd looks up curiously.
Panel Five: Same. Aviator falls to the floor. The impression of a seizure.
Panel Six. Same. Todd presses two fingers to the aviator's neck.
Todd: We have to land the plane, now. He's dead.
Getting the Band Together (Part II of V): Air Force One
“It's not a mutant case,” Gibbs said, hanging up on Morrow. “But we're the nearest team.”
“It might be nice,” Tony said with a lopsided shrug. “Doesn't always have to be about mutants.”
“You ready, Duck?” Gibbs asked, watching Ducky stuff a bag with supplies.
“As ready as I can hope to be, Jethro,” Ducky said, shaking his head. “Particularly when I've not been given much notice.”
The case in Kansas had been a quick one and Gibbs was thankful for that but the call from Morrow was unexpected. A Naval Aviator had dropped dead on Air Force One, forcing an immediate landing, and Gibbs' team were nearby.
“Boss,” Tony said as they climbed into the truck. “You know we're going to walk into a monumental pissing contest.”
“I know, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “You'll just have to make sure we win.”
“Me?” Tony started. “What am I supposed to do?”
“What you're good at,” Gibbs said with a slight smile. “Talk.”
* * * *
Gibbs didn't relax until he could feel the drone of the engines beneath his feet. Tony was moving from one end of the plane to the other, looking for anything suspicious, and Ducky was crouched beside the body of the aviator, looking for a cause of death. The pilot and co-pilot were shaken but focused on their duties. There was something else, though, something that didn't belong.
“Huh,” Gibbs said, finishing his mental catalogue. DiNozzo?
“Jethro?” Ducky looked up from the aviator.
“Something or nothing, Duck,” Gibbs said over Tony's answering Boss?
Someone moving about just along from you. I'm moving to intercept.
Want me to block the escape?
Read my mind, DiNozzo.
Gibbs made his way swiftly and silently down the corridors that connected the sections of the plane, gun held loosely by his side, and felt Tony moving into to position. The presence was female, that much he could tell at a glance, with the particular sharp angles of some kind of agent and the underlying worry of discovery that inhabited most mutant minds.
Gibbs pulled back, not wanting to alert the mutant, and eased himself into the section she was hiding in, the press section. Tony nodded to him from the door at the opposite end and gestured with his gun to a row of seats on Gibbs' right-hand side. Gibbs crossed the aisles and stopped two rows in front of the seats Tony had pointed out.
“I know you're there,” the woman said, standing up with a sigh. “I can feel it.”
She was short brunette with kind eyes and a set to her shoulders that spoke of her training. She held her hands out from her body, palms open, and stepped out from behind the seats.
“Who are you?” Gibbs asked as Tony came up behind her.
“Special Agent Kate Todd, secret service,” she replied, looking over her shoulder at Tony. “We're on the same side.”
“Any reason you're hiding?” Gibbs asked, nodding at Tony to put his gun away.
“I didn't trust him,” Todd said, nodding at Tony. “There was something shifty about him. I had a feeling you were going to - commandeer the plane.”
“Shifty?” Tony asked, his voice rising an octave. “I thought that my explanation was perfectly good.”
“Perfectly good nonsense, maybe,” Todd said, shaking her head. “And you were nervous.”
“I'll have you know I'm pretty good at concealing my emotions,” Tony said, hands on his hips looking almost comical as he faced down Todd.
“She's a mutant, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said quietly and Todd's head snapped in his direction.
“Low-level empath, but how did you -” Todd frowned, her brow creasing.
“Know?” Gibbs finished and tapped his head. Todd's shoulders slumped.
“How do you telepaths get everywhere?” she asked and Gibbs didn't bother to answer, knowing it was rhetorical.
“In Gibbs' case they get asked,” Tony said, pride in his voice and Gibbs had to cover his smile with his hand before Tony saw it. Todd shot him a quizzical look.
“NCIS: X-Factor liaison,” Gibbs said by way of explanation. “Are you the agent who got to him first?”
“Yes,” Todd said with a firm nod.
“That explains why you're here, then,” Gibbs said, nodding back.
Jethro? Ducky's voice came unexpectedly. I think I have a cause of death.
On my way, Ducky, Gibbs replied.
“Ducky has a cause of death,” he added out loud to Tony before turning on his heel, not waiting for Tony or Todd.
Gibbs had to admit, privately, that Todd had impressed him. The desire to stay and see the case through because she had been the one to declare the aviator dead showed she had instincts he could use. Going toe to toe with Tony was good too and God knew Gibbs needed someone else on the team to balance Tony's enthusiasm.
“Duck?” Gibbs avoided preamble when he arrived at the scene again.
“I think it might have been a heartattack,” Ducky said. “It's so unusual to see one in someone so young - I really need an autopsy to be certain - but perhaps Miss Sciuto would be able to look at his records for us and provide us with a history?”
“There's nothing more you can tell?” Gibbs asked and Ducky shook his head. “Zip him up then. You help, DiNozzo.”
“Yes, boss,” Tony nodded.
* * * *
Todd followed him through to the communication room and, with her grudging help, he managed to patch through to Abby in her lab.
“Gibbs!” she exclaimed with a smile. Her blindfold was bright red, a slash of scarlet across her face. “The Director told me you had a new case - is it really on Air Force One?”
“Yeah, Abby,” Gibbs said, an answering smile threatening to cross his mouth.
“That's so cool, I wish I was there,” Abby said, pouting for a moment. “I suppose you want to know about your victim?”
“He's not a victim yet, Abs.”
“With you it's only a matter of time, Gibbs. I can count the times we've had a case turn out not to be hinky on the fingers of one hand.”
“The aviator, Abby?”
“Sure! Okay - he's Lieutenant Commander Thwaite. Carries the football, which is cool.”
“Ducky wanted to know if he has any history of heart disease.”
“Clean as a whistle, Gibbs, passed his last physical with super high marks. Does that make things hinky?”
“Might just,” Gibbs said, suppressing another smile at Abby's enthusiasm. “He suffered a heartattack. We should be back soon and then we'll know for sure.”
“I want his clothes, Gibbs,” Abby said, pointing a pen at the screen, “and anything he might have come in contact with. Or ate.”
“I'll get DiNozzo to take care of it,” Gibbs said. “As soon as he and Ducky are done fooling around in the President's office.”
“Oooh - tell them to take a photo for me!” Abby said as Gibbs cut the link. “What?” he added when Todd's concern flooded over into him.
“Thwaite had dinner with the President,” Todd said. “If he ate something bad -”
“You contact the ground,” Gibbs said, heading swiftly for the door. “I'll get DiNozzo to bag the food.”
Todd nodded and turned back to the console. DiNozzo - I'm going to pretend that you and Ducky are in the office for professional reasons and gathering the leftovers of the President's dinner.
That's exactly what we're doing, Tony started. It's like you read my mind, boss.
Good, Gibbs said, opening the office door and finding Tony and Ducky bagging the food.
“Is there, ah, any particular reason that this is a such a great idea of mine?” Tony asked, looking up from the plate he was trying to fit into a bag too small for it.
“President ate dinner with the aviator,” Gibbs said. “If he was poisoned there's a risk that the President is too.”
Tony sobered instantly and focused on his job. Ducky exchanged a long look with Gibbs, laden with worry and concern.
* * * *
Abby's Lab
“Good news, Gibbs,” Abby said when he walked into her lab. “The food wasn't poisoned.”
“But Thwaite was,” Gibbs narrowed his eyes, taking in the piles of evidence Abby was sorting through.
“I know,” Abby said and Gibbs had the impression that she was rolling her eyes behind her blindfold. “But at least the President is safe, right?”
“Suppose it's something,” Gibbs admitted with a short nod. “Got anything else?”
“Nothing of any use,” Abby shook her head and went back to burrowing through Thwaite's clothes.
Bullpen
“So if the President's in the clear,” Tony said when Gibbs passed on Abby's information, “then why was Thwaite poisoned?”
“He carries the football,” Todd put forward. Her surprise at Gibbs inviting her to join them on the case still hung about her.
“It's a possibility,” Tony nodded. “But I don't know - my gut tells me there's more to it.”
“Does the President always eat with the football carrier?” Gibbs asked, something clicking in his mind.
“Nearly always,” Todd said. “He likes to get to know them.”
“Widely known?”
“I wouldn't say that - and certainly not outside of 29000.”
“What if someone did know?” Gibbs asked. “There's plenty of people that don't ask permission to pull things out of someone's mind.”
“It would put them pretty close to the President,” Tony said with an air of finality.
“Not possible - out vetting services -” Todd started by Gibbs held up a hand to stop her.
“We live in a world where a man flies around in a metal suit,” he said. “You're telling me all those electronic records can't be faked?”
“Two options then,” Tony said. “One: someone wants to get their hands on the football and bring about World War Three. Two: someone wants to get their hands on the President. Both end in lots of death.”
“Can you find out who's replacing Thwaite?” Gibbs asked Todd. “Think I should do some vetting of my own.”
Air Force One
Gibbs was impressed. The suspect was so tightly in character that he was even thinking like his cover. If Gibbs hadn't sifted through the man's mind when he was asleep even he might not have noticed. Gibbs waited for Lloyd to make a move, infuriating Todd with his casual approach, and ran the case over in his mind. When he made his report he knew there were a few things that would have to be glossed over, he'd bent his own personal rules to identify Lloyd, things that Morrow didn't need to here.
Todd was interesting - fiercely intelligent, a background in profiling, a strong grasp of how to use her powers and a fully trained secret service agent. She'd make a good addition to any team but her investigative instinct was what convinced Gibbs that she belonged on his team. Tony would complain, of course, like the older child when a new baby joins the family - but Gibbs could already tell that they would work well together.
“Gibbs - I can't -” Todd started at the same time as Gibbs stood up, noticing Lloyd's thought process changing. He was making his move.
“Let's go, Todd,” Gibbs said, moving quickly towards the President's office. Lloyd was working himself up to attack the President and it was from that alone that Gibbs knew he wasn't a terrorist, that this was personal and that Lloyd was probably insane.
Gibbs burst through the door of the President's office to find Lloyd attempting to menace the president with the knife he'd been cutting his steak with. Gibbs lifted a hand unconsciously and squeezed at the same time as he shut Lloyd's higher functions down. Lloyd dropped, much to the astonishment of the President, and Gibbs nodded to himself.
“Excuse me, Mr President,” Gibbs said, bending to pick up the knife as Todd entered the room
“No need, Agent Gibbs,” the President replied. “Not when you've just saved my life.”
* * * *
Todd joined Gibbs as he watched Lloyd loaded into a police van. He let her stand there quietly for as long as she could stand it before turning to her.
“You've got the mind of an investigator,” Gibbs said, looking down at her.
“I suppose you would know,” Todd said, rolling her eyes.
“Rule Number Five: Always Ask Permission When It Comes to People's Minds,” Gibbs said by way of reply. “Don't have to be a mind reader to know you've got what it takes.”
“Is there a point to this?” Todd asked, her directness refreshing. Gibbs smiled.
“You ever think of leaving the service, Todd,” Gibbs said, holding out a hand. “You look me up.”
“You just saved the President's life and you're making me job offer?” Todd asked, taking his hand and shaking it. “Shouldn't it be the other way round?”
“Done my share of fighting,” Gibbs shook his head. “The President knows that. I'm serious, though. You'd make a good investigator.”
“I'll think about it,” Todd said non-committally - but on the surface her mind was already turning the possibility over and liking it.
“Don't think too long,” Gibbs said, the wind on the airfield whipping away a laugh as he turned and walked to his car.
Prologue | Issue #1 | Issue #2 | Issue #3 | Issue #4 | Issue #5