Chapter Text
The next couple of years showed Tony just what it was like to work for a team lead who managed to take care of the people who worked under him, whilst still getting the job done. Now out from under Gibbs' shadow, and with Rick honestly appraising his new SFA's contribution to the team, even Vance had begun to revise his previous position on
DiNozzo’s abilities and work ethic. The first time the director praised him in the bullpen for a lead he'd found, and off a movie reference no less, Tony had nearly swallowed his tongue in shock, before managing a slightly garbled, "Thank you, sir."
Balboa and his team had worked with the MCRT on a few cases in that time. Leo Bartlett, the SFA who'd replaced Tony, was a stickler for not pushing the team to the point of exhaustion, then expecting them to keep going in an efficient manner. It was a lesson he'd learned the hand way as a SEAL, when his commander had been a real hard ass. He'd lost two team mates on that mission as a result, and he refused to sacrifice anyone else on the altar of a superior officer or team leader's ego. Having a determined Bartlett to play liaison between the two teams meant that Gibbs could stay on this high horse and continue to show his disdain for Tony and Rick. Neither agent minded that, nor really cared, as long as the interteam collaboration got the job done. Interestingly, the two teams were now in a competition for the highest solve rate both in the agency and the Feds in the DC metro area. However, despite Leo's best efforts, the MCRT lost out on conviction rates pretty consistently, thanks to the cowboy methods of his three team members, no matter his efforts to curb their tendencies.
One night, about five months after he took the SFA position, Leo invited Tony and Rick out for beers after work, to ask for any ideas they could give him on trying to rein in Gibbs and the rest of the team. Tony's advice was succinct, if a little disheartening. "You have to choose your battles, my friend," he responded, as he took a sip of his beer. "Then wallpaper the case to the high heaven with reports that can't be faulted, dot every I and cross every T on evidence and witness statements, and prep like your life depends on it for any court appearances as well."
"In other words, basically make the case stand alone as if I was the only one who worked on it, as far as paperwork and testimony is concerned?" Tony nodded in reply. "Good god, man. Just how many hours per week were you working before?”
Tony paused for a moment, doing all the maths in his head, then guesstimated, "Weeks we were off rotation? Probably fifty to sixty? But you're much better at making Gibbs do his own paperwork than I was. The weeks we had active cases, if I had to guess, I would say eighty to one hundred hours, maybe even more...I've had to take up hobbies since coming to work for Rick, so I didn't get bored," he finished on a humorous note.
"Ah, but your basketball skills are top notch again," Rick chimed in. "Now we can all really see why the scouts were after you to go pro," joked Rick, finishing with, "My kids love it when Uncle Tony gives them a coaching session.”
Leo looked at his fellow SFA with even more respect, "Wow, so what made you go into law enforcement instead?"
"A vicious Wolverine shattered my leg during a Final Four game. I rehabbed well enough for this sort of job, but the teams had moved on by then, and in a way, so had I. The irony is that after killing one career for me in college, that guy saved my life, nearly six years ago. He ended up a Navy pulmonologist and infectious disease doctor and he pulled me through the pneumonic plague. The greatest irony is, for movie buff me, his name is Dr Brad Pitt...no relation. He's been a good friend ever since. Still plays a mean game of hoops, as well."
Leo could only chuckle at Tommy's laconic description of being on the edge of death. Even in San Diego, the fact that an agent in DC had survived a genetically engineered version of the plague had been gossip fodder for a couple of weeks. He had just never known who the agent was before this. Shaking his head, he brought the discussion back to keeping the MCRT team in check, and what else he could be doing.
"Be upfront with the JAGs or the DAs about anything that's dodgy, and copy that report to Vance. It's not just for the CYA, but it’s the only way to create a paper trail that might end up saving yourself in an IA or Department of Defence Inspector General investigation. I was lucky to not end up in the middle of something ugly like that, partly because the previous director, Jenny Shephard, refused to follow through, and Vance initially disliked me enough to not trust what I was reporting. That, fortunately, is much better now."
"So why the hell did you stay with NCIS? Sounds terrible." Leo wasn't sure he'd have bothered.
"Eh, I'm a bit stubborn at times," Tony replied, as Rick snorted at the understatement. "But law enforcement is what I do, and where I'm meant to be. And I really feel I do my best work, in supporting our military and their families. I've had other offers over the years, but this seems to be where I fit best"
"Wow," was all Leo said after that, then took a long pull of the beer in front of him. He contemplated the fact that Tony would have done well on a SEAL team, with dedication like that. Then he joined with the genial bickering of the CRT pair, as they decided what appetisers to order with the next round of beer.
~~~●●●~~~
It took nearly two years for the MCRT team to erode enough that it finally imploded, and Rick's team had a ringside seat for the whole catastrophe. Despite his most determined efforts, Leo was still struggling to keep David and McGee colouring within the lines, given the amount of pushback given by Gibbs who wanted everything now, regardless of the means (while he was off for coffee again, for plausible deniability), and damn the consequences. In fact, the last time Leo had joined Rick and Tony for beers after work, the MCRT SFA had confided that he was considering retiring for the second time and finding a third career. But as he'd said,”I'm a SEAL for chrissakes, I've never rung out in my life. I just don't know how much longer I can do this before it all blows up in our faces. And I really don't want any of the crap that will inevitably follow to stick to me!"
Unfortunately, Leo's words seemed almost prophetic, in light of what happened next. The MCRT had been called out to a local talkback radio station, where Adam Gator, the radio host, and Walter Daniels, Navy Commander, had been getting set up to discuss the pros and cons of military spending overseas versus at home. Along with the sound technician, the two men had been shot on live radio, instantly making this a high profile case. Fortunately the deceased radio host had obsessively kept all the show related mail, along with recordings of the on and off-air calls he'd received. His widow had turned over this information with alacrity, leading them to the upmarket gated residential community of Royal Woods. It didn't, however, give them any clearer a location than that, leaving the MCRT with the unenviable job of having to go door to door at sixty or so houses, to hopefully obtain a voiceprint match to the threatening phone call Gator had received.
Ideally, with a community that large, and a four person team, they'd have split into two teams, with one agent going door to door while being discreetly kept in line of sight of his or her backup in an unmarked vehicle. Unfortunately, Gibbs got pulled into MTAC to run a time-critical mission just as they were getting ready to leave. The CRT was on stand down as they had been called to testify on one of their cases, so they were doing court prep, along with working cold cases, as they awaited the phone call from the District Attorney's office that they were up next.
Realising the MCRT was a man down, Rick offered to fill the empty slot himself or loan out one member of his team, but ever the cowboy, Gibbs was determined to keep the case to his team only and declined, rather tersely. Knowing the relatively limited skills David and McGee possessed when it came to undercover work (as opposed to Ziva's under the covers work with honey pot missions for Mossad), Tony wished Leo good luck and enjoined him to watch his back. The other SFA's look said it all; he knew he'd be bearing the lion's share of the work that day. Which is exactly what happened.
Leo was into his third hour of knocking on doors and spinning the line that he was retired military and new to the community, and thought he'd meet his new neighbours and find any other veterans who lived in the neighbourhood. It was a good strategy, given the leanings of the Military At Home group, the nutjobs behind the killings and potentially other domestic terrorising that might be in the works. McGee and David were providing backup from the agency sedan, monitoring the radio feed. They were supposed to move the car every few blocks, to at least keep line of sight on their SFA, but Leo hadn't seen the vehicle move as he'd turned onto the last few streets. He'd also not heard any response to his questions over the radio, as to their whereabouts. Mulling over whether to knock on the doors of the other three houses in the cul-de-sac, or returning to the car and knocking some heads together then delivering a Navy SEAL grade verbal reminder of how to conduct backup to the junior agents, the decision was taken out of Leo's hands, rather precipitously.
A massive explosion rocked the neighbourhood, coming from the garage of the next house he was due to stop at. Leo was flung backwards by the force of the explosion, and was thrown about twenty feet. He hit his head with great force on a brick mail box by the neighbour's driveway and immediately lost consciousness. Multiple calls from the neighbours to 9-1-1 activated a huge response from first responders, though not quickly enough to prevent one of the conspirators smuggling a second bomb out of the neighbourhood, before the scene was contained. Unfortunately, there were no cameras at the community gate house, so this would only be revealed, tragically, at a later time.
Outside of the Royal Woods neighbourhood, just beyond the range of radio communication with their senior field agent, McGee and David both startled and nearly spilled their coffees at the sound of the blast. The duo, tired of the tediousness of obtaining voice prints, had taken a leaf out of their boss's book and gone for coffee. They'd driven through at the nearby Starbucks, before pulling up under a shady tree to enjoy their drinks, planning to return to Royal Woods in ten or fifteen minutes, with hopefully their SFA none the wiser. After all, as Ziva had said, "Abby is getting a copy of all the recordings. It is a quiet neighbourhood and no-one will even know we were gone."
At the sound of the enormous blast, barely keeping hold of her coffee, Ziva mentally berated herself for being startled after her upbringing in Israel, and the loss of her baby sister to a bomb attack on a local market. McGee was more thrown than his colleague, exclaiming, "What was that?"
Ziva sarcastically replied, "They call that an explosion, McGee. We should probably return to our post and contact Leo. Preferably before someone realises we were not at our assigned station."
There were no more comments made, until they reached the entrance to Royal Woods and found themselves barely able to get through the gated entrance, before being passed by a plethora of fire trucks and ambulances. All heading to the same few streets that Leo had most recently been canvassing. They parked about two-and-a-half blocks from where they'd last had contact with their SFA, then exited the vehicle, clipping their badges to their belts and grabbing NCIS windbreakers and hats from the trunk. Then they set off towards the array of emergency vehicles, anxious to portray themselves as dedicated law enforcement agents, offering their help in any way possible, whilst also hoping to connect with Leo and put a good face on their delayed arrival back at the location.
The duo reported into the Metro PD sergeant running the scene, reporting their missing SFA, only to see the still-unconscious agent being loaded into the back of an ambulance, and then raced off, lights and sirens blaring. The NCIS pair stepped off to the side, trying to decide what to do next. Stay and provide assistance on scene or follow the ambulance to the hospital. It went without saying that neither agent wanted to be the one to call Gibbs. That decision had been taken out of their hands, unbeknownst to David and McGee. The paramedics had found Leo's credentials and radioed MPD dispatch to contact NCIS. Even if the man was off duty, as they assumed, his employer would be able to get hold of the next of kin easier than having the hospital staff track them down. Gibbs was still ensconced in MTAC when the call from emergency dispatch came to NCIS headquarters.
Vance appeared outside of the CRT's work area, though his words quickly got the attention of the entire bullpen. "Balboa, Leo Bartlett's on his way to GWU Trauma Centre by ambulance. It appears there was an explosion in the neighbourhood where the MCRT was following up on the Military at Home group. Get one of your team members down to the ER and then find out where McGee and David are and if they're injured. Cell circuits are jam packed right now, so I wasn't able to get hold of either one. I'm transferring this case to your team. Gibbs is out of the field for roughly the next twelve hours on this mission, and the MCRT's down another man. Keep me informed of Bartlett's condition and the whereabouts of the rest of the team." With that, the director turned on his heel and returned to his office, knowing he'd be fielding calls from SECNAV and from on the Hill, if this explosion ended up related to this case.
Rick immediately jumped into action, with Tony right by his side. The team lead sent Dave to GWU. He'd have preferred to send his second-in-command Tony, knowing Leo would appreciate seeing a friendly face in the ER, but needing his SFA's superior network of connections across Metro PD and the other federal agencies, to find not only their missing agents, but whether the explosion was related to the MAH case. A single look was all it took to direct Tony to start working his contacts. The quiet, "On it, Rick," was all the confirmation he needed. Knowing that Abby had live monitoring abilities from the radio set up for the undercover operation, Josh the probie(as he would always be known despite his advancement to junior agent ranking) was sent down to the Forensics lab to begin reviewing what the recordings might reveal.
When Dave arrived at the GWU ER entrance and saw the black agency sedan parked haphazardly, barely out of the path of incoming ambulances, he just knew the excrement was about to hit the oscillating device. Knowing how intimidating David would likely try to be when she inevitably found herself on the back foot, the agent went with discretion being the best form of valour, over getting up close and personal with a lethal paperclip.
Pulling out his phone, as he stood by the abandoned vehicle, he called his team lead, who answered on the first ring. "Rick, McGee and David must be here.Their car is basically abandoned and barely out of the way of ambulance traffic. Keys are still in the ignition and all."
Rick muttered dire imprecations under his breath for a moment before responding, "Well, we know chain of evidence is now shot all to hell if they recorded anything of significance. But let's pretend we still care about things like that. I need you to stay with the vehicle. Move it out of danger if you have to, but I'll get the flat bed over to you to pick the car up. I'm heading your way in a few minutes." Consulting his watch and mentally calculating the commute time, he continued, "Should be there within twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes. Tony's still working his contacts,
So I'll have the director call GWU and find out how Leo is doing. Just stay put until I get there," Hearing on affirmative from this agent, he conveyed the plan to DiNozzo mostly by sign language given the SFA was simultaneously holding an in-depth conversation with someone on the Metro PD Bomb Squad, if he could make a guess from hearing only one side of the conversation. He flew up the stairs to give Vance a sitrep and was out of the building only five minutes later.
Vance made the call to GWU posthaste and soon determined that Agent Leo Bartlett was being admitted to the neuro unit after he got an MRI, given his history of head trauma. He had yet to regain consciousness, but his vital signs were stable, which was something at least. Leon descended the stairs to the bullpen and walked over to Tony's desk, anxious to both give and receive an update. Long gone were the days when he considered DiNozzo a substandard agent. The SFA had blossomed when freed from Gibbs' authoritarian leadership, and Vance had gotten the chance to see Tony pull off some incredible case solves with his out of the box thinking.
"What do you know?" Vance asked as Tony hung up the phone, having finished talking with his contact.
"Metro Bomb Squad are looking at an accidental detonation. They're not sure if it's human error or faulty equipment. The owner and his daughter both were killed in the explosion. They're sifting through the remains of the house, but they've found some paperwork that suggests the MAH group had purchased at least two more bombs. They're thinking they kept them in separate places to increase security."
"Damn,” Vance exclaimed, "We need that like a hole in the head."
"Yeah, you can say that again. Bomb Squad lieutenant is afraid that the rest of these dirtbags will be all too eager to get rid of the evidence and may randomly detonate them anywhere within the District, particularly if it looks like they might be caught. He grew up in Northern Ireland and knows just what domestic terrorists are capable of."
Forget office appropriate language, Leon could only replay, "Fuck!!!" to that price of insight. Gathering himself quickly, he gave Tony a quick update on Leo Bartlett's condition, before adding, "I'll get hold of Morrow at Homeland Security and the FBI director. This needs to be handled by a task force."
Tony nodded in agreement, glad the man was going to avoid a power play over this situation. Reaching the mezzanine level above the bullpen, Vance called out."Good work, DiNozzo. Keep working those contacts. Let's do everything we can to avoid further bombings, particularly if they choose to target innocent victims." Tony raised a hand in acknowledgement, grabbed up his phone once more as Vance disappeared round the corner, and into his office.
~~~●●●~~~
Rick arrived at GWU slightly under the twenty minute ETA, though Dave resisted the urge to comment that his boss must have joined the Air Force given he had to have been doing some low flying on the way. Checking the interior of the MCRT’s vehicle to assess whether all the equipment was in working order, the pair were shocked to find the volume turned down on the radio used to monitor and communicate with their SFA. One quick phone call to
Josh, who was riding herd on Abby in the lab, to ensure she didn't get too distracted by the seriousness of the situation and roll over into catastrophising, determined that, at the time of the explosion, neither McGee or David's cell phones pinged on the tower that covered most of the community. The two empty coffee cups that seemed to have been unthinkingly tossed into the back seat bore witness to the fact that the pair were off station. The closest Starbucks to the Royal Woods neighborhood was over a mile away, which coincidentally matched up with the cell tower over that location and not the gated community where the two agents were supposed to be. Josh, a short while later, printouts of all the relevant documents in hand, returned to the bullpen when Abby went to the evidence garage, to trawl through the essentially abandoned agency sedan.
Tony was multitasking at his desk when the junior agent returned to his workstation. He was, by the sounds of things, finishing up a call, while texting another of his contacts over at Homeland security.
Josh chuckled when he heard Tony say, "That's all I have for now, keep me in the loop,Toby."
Always poking the bear, the junior agent mused, only to hear Tobias Fornell reply, “Only because they ordered me to, DiNutso!" Their ribbing had the quality of the squabbles of an old married couple. Not that Josh felt it would be in his best interest to point this out. He rather loved his job and had no desire to lose it. Nor did he want the inevitable recap of ‘The Odd Couple' if he was crazy enough to mention the idea to his senior field agent.
"What's the word, Tony?" Josh asked as he settled into his chair and spread out the cell tower information he'd gotten from Abby.
"Homeland is looking hard at a South African bombmaker. The fact that it seems they needed to keep the bomb chilled in a freezer fits with the signature of this guy, but they're not sure he's even in the country right now. The FBI is working on local threat assessments, just in case there's more bombs, and they decide to use them. They've been given the lead on this case, by the way. Attorney-General's call." Not having worked on a case this big before, at least in relation to the number of agencies likely to become drafted into the investigation, the younger agent asked who else would likely be brought on board.
"ATF is backing up Metro Bomb Squad and the FBI at the scene. Those are the only other new agencies on site so far, but expect that to change. With as many high ranking people who have Secret Service protection in this town, I wouldn't be surprised to find them tag-teaming with the FBI on refining that threat assessment. Too many high profile events around DC that would be prime targets. The Department of Defense has also ordered elevated threat levels for all military installations in the area. It just depends on what MAH's beef really is, and if they've been scared off of acting further by this explosion. Sometimes, it'll just spur these nutjobs on even more. A lot of them like seeing their handiwork on the news."
Josh considered Tony's words for a moment or two. "So basically, what you're telling me is that what might happen next is a bit of a crapshoot?"
"Yup," Tony replied, glad to see the younger agent was accepting this news with relative equanimity. The last thing anyone needed was an investigator racing around and crying out, "The sky is falling." Tony knew both Josh and Dave had great potential to gain promotions and rise within the agency. It was just a shame that it would probably mean that they'd eventually leave the CRT to do so. The team ran like a well-oiled machine, something both Rick and Tony had strived to achieve. Mentally switching back to the case at hand, Tony asked Josh to go hunting for any traffic or security cameras that might show traffic leaving Royal Woods, then get a warrant for the feed. It would probably be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but sometimes those small details gave the perps away. His phone rang then, it was Rick with an update from the hospital.
"Leo has a subdural haematoma. They've moved him to ICU and are monitoring the pressures but want to avoid surgery if possible. He's still unconscious but the doctors are hopeful he'll make a full recovery. It just may take a bit of time."
"And David and McGee? What's up with them?" Tony asked, wanting to make sure they didn't skate on not backing up their SFA.
"IA just showed up and took them into custody. It seems Director Vance sent them over. I have a feeling Leon's going to play hardball over this one, especially if there are any more bombs going off." Rick's tone indicated he was backing the director one hundred percent on this.
"I'm just glad it's being dealt with properly. With those two, you never know, between Eli’s influence and McGee's aspirations. Not looking forward to telling Gibbs what's happened though." Tony had no desire to have front-row seats on a Gibbs rampage or to be the one who set it all off by breaking the news.
"Not to worry, my friend. I'm headed back to the Yard. Dave's going to keep Leo company for now, and Leon assured me that the op in MTAC has at least eight more hours to run." Rick knew Tony's history all too well, and had no intention of putting his friend on the spot for dealing with Gibbs. In fact, he and the director planned on pulling Gibbs straight into Vance's office when the op was over and breaking the news there. He'd had the feeling for a while that Vance's patience with the irascible MCRT leader was wearing very thin. It was nice to finally see some accountability for the MCRT members, and he’d happily back the director to the hilt if it meant the MCRT would start having to colour between the lines, like the rest of them.
In the end, the case was essentially closed before Gibbs ever had the chance to poke his badly-barbered head out of MTAC. As Tony commented later, "This case might have started with a bang, but ended in a whimper."
The FBI agents tasked with notifying the next of kin of Arther Haskell, the dead would-be bomber, and his fourteen year old daughter, Charlotte, knocked on the door of Arthur's brother, Howard. The man didn't have a lot of time for his brother and his political leanings, but he had adored his niece, and was more than ready to name names to the investigators. Howard had been shanghaied to attend an early MAH meeting and was happy to pass on what he knew. The FBI subsequently found two more bombs and one of the ringleaders in possession of a device, who agreed to talk, dropping his co-conspirators in hot water in order to secure a reduced prison sentence then Witness Protection thereafter.
It would take a while to wrap up all the loose ends, but it was all over bar the shouting. Which Gibbs was quick to provide when he emerged in the wee hours of the morning and was led straight into Vance's office. To say that he was livid to find his SFA was in the ICU, while McGee and David were in the hands of Internal Affairs, and the case essentially solved, would be putting things mildly.
When all was finally said and done, six people won themselves long prison sentences for being part of the MAH conspiracy. McGee was severely reprimanded for his dereliction of duty, marked ineligible for promotion for five years and shipped off to the Cold Case Unit back at Norfolk. Being still on probation as an actual NCIS agent, David was sent back to retake FLETC, with the warning she would be reassigned away from NCIS Headquarters on her completion of the course. Unwilling to be 'demeaned' in such a fashion, she resigned and disappeared from view. Tony and Rick thought it likely she'd been picked up by the CIA, to undertake black ops.
As for Gibbs, his latest temper tantrum in Vance's office rather sealed his doom, when he refused another round of counselling for his behaviour. He instead chose retirement, and last anybody heard, he was still building boats in his basement and drinking entirely too much bourbon. That just left Leo as the sole member of the MCRT when the dust settled. It took two months of medical leave, but he then returned to work,cleared for duty. In the meantime, Vance had offered the Team Lead on the MCRT to both Rick and Tony.
Rick's response had been,"I already have plenty on my plate and a team I enjoy working with. No thanks, Leon." Tony's response was similar though in his own inimitable style, as he answered, "That would be like breaking up the Untouchables," referring to the FBI team responsible for capturing Al Capone, and there really wasn't much Vance could say to that. He ended up bringing in the highly experienced Supervisory Agent Kendra Russell from the Southeastern Field office. Vance's aim was, over the next few years, to bring Leo's experience up to the point he could take over the MCRT, while Russell would be promoted to a reinstated Special Agent In Charge (SAIC) position over all the DC area field teams. He was adamant that there would never be a rise of a new Gibbs, with the added oversight and accountability.
Three months later, Leo joined Rick and Tony after work at their favourite watering hole. The discussion turned to the career path that Vance had mapped out for the MCRT Senior Field Agent. He finally got the chance to ask the question that had been bugging him since he'd returned from medical leave and had learned of the major team restructuring underway.
"So Tony, are you sure you're not ticked that Vance is working towards me taking over the MCRT in a couple of years. After all, you're worked on that team, and for more years than I've been with NCIS. I consider you to be a really good friend and don't want to step on any toes, or stand in your way."
"Nah, it's all good, my friend. I was Acting team head when Gibbs took his margarita safari under our previous director. Now, I know Vance is more of a straight shooter, but honestly, the workings of the MCRT are a lot more politically driven than I like, particularly if I'm the one running the team. Truth be told, I'm thrilled to be not only working for my best friend, but also getting the chance to have a life. With my lung issues, being able to eat well, work out and run, and have a better handle on all the work-related stress? It means I can believe I've got a career I can work at until they force me to retire. In truth, if I’d stayed working on the MCRT, under Gibbs...I'm not sure there would have been any chance of me doing that."
Rick clapped his good friend on the back, clearly agreeing with Tony's assessment. He managed to resist the urge to tease his friend about his upcoming first date with Dana from the Y, then raised his glass, "To long and fruitful careers – for us all."
Ever incorrigible and never one to pass up the chance to pop in an apropos movie quote, Tony couldn't resist his response."And God bless us every one!"
The three agents cracked up as they clinked their glasses to seal the toast. They were all working where they were meant to be, and Ducky, seated in a quiet corner, waiting to meet Tom Morrow for a few drinks and dinner, raised his own glass in response, quietly intoning, "Indeed, gentlemen, indeed!"
Fin