Deception

[M-TAC, NCIS]

The large screencast a cold, blue light across the faces of Gibbs and Kate as they stood in front of the communications panel. Captain Martino had finally reached the NCIS HQ and was briefing the major crime response team.

"Agent Gibbs, Agent Todd," Captain Martino's voice was steady, but the underlying urgency was unmistakable. "We've stopped the nuclear fuel rod train as a precaution. It's currently secured, and we've got defence against small-arms fire. But you and I both know that if a heavy assault manages to detonate those rods, it'll irradiate the entire immediate area."

Unknown to the Gen Pop, a classified mission was happening right in the heart of Washington, D.C. A train containing nuclear fuel rods was being transported through the capital. The officer who oversaw the mission was Captain Martino, and Being under his command, Cmdr. Wilkerson was also part of the mission.

Gibbs leaned forward slightly, his icy blue eyes never leaving Martino's. "Who knows the train's route?"

"Only those with the train itself," Martino replied. "That includes the armed halo escort and my immediate staff. Commander Wilkerson put together the routes. She's one of the only people who knows every detail, and without her knowledge, the logistics are at risk."

Kate stepped in, her voice measured and calm, though her gaze was sharp. "Then why was Commander Wilkerson on liberty, Captain? If she was so essential to the operations, why wasn't she on duty?"

Martino's face tightened at the question, "She wasn't necessary for the current phase of the operation, Agent Todd. She specifically requested the day off, and I granted it."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, his internal radar now buzzing. "She requested the day off? At this critical juncture?"

Martino stiffened, clearly uncomfortable under Gibbs' scrutiny. "Commander Wilkerson is one of my finest officers, Gibbs. She's dedicated capable, and has more than proven herself. Whatever is going on with Cmdr. Wilkerson, it's not treason. I'd stake my career on it."

Gibbs let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze locked on Martino, reading every flicker of emotion, every subtle movement. His instinct was screaming at him that something didn't add up.

Kate exchanged a glance with Gibbs before addressing Martino again, her voice steady but probing. "Captain, with all due respect, we can't dismiss any possibilities. Commander Wilkerson being off duty on the day she was abducted raises too many red flags. We have to consider every angle."

Martino's face darkened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Are you suggesting, Agent Todd, that Commander Wilkerson is somehow involved in something nefarious? That she's willingly participating in something… that could affect the safety of the nation?"

Gibbs cut in, his voice low and sharp. "No one's suggesting anything—yet. But until we find Wilkerson, every possibility is on the table. This isn't personal, Captain. It's about finding the truth."

Martino exhaled sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I want to move the train back to its origin, reschedule the delivery of the rods. But if we do that, we risk getting hit on the way back. If someone's planning to attack, that'll be the perfect opportunity."

Gibbs leaned forward, his voice even more intense. "You move that train; you paint a target on your back. If this is part of some larger plan, you could be walking straight into an ambush."

Martino bristled, his voice rising with frustration. "And sitting here with a live train full of nuclear material is any better? What would you have me do, Gibbs—sit on it and hope you find Wilkerson in time?"

Kate interjected, her voice calm but firm. "Captain, the safest option is to keep the train secured where it is, under heavy guard. Moving it prematurely puts more lives at risk, including your crew's. We need time to figure this out."

Martino's jaw clenched as he considered their words. "You know, Gibbs, speaking of unpredictable risks, Alex Bishop being a part of your team. How's that working out? Still as much of a loose cannon as ever?"

"Bishop's one of the best operators I've ever worked with," Gibbs said in a neutral tone

Kate quickly added, her tone professional but with a subtle edge. "Whatever you may think of Alex, Captain, he's been an integral part of this investigation team."

Martino scoffed, unimpressed. "I've known Bishop for years. He's a wildcard, Gibbs. You really think you can rely on someone like him in a situation like this? When it comes to Bishop...it's never how it's seen on the surface; he always has a hidden motive."

"Alex's saved more lives than you'll ever know, he even saved my li..." It was Kate who responded, her tone a bit severe. 

"Captain, this isn't about personal history. Our priority is finding Commander Wilkerson and securing those fuel rods. We all want the same thing here."

Martino exhaled heavily, clearly realising he was pushing too hard. "Alright, I'll back off. But I'm telling you—Don't fully trust him."

"We will get Wilkerson back. And that train stays put until we do," said Gibbs

Martino locked eyes with Gibbs for a long, tense moment before finally nodding grudgingly. "Understood. But if things start to look bad, I'm pulling the trigger on that train. I can't afford to gamble."

"We won't let it come to that," Gibbs replied firmly. "You have my word."

[NCIS Forensic Lab]

While Gibbs and Kate were talking with Captain, Alex was listening in on them from the forensic Lab. Tony and Kate, after raiding through Wilkerson's home, were able to find her laptop, and currently, Abby was going through them to uncover any details that would lead to the disappearance/ abduction.

Ziva, Tony, Alex, and Abby crowded around the screen, staring at the laptop they had pulled from Commander Wilkerson's house. So far, their attempts to crack the encrypted files had been fruitless, and the frustration was starting to show.

Abby clicked furiously through another encryption algorithm, her fingers tapping aggressively against the keys. "She hasn't defragged this drive since she got it. It's a mess."

Alex leaned against the table, glancing at the screen. "Any progress?"

"Not unless you count a headache," Abby replied, with a sudden twist in her neck looking at Alex, her voice tight with frustration. Alex slowly backed off.

'Tactical retreat.'

Tony, lounging nearby with his arms crossed, looked ready to pounce on the next opportunity for distraction. And, as if on cue, the door to the lab swung open, and Timothy McGee walked in. The sight of him was enough to stop everyone in their tracks.

McGee had arrived in what could only be described as... a "professor's ensemble." A tweed jacket with elbow patches, a turtleneck, and, to top it all off—a pipe tucked into his pocket. It was as if he had stepped out of a literature seminar rather than an NCIS investigation.

Tony's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh... my... God," he began, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "McGee, what the hell are you wearing?"

McGee blinked, looking down at his outfit. "What? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Tony made a grand gesture toward him, his grin growing wider. "Everything! Look at you! You've got elbow pads, McGee! You look like you're about to teach a seminar on 18th-century poetry. 'Mr. Peabody, where's the Wayback Machine?'"

McGee rolled his eyes, already bracing himself for more. "Come on, can we just get to work?"

But Tony wasn't done. "A pipe, McGee? Really? I mean, are you gonna sit us all down and read Moby Dick? What's next? McSmokey, Are you secretly a professor of literary theory in your spare time?"

McGee sighed but remained composed. "You know It's not like that, Tony."

"Do you smoke pipe, McGee?" asked Ziva, genuinely curious.

"Oh no, Ziva. Our little McGee fancies himself a novelist. This is his writing pipe, as he calls it. Just picture it: McGee, sitting in a cabin, pipe in hand, typing away at his masterpiece. 'Ah yes, this will be my greatest work yet.'"

Ziva, grinning, chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "For what it's worth, I think your attire is quite sexy, McGee."

McGee blinked and smiled. "Thanks, Ziva."

Before Tony could jump on Ziva's comment, Abby slammed her hands down on the table, her voice sharp. "Alright, enough with the fashion critiques! We've got an abducted officer out there, and every minute we waste could be the difference between life and death!"

The room instantly went silent, the atmosphere evaporating as Abby's frustration cut through. Everyone straightened up, realising they had taken it a bit too far.

Tony cleared his throat, stepping closer to the laptop. "Okay, okay. What do we know so far?"

McGee, grateful for the subject change, walked over to the computer. "The files are encrypted, but I found something that might help." He tapped a few keys, pulling up an icon on the desktop. "Her electronic datebook."

Abby leaned in, peering at the screen. "Where? I don't see it."

McGee pointed at the screen, explaining. "It's an icon right in the centre of the desktop. I use the same program. Don't worry, Abby, it's easy to miss."

Ziva smirked, throwing McGee a teasing look. "Sometimes, it's hard to see the jungle through the ferns."

McGee focused on the datebook. "Looks like her last appointment listed was this morning. 8:30 a.m."

"Half an hour before she called NCIS," Tony noted. "Where was she?"

"Braddock Mall," McGee replied, his fingers tapping at the keyboard.

Tony leaned back, groaning. "A mall? Great. Just what we need—tracking down a missing officer in a giant shopping centre."

Just then, the lab doors swung open again, and Gibbs entered, followed closely by Kate. McGee straightened up immediately, standing at attention.

"Sorry, Boss for being late." McGee said, his voice sincere and apologetic. "It won't happen again."

Gibbs gave McGee one of his classic stern looks. "You're right, McGee. It won't."

Tony gave McGee a cheeky grin. "Lucky for us, McProfessor here managed to uncover Wilkerson's last known location. She was at Braddock Mall this morning before she called in."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, immediately shifting into action mode. "That's something. Tony, Kate—go question the personnel in Martino's squad associated with this mission. Find out if anyone saw or heard anything unusual about Wilkerson."

Tony snapped into action, his usual sarcasm replaced by professionalism. "You got it, Boss. You want us to pull punches, or go in swinging?"

"Don't pull any punches, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied, his voice firm. "We don't have time to play nice."

"Yes, Boss," Tony said, already making his way toward the door, Kate following close behind.

As they left, Gibbs turned to Ziva and Alex. "Ziva, Bishop—you're going to Braddock Mall. Find out if anyone saw her, check security footage, and see if we can trace her movements. "

Ziva nodded, already grabbing her gear. "Understood."

"We'll get it done."

As Alex and Ziva prepared to leave, McGee, still at the computer, continued tapping away. "I'll keep digging into the laptop and see if there's anything else we can use to track her movements."

<scene break>

Ziva drove like a lunatic, weaving in and out of traffic as the Dodge Charger roared down the city streets. The engine's growl reverberated through the car, and Alex, his face comically stoic, clutched the door handle, bracing himself for the next sharp turn. Ziva's driving was a force of nature—a mix of precision, aggression, and complete and utter disregard for traffic laws.

"Ziva," Alex said, his voice calm, gripping the door as she swerved past a delivery truck with barely an inch to spare, " I've lived through combat zones, but I didn't sign up to die in the front seat of this fucking car."

Ziva's eyes flicked toward him briefly, a smirk forming on her lips. "Alex, I thought you thrived on adrenaline and this would be a... familiar territory for you."

"Adrenaline, yes. Hurtling through civilian traffic at Mach speed? Not so much." Alex winced as Ziva took a hard right into the Braddock Mall parking lot, narrowly missing a pedestrian.

"You worry too much." Ziva's voice was playful, though there was a gleam of danger in her eyes. "Trust me, I have everything under control."

'That's a death flag, you loony toon.' thought Alex

 "Famous last words, Ziva. But usually 'under control' means keeping all four wheels on the ground."

[Braddock Mall Parking Lot]

Ziva hit the gas as they entered the parking lot, her eyes scanning for Commander Wilkerson's Jetta. "You think I'm reckless, but I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Uh-huh." Alex glanced at the speedometer as it ticked well over the limit, even when she entered the parking lot.

Ziva grinned, clearly enjoying herself. " Why are you always so uptight."

"Uptight?" Alex laughed, trying to keep his eyes on the parked cars zipping by. "Probably because This isn't driving. This is an action sequence in a movie. The only thing we're missing is the explosions."

"You never know," Ziva said with a wink. "There's still time for that."

Alex shook his head, grinning. "Oh, I believe you, Ziva."

They zipped through the rows of parked cars, Alex focusing on the vehicles as they passed. "We're looking for a Volkswagen Jetta, silver. License plate ending in 421."

"Got it," Ziva said, her eyes darting around with sharp focus.

.

"So," he began, his voice taking on a curious edge, "did you notice something odd at the office today?"

Ziva blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Odd? What do you mean?"

"You know," Alex said, "like maybe someone seeing someone?". Alex wanted to know if Ziva noticed something between Kate and Tony.

"I did, actually. Let me think...3 months back, right?"

'What is she talking about?'

"What are you talking about Ziva?"

"You started seeing someone like 3 months back, no?"

'Shit.'

 "What makes you say that?" he asked, trying to sound casual but inwardly kicking himself for not being more subtle.

Ziva's eyes flicked toward him briefly before returning to the road. "Your shirt."

"My shirt?" Alex echoed, confused.

"Yes, your shirt," Ziva said with a grin. "It matches your tie. It wasn't always like this with you. You mostly wore Neutral colours before, but now, it has... what's the phrase? Ah, yes. A woman's touch, yes?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, trying to stay vague. "A woman's touch, huh?"

Ziva nodded confidently. "Yes. And I assume that is also why you burned those phone numbers Abby gave you at the lab."

'I thought I was being careful not to give off any hints. I underestimated Ziva.'

"So... who's she?" asked Ziva with a cheeky grin.

Alex just noticed something, then. "There it is. Jetta, silver. License plate matches."

Ziva immediately focused on the task at hand, bringing the Charger to a sudden but precise stop in front of the Jetta. Alex exhaled, grateful for the distraction.

"This is not over," said Ziva as she got out. Alex pretended like he didn't hear that.

They both got out of the car, moving swiftly toward the vehicle. Alex reached the back first, his eyes scanning the trunk. "Let's check the trunk first," he suggested, though he already knew Commander Wilkerson wasn't inside.

Ziva knelt by the driver's door, expertly pulling out her lock-picking tools. "I'll get us inside. Keep an eye out."

Alex nodded, standing guard as Ziva worked on the lock. Her movements were quick and precise, and within moments, she had the door unlocked. She stood up, pulling it open with a slight grin of triumph.

"Easy," she said, gesturing for Alex to check the trunk.

Alex moved to the back of the car and opened the trunk, his eyes scanning the interior. "Empty. No signs of struggle, no personal belongings."

 "What about the inside?"

 "There's a camcorder," answered Ziva

 "A camcorder?"

Ziva picked it up, inspecting it closely. "Looks like it's been used recently. Let's see what's on it."

She hit the play button, and the small screen flickered to life. Commander Wilkerson appeared, sitting in this very parking garage. Her expression was calm but focused, as though she were about to embark on something dangerous but necessary.

"It's Sunday, January 14th, 2006 0833 hours. Location, the parking garage at Braddock Mall," Wilkerson's voice said through the camcorder's tinny speaker. "The agreed-upon meeting place with my target. He's promised money and a place to stay in exchange for my willing cooperation."

The message ended abruptly, and Alex's frown deepened. "That doesn't sound right."

"No, it doesn't," Ziva agreed, her brow furrowed. "'Willing cooperation'? That's... ."

"Trouble."

Alex replayed the video, his mind working through the possibilities. "She doesn't look scared. She looks like she's got an objective. Like she's in control."

"Maybe she was working an undercover angle," Ziva mused, folding her arms. "But if she was meeting with someone dangerous, why go alone?"

"Good question," Alex said, tucking the camcorder into his bag. "We need to get this to Gibbs. Something doesn't add up."

Ziva nodded, already moving back toward the Charger. "Let's go. Time's running out, and we need answers."

Just as they got back into the car, Alex heard a sound about a 100 yards away.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

'Polo.'