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Date Posted: 13:49:35 03/04/06 Sat
Author: Sylvia Mohr Bartlett
Subject: FWWATT Chapter 7 Section Three
In reply to: Sylvia Mohr Bartlett 's message, "FOR WHICH WE ARE TRULY THANKFUL Ch 7" on 13:01:08 03/04/06 Sat

FOR WHICH WE ARE TRULY THANKFUL

By Sylvia Bartlett Mohr

Chapter 7: Workin' My Way Back to You


Section Three: Investigations and Insights




Gibbs approached the Tomcat which still was on the flight deck. Several of the young air crew were gathered around observing curiously the odd looking female forensic specialist. Abby was clearly a nonconformist with her Goth leanings, but Leroy Gibbs knew her to be quite expert in her field.

The Special Agent looked over the Tomcat with well trained eyes. He regretted his emphasis earlier that the damage on the bird, and by implication, to the Commander, was only allegedly from unfriendly fire. There had been nothing friendly about this damage.
There were multiple 50 cal hits to the undercarriage of the plane. The shrapnel from some missile detonating close to the bird had damaged both the engine on that side and the Plexiglas canopy and metal skin before injuring the pilot inside.

There was enough damage to the flight surfaces which combined with that engine being out must have made the plane difficult for the pilot to control, yet Gibbs had already been made aware the injured man had snagged an okay three wire and taxied to position on the deck, shut the engine down and opened the canopy before he'd passed out. The Commander was a brave man and a fine aviator.

Leroy Gibbs just didn't like the fact he'd originally been asked out only to get forensic evidence to support the 'party line' of what had happened. The official stand on what had happened here was apparently quite true in this case. God, he hated the politics that made it a necessity to prove the rightness of what Rabb had had to do.

Gibbs slapped away the hands of an over eager young sailor and helped Abby clamor down from the plane's cockpit. "Any surprises?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. I'm surprised that the pilot isn't on Ducky's slab. He left a lot of his blood inside the cockpit and down the outside of this plane. What's the big deal about catching the three wire again?"

"It's the best wire you can snag," the ship's Cag said as he walked up to them. "For Rabb to achieve that on one engine with the seas we had two nights ago; well, I knew Rabb was good, but that was pretty amazing, especially once we saw how much blood he'd lost. The plane captain tells me you want the Tomcat taken down below to 'autopsy' the engine?"

"Yes." Abby nodded. "We need to do a post on the engine and this other damage. Can we hop to on that? I'd like to get her below before that weather catches us."

The man nodded. "My guys will get her below right away." He moved on to direct the crewman to hook the bird up to be towed to the elevator.

"So how is the pilot doing?" Abby asked Gibbs. "Did a doctor really try...?"

"Not here." The senior Agent said firmly. He noted the corpsman approaching them. "What have you got for me, son?"

"Doctor Reyes sent me with these faxes from a Doctor Mallard." Bateman handed him a folder.

"Thanks." Gibbs put the folder under his arm and waited while Abby collected her materials, evidence bags and jammed them in her backpack. "Come on, Abby, I'll show you the office we've been assigned. There's a safe for the evidence."

"Okay. Bye, Harrison."

"Check me out on the web, Abby." The young man said eagerly. "If you like what you hear, my e-mail contact is on the site."

Gibbs hiked an eyebrow as they walked toward the island. "Checking guys out on the web, now?" He sounded like an older brother.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "He's got an industrial band. His website has some of his music, Gibbs. Get a grip."

"Oh. Excuse me for caring." He threw a half grin towards her. He grew serious at once, after glancing around to be sure they were out of earshot. "To answer the earlier question, not only did a doctor administer drugs in an evident effort to make the Commander appear to be brain dead, but within that man's hearing he opened a bidding war for Rabb's organs."

"His hearing? You mean the poor guy heard? He was conscious?"

"Paralyzed, but quite aware. They tell me he can tell you what the guy was going to get for each of his major organs." Gibbs agreed grimly.

"Sick. God, that is too twisted. The doc probably used curare along with something to depress the CNS signs. That is gross. Did you get the Commander's statement yet?"

"No. He's fighting some sort of reaction to the curare."

"Curare is nasty stuff. You can be conscious and totally paralyzed. You die by asphyxiation."

"The Commander was on life support." Gibbs explained.

"Well, yeah. Those nice valuable organs would have been damaged without oxygen. Talk about the silence of the lambs. It would be like being placed on the sacrificial altar, but unable to do anything to prevent your own demise. Poor guy will probably need a rubber room for a while."

"I hope not. I need his statement."

"Great. So all he is to us is a case, just like all he was to this Mahlberg was a hothouse for organs. Are we much better than him at this point?"

"Abby, we aren't trying to hurt him. We just need information from him."

"I prefer dealing with corpses and things. Living people have feelings and those feelings can get hurt too easy." Abby shuddered at the thought. "I'll need a blood sample from the Commander to match to the blood in the cockpit."

"Somehow I don't think that will be a problem."

"I want to collect it myself."

"This isn't about wanting to see the 'poor guy', is it?"

"Gibbs, I am responsible for the chain of evidence." Abby pointed out.

"I'm sure the doctor will allow you to be present when he draws the blood, Abby. Don't gawk at the Commander though." Damn. Now he was feeling a bit protective towards the man in the bed in sick bay. "He's got enough to deal with recovering from all this."

"I'm a professional, Agent Gibbs." Abby snapped.

"You haven't seen him yet. He's too old for you, but he's a good looking man. I've seen the recruitment poster he did."

"He did a Navy recruitment poster?"

"And a TV commercial."

"Oh, so he's a celebrity to boot!" Abby grinned. A thought hit her. "Wait a minute. You've seen the recruitment poster? Does that mean you haven't actually seen him yet?"

"Are you trying to change the subject on me? If so, forget it. Anyway, our director tells me he had to be ordered to participate in the recruitment ad campaign. So I gather it isn't so much that he thinks he's a celebrity, as someone else thought he was good material for a recruitment blitz."

"So, he's a JAG, a pilot, an Academy grad and a hottie to boot? Awesome." Abby smiled just to get under her boss's skin.

"Yeah, but you're a professional, remember." Gibbs replied, evenly.

"Totally." She replied. "So you are readjusting your approach, aren't you?" She observed candidly.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on, boss. I can smell the gears burning. You automatically went down there initially in criminal investigator mode and made the mistake of acting like the Commander was a suspect instead of a victim here and now you are beginning to adjust the thought process to the facts of the case. There is no way that anyone asks to be a victim of something like this."

"I'm being psychoanalyzed by a Goth, now?"

"Hey, in my own way, I'm pretty intuitive. Besides, I'm filling in for Ducky seeing as the Commander didn't wind up on his slab. He would usually be the one to try and nudge your thinking if you are being too 'abrasive' as he puts it."

"And, is this on Duck's advice, or are you solo flying on this?" Gibbs tried to give the girl a look that would warn her she was exceeding the boundaries of her role, but she clearly wasn't letting him get away with it; as she seemed to be putting her impervious airhead mask on.

There were really only two members of his tight little group that were hard to keep in his usual line. Dr. Mallard and Abby were both labeled 'special handling' in a certain part of his mind. They just wouldn't toe the line he demanded of the others. Rebels both of them, each in their own way, but he had to work with the materials he had and both were too good not to allow them the needed leeway. They were integral parts of the team; they just refused to follow his usual rules. Sometimes with human beings, exceptions had to be made. He wasn't a gunny anymore and not all of the team would ask how high when he said jump. In some ways, life was simpler when he was still, first and foremost, a Marine.

He came back to her earlier question. "No. I haven't seen the Commander yet. I have two Admirals and a doctor keeping me from seeing him at this point. The doctor has complete autonomy in Sick Bay and I seem to have antagonized him so it may be a while."

"Maybe you should let me handle getting his statement. If you've ticked off two Admirals and a doctor already, you could wind up needing to call on the Marines for reinforcement…or back stroking back to the mainland."

"Ha! Ha! Very funny, Abby. I just need to adjust my approach."

"Said the pilot just before he had to eject and/or crash and burn." She crowed. "Stay tuned for the continuing saga of Investigator Gibbs strikes out."

"Not funny, Abby." Gibbs was beginning to have to rein in his temper.

"Really? I think I am friggin' hysterical right now."

"Is this some of that 'black Goth' humor?" He was definitely losing control of his forensic specialist.

"Hey, I resemble that remark. Okay, boss. I can see you are starting to boil so I'll ease up here. Just remember to show honor and respect for the people involved and you'll be okay."

"Thank you for channeling the Duck." Gibbs put an end to that line. "How long will you need to post the engine?"

"Well, I'll rope the mechanic specialists in, so it shouldn't take too long."

He opened the door to the office and they entered and took seats at the table and desk respectively. They had barely sat down when the phone on the desk rang.

"Gibbs?" He said as he snatched it up. "Put him through." He held a finger up to keep Abby quiet as the connection was made. "Hey, Ducky, I got your faxes. What's your update? Two were cremated? Damn. So you will be autopsying medical charts on them. What about the other one? Good. You were able to get a body on that one. How long? Okay. I have some stuff on Rabb to fax you. No. I haven't been able to interview him yet. He's still pretty sick from a reaction to the curare, so I'm dealing with some overprotective individuals. Okay. Protective individuals. Too late, Ducks. I already ticked one doctor off…yeah, and two Admirals. Are you taking a pool on this or just keeping score? I'll fax you the paperwork I have so far and you let me know what else you need – okay? Talk to you later." He hung up.

A well learned listener, Abby said. "So poor Ducky was only one for four, eh?"

Gibbs frowned. "One for three. Oh, you're including Rabb. Let's hope it stays one for four. Even a live 'ear' witness is better than another corpse."

"His condition is still pretty critical, isn't it?" Abby was suddenly extremely serious.

"I have no reason to assume the doctor is lying about that, Abby."

"Is it okay if I go get his blood, while he's still alive?" The younger woman had suddenly gone moody on him.

"I'll lead the way." Gibbs offered. "Let's lock up the evidence you've collected so far first." After they locked the evidence in the safe, Gibbs led the way down to Sick Bay. Abby was unusually quiet all the way down. He thought about asking her why she had suddenly turned so morose, but he realized asking a Goth chick why she was morose would be a bit of an oxymoron.

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  • FWWATT Chapter 7 Section Four -- Sylvia Mohr Bartlett, 13:59:10 03/04/06 Sat
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