All of the usual notes; I own none of the characters, this is a work of fanfiction and in no way is attempting to infringe on or profit from any copyrights or ownership of either Harry Potter or NCIS. I own nothing related to this story.
I don't know if they still do it or not, but a long time ago, the Military would send MPs (Army) and SP (Navy) out to popular hangouts for off duty military personnel, both to handle any incidents as well as to handle incidents in house. Always of mixed popularity with local law enforcement, these patrols where both blessed by some as an easement on local resources, and cursed as interfering with the legal process by others, and often accused, with varying degrees of accuracy (depending on political climate), of covering up crimes to protect the military. Ultimately, one of the biggest problems was what happened when said patrols encountered a crime being committed by civilians on civilians as in those circumstances, unless they were on a military base at the time, the military police have no jurisdiction. The military is in fact, bound by law that says they may not be used against civilians in the US.
However, for the purpose of this story, I'm going to just say that in DC at least, the practice continues. If nothing else, it is a Federal District, and the rules might be different. I'm not even sure how many of the later chapters will use this, maybe none, it might be a major factor, depends on how the story develops, so just go with it for now.
I'm writing this story now, because every time I go to write another chapter of 'When Mercy meets Percy' I end up coming up blank. My muse is screaming Harry Potter, NCIS, Dexter and Battlestar Galactica. So, in an effort to get one of the stories percolating in the back of my head and interfering with writing my other story out so I can go back to my first story, I decided to write this out. And send me a smiley if that sentence made any sense whatsoever.
By the way, this story takes place before Director David or Director Vance's wife is killed. Thought you should know.
What a Mess
Gibbs woke with a start. He was in his basement working on a couple of chairs when he fell asleep as usual, it might very well have been a year since he last slept in his bed. It took him several moments to figure out what woke him up, but the ringing of his phone was incessant. Finally he located his phone; "This is Gibbs."
"Hey boss, got a messy one down in the club district." DiNozzo said from the other end. "Claire just called, her sister was just in a car wreck and she can't respond, she said she'd take the next two weekends from us if we can take this case for her."
Gibbs looked at his watch, 01:45 hours; "If you've got the address, call the others, you get to explain to them why their weekend is cancelled."
"Not a problem boss, Army MPs and local PD already have a suspect so it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but the Army CID agent who called it in to us told Claire that the suspect and most of the victims where British sailors, so we can expect people to be looking over our shoulders on this one!" With that, Tony quickly hung up the phone.
"TONY! God damn it!" Gibbs looked at his phone and just sighed. He decided to make sure that Ducky got called; he should still be awake at this hour.
When Gibbs pulled up to the crime scene, he noted that the ME van was already there, flashing his badge to the PD, he drove inside the perimeter and got out of his car, Ziva David pulling in right behind him. "Good morning Ziva."
"Uhg. Why are we working this weekend? I thought it was Claire Bennett's team's turn."
"Family emergencies wait for no one Ziva, go help McGee with witness statements." He told her noting some activity off to the side, "I have a feeling based on their level of intoxication they'll respond better to a female than to McGee."
"That would explain why Tony is taking pictures then. And I have a feeling Gibbs that they will respond better to my accent than to me being a woman. They are all British sailors, not American."
As Ziva walked off, a man in a Army uniform walked up to him. "Morning Agent Gibbs, did she really just imply that all British sailors are gay?"
"I don't think that's what she intended, I'm pretty sure she meant that they'd think better of her clearly not being American, but… …yes, that's what she just said, she still has some difficulty with syntax. So Major Thompson, what's Army CID involvement here?" Gibbs asked as they both walked to the ally where the bodies could be found.
"Are you kidding? Besides it being a major international incident, and I do mean major, not really that much, a MP patrol was working with local PD patrolling the bars for soldiers and sailors on leave acting stupid, Army's turn this weekend. They were responding to a disturbance when a local drunk came running up to them claiming a sailor just killed a bunch of people. They called it in and responded, and sure enough, the drunk wasn't lying. They found a British sailor straddling a civilian and bashing his head open with a loose brick. Five dead British sailors and one dead civilian. The Brit claimed two civilians killed his friends, the other one having got away."
Turning the corner before he could respond, Gibbs looked over a bizarre crime scene. Ducky and Palmer where examining the bodies while Tony was taking pictures and gathering evidence. "Ducky?"
"Oh hello Jethro, so good of you to stop by." Ducky said standing up with a huff. "Just once I would like to go one week without the local sociopaths ruining my day. Or night as the case may be."
"Ya done Duck?" Gibbs said pointing at the bodies.
"As much as can be at this location. These four where stabbed repeatedly, from all appearances, by each other. That sailor I have no idea what caused him to die, and the civilian, well, it's pretty obvious what the likely cause of death was."
Looking down on the strangely dressed body; "I'm going go out on a limb here and say 'Blunt Force Trauma' to the head. So one of those injuries killed him?"
"Actually Agent Gibbs, he was already dead when those injuries occurred." Palmer said looking up, seeing the looks Gibbs and Dr. Mallard where giving him, he looked back down immediately.
"Yes, well, my assistants penchant for enthusiasm for people being murdered notwithstanding, he is correct. Those blows occurred postmortem, though in all likelihood, a similar blow is what killed him and the killer simply kept repeating the blow, looks like twenty to thirty times. But we won't know that, or if that's the actual cause of death until we get him back. I assume since all these sailors are British, that we can expect some complications from people who aren't qualified overseeing our investigation."
Major Thompson looked at them; "That fits the story of the MPs. They said that the Brit kept hitting the guy, even after they arrived with guns drawn and ready to shot. By the way, just got word, their Captain has been informed and is on route to your facility now. Shore Patrol showed up a bit ago, you want me to have them bring all the witnesses to NCIS headquarters, keep 'em at the local station, or release them to their ship or duty station? The only ones I know of that saw anything was the drunk and the 2 MPs, but that doesn't mean the rest don't know anything. There are however, over fifty British sailors here right now though, plus the ones on the ship who might've heard something, so you might want to think before collecting them all at your office."
Gibbs hesitated for a moment; "Have anyone who was actually with them brought to NCIS headquarters. I'll call General Kaimen and ask about getting an empty barracks building set up for the rest. We are NOT releasing them to their ship. Not after the last time we dealt with an investigation on one of Brittan's ships. Can't do anything about the sailors already aboard, other than ask for them to be turned over, but the ones ashore are being held. By the way, what happened to the perp?"
"Police custody right now, being treated for minor injuries by the paramedics. After that I assume you'll want the good Petty Officer Dorian Gray at the Naval Yard?"
"I know, I almost feel sorry for the guy. It'd be like 'The Boy named Sue' for anyone who's actually read the books. Evidently he fights like 'Sue' too. I'll go let everyone know what you said to do and let you go deal with the politicians." With that, Major Thompson turned around and walked away.
Turning around to look at Tony; "So Tony, shouldn't be that big of a deal huh. Other than the dead bodies, anything noteworthy?"
"Besides the expected knives and the fact that this man is wearing a nightgown, not really. The cross-dressing civilian did have several strange objects on him," Tony said holding up a bag with several objects in it. "He was also holding a stick in what was quite literally a death grip like it was a weapon, maybe Abbey can get something off it?"
"When you get everything, help Ducky and Palmer with the bodies, I'm going to go collect Ziva and McGee and start the interview process, which thanks to your simply case, is going to take a while."
Several hours later at the Navy Yard, Gibbs was looking thru a one-way mirror at a rather large man, mid-twenties, with sever bruising on his neck. Standing in at six feet six inches, or just a hair under two meters by British measurements (one point nine eight to be exact). He was also large in a muscular build sort of way too, and it was quite clear he was as every bit as strong has he looked when, in an effort to get more comfortable, he casually snapped the zip tie holding his wrists.
Other than that display, he'd actually been fairly calm. A little angry maybe, and obviously frustrated, but surprisingly calm. Gibbs looked at the other occupants of the observation room, besides the usual techs manning the recording equipment, Tony, Ziva and Tim where here as well, McGee sitting at a desk with a laptop, but also present was his boss, Director Vance, as well as two British officers. One, an attaché from the embassy, Lieutenant Aisent and Captain Eric Lockhart, Petty Officer Gray's commanding officer. "So, Captain, anything you care to share with us about him before I go in there?"
"Don't attempt to get in a boxing match with him. He's the ship champ, and has won several Fleet wide tourneys. Several people have tried to get him to go out for the Olympics, or professional, but he's always waved them off. Other than that, he normally works to blend in as much as his body allows. Combined with the utter and complete lack of any record of him before he turned seventeen, most of us assume he's either an agent of some sort, or he's been placed in hiding."
Captain Lockhart paused in thought for several seconds before continuing; "Don't mention his Father, that's something of a hot button issue with him. A couple of weeks before we deployed, he'd moved his mother onto base housing. Not normally allowed, but he got the base Chaplin to convince Admiral Hue to allow it since his father got out of prison and was making threats on his Mom. Several days later, Mr. Gray managed to talk his way onto base and physically assaulted his ex-wife. When Petty Officer Gray got there, security was dragging his dad out while medics where examining his mom. He quite casually walked over to his dad, and before security could stop him, he broke both of his father's legs, tossed the two guards aside and dragged his father to the ambulance and tossed him in telling him in the process, that quote 'If I ever see you again, I'll rip off one of your arms and use it as a club to beat you to death.' Needless to say, security detained him after that, but he received only a light reprimand and a little extra duty for a while owing to the circumstances and since Admiral Hue has a thing about people abusing women."
Gibbs looked at the Captain; "So you're saying he's got a temper!"
"Generally no, that was one of the few times anyone's seen him actually aggressively mad, I'd call it a hot button rather than a temper. I thought perhaps that he and his mom might have testified at his dad's trial, which they did, but on looking into it, his father's record starts at the exact same time so whatever they're hiding from, if indeed they're hiding, is something else."
"Let's see, he's been investigated a couple of times on suspicion of using steroids, but every time he's come up clean of anything illegal. Mostly we wave it off as sour grapes over losing a match to him, but there's been a time or two where he's displayed a level of strength which seems a little too much, even for him that have made me wonder. But like I said, he always comes up clean of illegal stuff. The doctors have noted unusually high levels of traces of poison, not the least of which is Wolves bane. Nothing that can give you any sort of high or enhancement, but enough where he should be having some health issues. When asked, he just say's his past may eventually catch up to him and someone may eventually get him."
"Other than that, I've only spoken with him a couple of times for anything other than normal command issues. He honestly doesn't cause that much trouble all things considered, and what trouble he does cause seems with his tendency to step in when someone tries to bully someone else. I once asked him if ever considered joining S.A.S.? He told me he didn't have what it took. He said he'd seen the face of true evil and faltered, and that he'd seen the true face of courage and heroism on someone else and he didn't think he'd ever be able to live up to that ideal. Yet more grist for the scuttlebutt from someone who has far too much."
Vance looks at Gibbs; "So Agent Gibbs, how do want us to handle this one?"
"We? You're not going in there director."
"And since when do you have the authority to stop me?"
"Director, think for a second about what will happen if he goes off. If you get injured, I'll have to take over as acting director again. I don't think either one of us wants that. So please, for the sake of the agency, stay in here."
"Ah, you make a good point Gibbs, I really don't want you in charge here again. You planning on going in there alone then?"
"I'll go in with him." Lieutenant Aisent spoke up; "I am his legal counsel after all."
"Of course you are. Come on"
When they entered the interrogation room, P.O. Gray immediately went to attention. Not liking him looming over him and finding him somewhat of a more hulking brute than he appeared sitting down, Gibbs immediately told him to take a seat. As he took a seat he looked at Gibbs and Aisent; "Before we begin sirs, my mates, did any of them survive?"
"I'm Lieutenant Aisent, I'll be your counsel. This is Special Agent Gibbs, an American from their Naval Criminal Investigative Service. We need to know what happened son."
"I already told the Bobby's at the site sir, my mates and me where leaving the bar and heading back to the ship when we heard whispering from the alley. Without even hesitating, Hassan and Sands just turned into the alley. Dietz tried to stop them but they brushed him off and just walked into the alley. We all walked in trying to talk sense into them but they were ignoring us all. Once we were fully in, suddenly everyone stopped talking and started pulling out knives, knives I didn't even know they had. Large knives too, not the type you could conceal without some serious effort, not to mention keep hidden from random inspections. I looked around starting to panic when I noticed this blonde lady standing there holding a stick and pointing it at us."
"Then suddenly, this scrawny guy appears out of the shadow and grabs me and lifts me up by the neck. He just lifts me up sir. I'm not braced against the wall, just dangling in midair. I'm a pretty fit guy sir, and I'll admit to being somewhat stronger than I look, but it'd be hard for me to do that to either of you, and I doubt I'd be able to do it to someone my own size. Hell, center of gravity alone should have made it impossible sir, and he wasn't anywhere near my size. But there I was, being held there in midair by Scarface while his girlfriend cackled in the background and my friends died. Scarface just stood there grinning, his fucked up teeth showing through his smile. When he started to talk, it took me a second to understand him. He was telling me that I was going to serve as a messenger back to England and the Ministry; that 'We' are still out here and 'We'll' retake what is ours."
"I tried hitting him several times, but punching him seemed to hurt my fist more than it hurt him sir. Flailing around some, I managed to reach a brick that was on top of a nearby dumpster and without thinking about it, I hit him with it. He was knocked silly a little, I notice the lady point something at me, so I grab the scarface and use him like a shield and charge her. There's a flash of green light and he gives a brief cry of pain and then we hit the wall, the lady nowhere in sight. I throw him to the ground and start hitting him with the brick."
"I'm so angry, I don't stop hitting him until there's a flash of light in my eyes. Thinking that the lady has returned, I glance up and see two military Bobbies pointing flashlights and guns at me. All I could think to do was just drop the brick and sit there like some addle-brained idiot. Did any of them survive sir?"
"No son, they didn't."
With that, Dorian Gray brings both fists down onto the steel table; "DAMN IT!"
The table jumps slightly from the blow, and Gibbs notices a dent were his fists hit. "I can see how you might be a boxing champ. And I will admit, you have one of the more… …unique stories I've ever heard, and I'll also admit that I'm not sure if you're telling the truth or not, something I'm usually really good at doing. But I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you're holding out on something. Care to fill in the missing pieces?"
"And have you yanks version of mom come after me for violating secrecy laws, I don't think so Mr. Gibbs."
"Agent Gibbs, Special Agent, and my mother died a long time ago." Gibbs says even as he notices Lieutenant Aisent give a startled jump at Gray's words.
"Special Agent uh. Well, at least you don't add a 'Very' to the beginning of that, than it really would sound like you ride the 'Short Bus' to work." Gibbs thinks he can almost hear McGee's and Ziva's bark of laughter when he notices Gray look at the dividing mirror and he realizes that he CAN hear their laughter.
Turning to give the people on the other side of the mirror a glare, Lieutenant Aisent cut's in; "When you say mom, you mean the M.o.M. right? What do the Mysterians have to do with all this?"
Realizing he missed something important in his words, Gibbs turns back around just as Gray gives a laugh; "Everything sir, and just like everything about them, it's all so classified and hidden as to be nearly ridicules. Hell sir, us just talking about it like this is probably some violation of law. You know what?" He say's cutting both Gibbs and Aisent off; "This is America right? I'm entitled to a phone call aren't I? Just lead me to a phone."
"You've got your legal counsel sitting right here Petty Officer Gray, why would you need to call someone else?"
Gray looks over at the Lieutenant and snorts; "No offence sir, but you don't exactly seem to be jumping up to defend me. I can't help but wonder if you've been sent more to get a quick resolution rather than defend me or even try and get the truth. If it's all the same sir, I think I'll try my luck with an old acquaintance."
Gibbs notices the Lieutenant start to get angry so cuts him off by tossing his cell phone onto the table. "Do you know the number?"
"It's been seven years since they gave it to me sir, but I should be able to get it right after a couple of tries."
"We'll be in the other room." With that, he motions Aisent out and leaves.
Walking back into the observation room; "McGee, that was my personal phone, you have my permission to trace and record." Then he quietly asks; "Opinions?"
Director Vance looks at him; "Besides agreeing with Captain Lockhart about not wanting to ever get in the ring with him, I agree with you, he's hiding something, though I'm not so sure if he's actually lying. The way he cut off for a second here and there makes me wonder if this has something to do with his past and the people after him."
"I was thinking something similar." Gibbs say's, then turning to the two British sailors he adds; "So, what's this mom thing? I assume it's one of your ministries yes?"
Captain Lockhart just shrugs in a 'I have no idea' way, but Lieutenant Aisent looks at everyone; "It is, but like Mr. Gray says, everything about them is so classified as to be beyond belief. And even without that, no one outside their organization knows anything about them. Hell, we don't even know what the initials actually stand for. We make jokes about the being so mysterious and call them the Ministry of Mystery or just Mysterians, but simply put, we have no idea who they are or what they do. The only thing we've ever been able to gather is they operate under the authority of the Queen and Prime Minister, answering to no one else. And that their operating authority includes, at least for the Royal Navy, the ability to override any orders, including from Admirals and to order damn near any mission, including acts of war on foreign soil. So yeah, a Petty Officer showing any sort of knowledge about them, assuming they are the ones he was talking about, caught my attention."
Before anyone could reply, Ziva cut in; "I've actually dealt with one before. Well, actually I met one before. My friend Khavakuk had to deal with him. When he first showed up and took command of a detachment of S.A.S. stationed in Israel, Khavakuk was ordered by Aba to be his license with Mossad. That first day, we made jokes about the way he acted and dressed, but when they got back from their mission a few days later, half of the S.A.S. where dead and no one joked about him anymore. None of them would ever even admit to having met him, not even the S.A.S. To a man, they all would look at you as if they had no idea what you were talking about when you mentioned him. To the day he died six years later, Khavakuk claimed he didn't know what I was talking about whenever I brought him up."
"He got through." McGee said referring to the phone call as he turned the speaker up a little on the computer.
The voice on the other end of the line sounded staticy; "Ministry of…"
"The lines being monitored!" Gray cut her off. "I'm on an unsecured line with someone definitely listening in on this side, if not monitoring the entire conversation."
A slight pause; "I see sir, and how may I help you today?"
"This is 'Dorian Gray', I was told several years ago that if I ever had trouble with a, what where they called, a Deatheater, to call this number." Hearing her snicker, he lashed out; "Listen, you people gave me that dumb ass name thinking no one would recognize it, you can at least have the decency to pretend to find it less amusing than everyone else in the world!" Meanwhile, McGee was looking up 'Deatheater."
"I'm sorry sir," she said with a definite increase in her snicker, "but I'm not sure if I believe you, the Deatheater threat has been dealt with. So whatever problems a muggle like you might be having, I'm sure have nothing to do with them."
"Oh, so it was just some random member of your little subculture who killed five of my mates before I killed him was it? Listen, can you put me in contact with Harry Potter? He's who I'm trying to get a hold of."
"Oh, so a muggle wants to get a hold of Harry Potter. What makes you think I'd put you through to him, I'm sure he's just dying to speak to you, I'll just call him up and have him drop everything to take a muggles phone call shall I?"
"Would you, that'd be nice if you could do that." Gray said, sarcasm dripping from his voice; "And as for why you should, the simple fact that a muggle like me knows who he is should be enough for any halfway intelligent person to know they should send the call up to the level above them."
"Why you li…" The voice on the other end suddenly cut off as everyone listening in stood with various looks of shock at the behavior of the secretary on the other end of the line.
"Thank you Malaria," a new voice said; "but I don't think phone service is quite working out for you. Why don't you go back to personnel and let them know you've been removed from yet another position? Thank you and GOOD BYE! Sorry about that sir, nepotism is unfortunately alive and well even in this day and age. This is Mss. Hermione Weasley, how may I help you?"
"There's a name I actually recognize." Gray says; "I need to too speak with Harry Potter."
"Well, despite his former, single day assistant's rather poor attitude, he IS a really busy man. Is there some particular reason you need him? Or will any old Aurora be of assistance?"
"Well. Let's see, a couple of hours ago, a couple of you people killed five of my mates and framed me for their murder before I was able to kill one of them and drive the other to flee. So, not knowing what an Aurora is, you tell me, can they be of assistance? If they can, I'll take what I can get. I called for Harry because I only know a couple of names of you lot, and he's the only one I figure would recognize me and maybe, just maybe, be convinced to help."
"I'm sorry sir, but if you don't know what an Aurora even is, how do you know Harry?"
"Because he's my cousin. My real name is Dudley."
After a moment of silence from the other end; "Dursley!" She asks coldly, voice dripping in distaste.
"You do recognize me! Isn't that swell!"