Yes! I'm still alive. Granted extremely slack. But alive nonetheless. Still suffering from the same writer's block as before. Here's a chapter I wrote trying to barge through it. Let me know if I can continue with it, or should I attempt to review this short monstrosity?


Gibbs rubbed his eyes as he examined the document placed in front of him during his breakfast. While he and his agents had slept the Australian authorities had worked tirelessly throughout the night. Communication between MI5, MI6, Mossad, the CIA and other intelligence organizations had yielded a number of successes.

Two of the people thought to have masterminded the attacks had been detained in Sydney's International Airport, just minutes before they would have boarded a flight eventually bound for a non-extradition country.

The Australian Federal Police had a further list of some four other people that may have assisted in the attacks along with the name of the third and last mastermind behind the attacks. Intelligence suggested they were still in the country and the last page of the report in front of Gibbs suggested the net was rapidly closing. Intelligence had tracked them to the northern suburbs of Melbourne and it was believed to be only a matter of time before all responsible were behind bars. Or dead. Gibbs would have preferred the latter.


As they were only assisting with the investigation; the NCIS agents were not able to interview the suspects but they had been invited to view the interrogations from behind the one-way glass. The two apprehended suspects had been flown to Brisbane and were being held at Queensland Police Headquarters.

On the way there, Gibbs asked their driver to make a brief stop.

Barging through the emergency room, Gibbs sought out the ward holding the injured Agent Roland Dunn. Obtaining his room number from the nurses' station, he opened the door only to find it empty. A hospital gown was folded on top of a neatly made bed.

Gibbs wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he had a brief moment of panic at the thought that the empty bed signified the Federal Agent had succumbed to his wounds. But as rational thinking once again resumed, he realized that the nurse at the desk would have informed him if that had eventuated.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the agent's number. After only two rings it picked up, and Gibbs heard the painful wheeze in the man's voice as Roland said "Good Morning Gibbs."

"Why aren't you in hospital?" Gibbs demanded, skipping the niceties completely.

"I've had the stitches, and they've put the band-aids in the appropriate places. I don't need to lie around in bed longer than necessary. I've got work to do. That breakthrough we've had didn't come without our fair share of effort overnight. I've probably spent more money on phone bills in the last eight hours than DiNozzo spends on eyebrow waxing." Came the reply. Dunn was attempting to mask the pain in his voice but it was still evident.

Gibbs was attempting to ignore his irritation at the fact that it appeared his supply of DiNozzos was multiplying – now he had two agents who tried to work despite clearly being in agony. "Where are you?" He asked.

"At Headquarters, we're starting the interviews in fifteen. I'd suggest getting here Gibbs. You won't want to be late." And with that Roland ended the call abruptly, before Gibbs had any chance to respond.

And Gibbs had to admit that maybe there was just a little bit of himself in the Australian agent too.


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