Checkmate

By ProfessorElk

Disclaimer: The NCIS characters mentioned below are not mine and no profit has been made in the writing or posting of this story.

Summary: Set after 12x11 "Check." Not having his glasses on to check the caller i.d., he answered with his usual, "Yeah, Gibbs." "Checkmate." The voice on the other line, although only spoke one word, it was enough to make his blood run cold.

Spoilers: Set after NCIS episode 12x11, "Check." General spoilers for the previous NCIS seasons as well.

Part I

He could no longer stand their concerned looks and ill disguised whispers. They followed him everywhere and came from everyone. His team, his boss, the other agents in the building. Even Frank, the night guard had looked at him with pity. It was stifling and restricting, and was a distraction he did not need. What he needed was Sergei Michnev. Preferably dead.

That man had made it personal too long ago for reasons unknown. Killings Banks and the rest of the helo crew was an atrocity by itself, but those innocent navy personnel in the diner, the man left in the snow, and Diane, that was a step too far. Fornell was broken and Emily's world was destroyed. Diane's blood was on his hands, hands that had already been stained a permanent red from too much loss, too much pain.

The joy and childish excitement from his team meeting Rebecca was over. They jumped to attention faster, fingers struck their respective keyboards with more intensity, they stayed later, worked harder, and a tall Styrofoam cup of black coffee from the diner under the bridge was a permanent fixture in his desk, never unfilled. They were showing they cared and were worried, but he could not show his appreciation. It was too hard and if he broke, gave in, he was afraid he would lose his stoicism and drive. Those innocent people, Diane, they deserved the best.

So instead, he buried himself in the job. He had gone over the evidence so many times, he had memorized the information long ago. He pushed his team to do the same, only letting them go home in the early hours of the morning just to sleep long enough to start a new day that was exactly like the last. For their part, they did not complain, they worked tirelessly, and he was proud of them. Damn proud. Not that he could say it in so many words.

It was starting to show on them, and if he could get past his own pain and guilt, he would have seen it himself sooner. Tony had permanent dark circles under his eyes. He was pushing himself too much, trying to support the man who had supported him so much in the past. Ellie tried to hide behind tight smiles and deflect with trips to the vending machine, but her marriage was taking the toll. Too many late nights and early mornings, overtime on weekends and days off, resulted in hurt feelings and blame. She was never home, he could not fault Jake for wanting to see his wife, but how could he allow one wife to retreat to her family while another wife's family was shattered from her loss?

And McGee, loyal Tim who had just lost someone as well. He did not speak of it, he knew any question would be answered with a quick smile that did not quite reach the younger man's eyes and brief assurances that he was fine. He did not have time nor the energy too pull out more from his agent, to be the silent presence that Tim needed after losing his father. He could only focus on one thing and one thing only - killing Sergei Michnev.

When the callout came, he could feel the tendrils of rage seep up from his neck and settle behind his eyes. Storming up to Vance had not gained the desired results, a cool stare and a leveled reply of how it would be good for everyone to take a break was the only answer. He jogged back down the stairs into the bullpen, his agents standing at attention instantly at the sound of his heavy feet. "Dead marine at Rock Creek Park," he answered their unspoken question. Reaching his desk, he opened the top drawer, procuring the van's keys and tossing them to a surprised McGee.

"Gas the truck." Tim instantly went to do as he was told, even though it was a job for a probie. He was almost disgusted what his actions had brought about how his agents were treating him and how he let them do it. It was not fair, it was not right, but he could not deal with it right now.

"Follow the sedan," he instructed Tony on the way to the elevators not waiting until he heard the expected 'Got it, Boss'.

The quietness of the drive helped soothe him, although slightly. He knew Vance was right, that they all needed a break from the Michnev case and his loyal team would not take it unless he forced them to do so. He hated doing it. It went against every fiber of his being, his loyalty to the military, his loyalty to protect the innocent, and the loyalty of a woman who had openly professed her love to him, a love he could never find in his heart to return. But he was loyal to his team too. They needed him to tell them it was okay to rest, as much as it pained him to do so.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could not help but smile, albeit slightly. Tim was behind the wheel, listening as Tony adamantly explained something, Bishop looking uncomfortable sandwiched between the two men. They were family, and nothing deserved his loyalty more than that.

He was thinking of ways in which he could get them time off after this new case was closed without outright requesting it and thus admitting he was wrong, when his cell phone ringed. Not having his glasses on to check the caller i.d., he answered with his usual, "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Checkmate." The voice on the other line, although only spoke one word, it was enough to make his blood run cold.

Before he could even begin to comprehend what Sergei Michnev had in mind, the reverberating crack of rifle fire and screeching tires was his answer.

To be continued…

a/n: Thank you for reading this first installment of my new story – more to come soon!