Special Agent Harris, NCIS
By Fojee
Chapter Nine: A Spider at Sunset
Several lines of dialogue taken verbatim from NCIS episode "Reveille" 1x23.
---
You descend upon them like a spider at sunset.
On your bosom, black lilies.
Your teeth, white as tombstones,
purify altars and famed steeples.
…
Killer, from your throat a dying city rattles its death rattle.
The silence grinds out luminescence in lambent silence.
I should sip champagne. Cross myself.
From "The Killer" by Ruxandra Cesereanu
Translated from the Romanian by Adam J. Sorkin and Claudia Litvinchievici with the author
---
It was forty minutes past three and Xander Harris was wide awake.
He had finished patrol at around eleven, opting for an early night, having found nary a vampire in town. Aside from human muggers and drug dealers and women of questionable repute, there was little criminal activity in the area. He did break up a pathetic fight between a very stupid Ano-Movic demon and a very drunk Mok'Tagar tourist in the alley outside Petrovich's. But for the pronounced eye ridges and red skin of the Ano-Movic, it could have been a normal bar brawl, since the Mok'Tagar could pass for human if they chose. Soulless, but human. As it was, Xander barely worked up a sweat before coming home and falling to bed.
So why am I awake? Xander spent a full minute just listening to the sounds of the pre-dawn, trying to find the answer. He sat upright as soon as he heard the scratching. He breathed evenly, trying to get his heartbeat under control even as he reached for a weapon. Sure, it could be mice. Or it could be evil blood-sucking mice from some hell dimension.
He slid out of bed noiselessly and walked barefoot towards the front door.
Scritch, scritch, scritch. Wasn't there a horror movie that began just like this? Tony would know, he thought with barely repressed hysteria. He opened the peephole, looking through it sideways. Nothing.
The scratching continued, but it came further down the door.
Xander looked down at his white shirt and his blue pjs, wishing he had a spare Kevlar vest lying around. Or lightweight chain mail.
He opened the door, praying that the spell against intruders will hold.
A wolf—with a coat of gleaming white and intelligent yellow eyes—was sitting in the hallway. It made a noise between a whine and a growl and tilted its head as if in question.
Xander's own eyes widened in recognition, before closing in resignation.
"Please come in, Master."
---
McGee was waxing poetic about this new program that would speed up the search for his mysterious terrorist. The Bastard. The Man without a Name. Gibbs rubbed his temples. He had dreamt about him again, and woke up with a headache. And he still didn't understand a word the younger agent was saying.
"This you can do?" He asked, fed up with all the talk.
"I just need a couple of hours to put it on your hard drive."
Gibbs told him to get on it, before turning to Abby. "Did he stay at your place?"
"Yeah," she said with that wicked smile of hers. She always loved to tease him.
"Did you sleep in the coffin, McGee?" He asked, teasing back, letting her know indirectly that he was fine. He and Abby were used to talking without words, or through words that had three different meanings. With satisfaction, he let the elevator doors close on McGee's shocked face.
---
Kate was still trying to digest the fact that Gibbs bought her coffee, when he dropped his bombshell.
"I want you to profile a terrorist."
"What terrorist?"
"The one you couldn't stab."
She bit her lip. "I already had this conversation with Xander."
Gibbs slammed a hand on the table, drawing the attention of other people in the coffee shop. "You profiled him for Harris?"
"No! He asked me why I couldn't kill him."
"And what did you say?"
Kate covered her face with her hands. "His eyes seemed kind. And don't start another lecture, Gibbs. I won't forget."
"Won't forget what?" Gibbs asked softly.
"That eyes can lie."
"Why'd he give me a gun?" Gibbs asked.
Kate looked confused. "Xander?"
"No. The bastard. He let me take a shot at him. Why?"
"To make his escape plan work."
Gibbs was shaking his head even before she stopped speaking. "He could have killed me in cold blood. H-R-T comes in, throws a flash bang. Either way he's gone."
"You're right." Kate throws his question back at him. "So why'd he give you a shot at him?"
The answer dawned on Gibbs like a gear clicking in place. "He needs to face death to feel alive. Maybe to feel anything."
---
"Where the hell is Harris?" Gibbs asked as soon as he got back to the office.
"He called in sick," McGee blurted out. He was still sitting on Gibbs' desk. "He said he wasn't feeling very well."
Gibbs tried the kid's cellphone, but it went straight to voice-mail. "Sick, my ass," he muttered. "Get me Harris' address," he barked out at Kate.
"You're going to his place?" Kate asked, but Director Morrow chose that moment to show up.
"Jethro, we got Bahrain on the line. You requested the conference call?"
Gibbs immediately grabbed a folder from his desk. "Try Harris until you contact him," he ordered Kate, before following the director up to MTAC.
McGee, nerves shot at the air of tension in the bullpen, gathered up his things. "Could you tell Gibbs I'll tweak the uh, program in Abby's lab," he said breathlessly, before retreating.
Kate just shook her head. McGee needs to grow a pair if he really wants to be a field agent. She tried Harris' phone to no avail. A very long and unproductive minute later, Tony showed up with a smile as big as a valley and as bright as a sunrise.
"Let me guess. You're in love. Again," Kate said after she noticed his expression.
"You are so right," Tony said, sitting down on his desk, remembering the hot blonde number he had seen on his morning run.
"What's her name?" Kate asked, curious in spite of herself.
"She's Swedish." And in great shape. Tony mentally added, remembering how the blonde had run up the stairs without a change in her breathing.
"You don't know her name?" Kate looked incredulous for a moment. "Oh, I forgot. It's you we're talking about."
"Where's Xander?" Tony asked, finally noticing the absence on the desk beside him.
"Off sick, but I can't reach him. Gibbs is gonna tear him a new one," Kate said, and almost smiled, imagining how Harris would react. "He might even piss his pants."
---
Xander Harris no longer laughed in the face of danger; he no longer hid until it went away. But standing in front of the Dark Master, he stifled the insidious urge to cower in a corner. Instead, he sat down on the couch, his posture stiff and watchful, keeping up the pretense that he could still protect himself.
He had rigged together some covering for the tiny windows high up in the walls, though with the grime, there was little chance for direct sunlight to harm the vampire in his living room. After that, he had spent an hour ordering and waiting for blood from a contact at a nearby hospital. It was only polite after all, for a host to offer his guest a cup of o-neg.
By the time it was dawn, he was jumpy as hell, sipping his own cup of coffee. The wolf was gone. In its place stood the man, politely nibbling on some cinnamon cookies and making small talk.
"And how are you, my servant?" Dracula asked.
"Fine. I'm… better. Master," he answered choppily.
"I extend my deepest condolences for the passing of your… friend. She was indeed an unusual young lady," the vampire spoke precisely and cautiously, daintily sipping a cup of heated blood.
"Yes," Xander said tersely, looking at the pattern of his rug as if it could open a portal beneath his feet that would suck him into a different dimension. If only. "I… thank you, Master."
"You must be wondering why I am here."
Xander looked up, was caught in Dracula's penetrating gaze, and felt a ripple of fear and something else cascading down his spine. Dracula's eyes wore kindness as if it were a festive hat. Distracting, but one could still see the icy emptiness beneath it.
"You have been searching for a man with my face," Dracula continued when he remained silent. "It… wounds me that you didn't immediately send word."
Xander swallowed the lame excuse forming in his throat. "Sorry, Master."
"Your… paramour has left you," Dracula said after a moment, almost hesitantly. "And you are far from your friends. You are lonely."
Xander stood up in a sudden burst of energy. "No," he said in an almost yell, his eyes drawn to the pictures on his wall. "I'm not lonely. I'm not."
Dracula stood as well. "I see some strangers' faces," he said. "Perhaps you should introduce me to them."
"Gibbs will likely shoot you on sight," Xander said. "Not that it will kill you, but…"
"Another time, then," Dracula said dismissively. "You still haven't asked me any questions."
"You taught me never to question you," Xander replied bitterly.
"Ah, but you are not the man you were, my servant." And Xander had the uncomfortable notion that Dracula was checking him out.
"Fine. Do you know him? The man with your face?"
Dracula caught his eyes once more, measuring and calculating. "His name is Ari Haswari."
---
Three hours later, Xander called in sick, turned off both phones, unplugged his landline, and sat in the soothing darkness of his empty living room.
Dracula was gone. He had turned into mist, disappearing down the pipes in his sink towards whichever lair he had chosen. Xander spent a moment wracking his brain for abandoned mansions in the area, before giving it up as useless. If he concentrated, he could feel the mark and follow it back to his master. But why would he want to? It's not like he could kill the vampire.
But he could kill Ari Haswari.
---
"So you've been watching over your brother's descendents for over five hundred years?" Xander had asked in fascination.
"Yes. Radu had lain with many women while living with the Turks, though he died of syphilis in Wallachia the year before I was turned. His wives and children in Turkey were murdered in a political dispute. A few escaped into exile, down to Lebanon until they ended in Israel in the Palestinian territories. There are very few of them remaining, one of which is your man."
"He's not my man," Xander had denied, before saying hesitantly. "If my boss ends up killing him…"
"What does it matter to me?" Dracula had smiled sharply, flashing fang. "I have kept an eye on them only because it was amusing. My brother betrayed me once, and I would have killed him myself. Besides, these political games you humans play bore me."
"Like you weren't a wily war general in your time. Don't deny it."
"You read up on me?" Dracula had looked pleased at the admission.
Xander had blushed scarlet.
"Ari Haswari courts death as if it were a lover. It is no matter whose hand delivers the final blow," Dracula had said, before proffering his farewells. "Keep in touch, my servant."
"Wait!" Xander had called out, his voice cracking. "Why are you helping me? What do you want from me?"
Dracula had turned towards him, stepping close, and laying a cold hand on his cheek, saying softly as if a thread of wind. "Because you are mine."
---
Gibbs looked down at the post-it with Harris' address, feeling unusually indecisive. He was sitting in the car outside Harris' building. The decision was taken out of his hands as the front door opened, and his agent came out. Looking healthy as a horse.
He got out, slammed his door shut and jogged across the street, grabbing Xander's shoulder. And finding himself face first against the wall, his hand twisted up behind his back, Harris' arm behind his neck.
"Harris," he grunted. He was immediately released.
"Boss!" Xander said in horror. "I'm sorry."
"Never say you're sorry. It's a sign of weakness," Gibbs replied automatically, before wincing, rotating his right shoulder. He had been taken by surprise. Even so, the kid had never reacted that fast in their practices. "You holding out on me, boy?"
"Well you scared the crap out of me. Adrenaline rush," Xander said sheepishly.
"So why d'you call in sick? And where are you headed?"
"I had a surprise visitor," he answered evasively. He took a deep breath, before speaking. "I have his name."
Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "What?"
"The terrorist. His name's Ari Haswari. He's Hamas, and Mossad."
Gibbs let out a string of colorful invectives, pulling out his phone, and calling Tony.
"DiNozzo," Tony answered.
"Get me everything on Ari Haswari. And I want it five minutes ago."
Kate raised her eyebrows in question. Tony shrugged. "On it, boss." There goes lunch.
---
What now? Ari Haswari thought as he peered through the binoculars into could feel the impatience of his men, though they were in a separate car, waiting for his signal. Marta was nearby, in case she was needed to distract Anthony. Young Alexander could be dispatched by another team on standby. Everything was in place. Come on, Caitlin. It's time to dance.
---
"The name Ari's Israeli. Haswari's Arab," Gibbs said contemplatively. As soon as he had returned to the office, dragging Harris along, he called the whole team into a huddle to discuss their findings.
"Maybe his folks are working on some sort of Middle East peace plan," Abby said.
"Ducky was right about the accent," McGee added. "He graduated from Edinburgh Medical College in ninety four." He brought up the picture on the plasma.
"Kate, find someone who knew him in Edinburgh."
"Already did, boss," Tony interrupted. "I spoke to a Doctor Martin Sedwick, Pickford Mews, London. He and Ari were post graduate research assistants at the Edinburgh Centre for Infectious Diseases. Explains why Hamas chose him to recover the small pox virus. Doctor Sedwick said he was quite brilliant, always with beautiful women and always answered to Haswari….never Ari."
Kate added. "His father was Doctor Benjamin Weinstein, Jewish. His mother, Doctor Hosmiya Haswari, Muslim. They worked in Jerusalem Hospital and never married."
"That's not right," Xander spoke quietly.
"What?" Kate turned to him, protest leaping to her lips.
"His father is the Director of Mossad, Eli David," Xander said. "Ari's a sleeper."
Everyone fell silent at the implications, though McGee was already typing the information into the computer. "I can't find any verification of that."
"Of course you won't find it," Xander said. "Ari's safety within the Hamas depends upon keeping that a secret."
"But, that makes him a good guy, right?" Abby asked.
"Tell that to Gerald," Gibbs growled before walking out. He needed to talk to Director Morrow.
---
"Hey, I'm gonna go for a lunch run," Tony said, "You guys want something?"
"I'll go with you," Kate volunteered. "Just to make sure you get the orders right."
"Keep out of trouble," Xander blurted out.
"What are you, my dad?" Kate teased him, before listing down who wants what. "Better get something for Gibbs, too."
"Gibbs thinks he's out there, Kate. So I'm just saying don't take any chances," Xander caught her eye. She felt her back straightening—a mix of indignation and agreement.
"Aye, aye, sir," she said ironically.
"Don't worry, Kate. I'll protect you," Tony said, flexing a bicep. "Just hide behind these muscles and you'll be safe."
They were bickering as usual as they left, but Xander still couldn't shake his unease.
"So, Xander?" Abby leaned forward, making McGee shift in jealousy. "Where did you get the 411, anyway? Gibbs said something about you having connections in high places?"
"More like low," Xander murmured. "Can't reveal my sources, anyway. Imagine the uproar it would cause at Mossad."
"Ten bucks says Gibbs is causing that uproar now," Abby dared him with a wink.
"I'm not stupid enough to take that bet," Xander protested.
McGee stood up, clearly uncomfortable watching Abby flirt with someone else. "Maybe I should be going before Gibbs remembers to kick me out. I mean the program ended up being useless so…"
"Stay for lunch, McGee," Xander said. "You need to wait for Gibbs' go-signal anyway."
"Why?" McGee blurted out.
"Because I just told you highly-classified intel. You need to be debriefed about it, as soon as Gibbs finds out the official stance." He made air-quotes around the phrase.
"In the meantime, I need to debrief Ducky, and get back to work. So you boys play nice," Abby said, blowing McGee a kiss before heading to her lab.
"Well, what'll I do, then?" McGee asked.
Xander looked at the stack of folders on his desk. "You could help me with my paperwork?" He asked hopefully.
---
They just stepped out of the restaurant a block away from the office when Tony saw the Swedish hottie across the street, still running in her sports bra and orange shorts.
"Kate, can you just give me a minute?" He said, handing the take-out bags to her.
"No, Tony!" She protested. "If you go chasing some skirt, I'll sic Gibbs on you."
Tony stopped short at the edge of the curb. "You do know I'm not scared of Gibbs, don't you?"
"Then why d'you stop?" Kate asked.
"Because it's past one and she's still in the same outfit as this morning. No one runs that long and still looks fresh as a daisy."
Kate's mouth dropped open.
---
"He didn' take the bait. Damn it!" Marta reported on her cellphone. "Your plan's falling apart, Haswari."
"Relax, Marta," Ari said in soothing tones. "We still have a chance at this."
Kate was already dialing Gibbs when she saw him. He was in a red motorcycle and a matching helmet. He clicked his visor open, and his eyes drilled into hers. She forgot everything, forgot to press the dial button, and forgot that Tony was at her side.
She dropped the bags and got out her gun. But the lights turned green, and Ari zoomed past.
"Kate, what the hell…" Tony grabbed her arm, just as she was hailing the nearest car.
"It's Ari, Tony. Call Gibbs. I'm going after him."
"No, you're not," Tony said, his voice suddenly hard. "Don't be stupid, Kate. He just happened to pass by? It's a damn trap and you know it."
"He's right, Kate," said a lightly accented voice behind Tony, as he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and the barrel of a gun dig in his lower back. "Now drop your weapon, and join my friends in that car over there."
Tony swallowed, not daring to turn his head. He looked into Kate's big eyes and nodded imperceptibly. She lowered her weapon and dropped it on the sidewalk amongst the paper bags. It's the middle of the day, for crying out loud, he thought, even as he scanned the streets for any cops in the area.
"Now why would she do that?" Tony drawled. He squinted at the green car—the one Kate had tried to hail—which had stopped at the corner. He tried to remember the faces of the passengers.
"Because I will blow your spine out if she doesn't. If she does, I promise I will leave you alive."
Kate scoffed at the promise, but she didn't have much of a choice. "Tony, if you don't save me, I'll kick your ass," she joked, even as she turned to the car, gripping her phone in her hand. She pressed the dial button in the distraction of getting in the car then jammed it in her pocket.
"I'll save you, Kate," Tony whispered, before he was dragged into an alley. The last thing he remembered was the white-hot pain of the gun slamming against his head. The car sped off.
The terrorist picked up Kate's 9mm on the street and casually hailed a taxi.
---
His cellphone rang as he was going down the staircase. "Gibbs," he barked into it after he noted the caller. Kate did not answer. Instead, there were distant murmurs in Arabic. He stopped short before cursing under his breath, striding down into the bullpen.
"McGee," he said harshly. "Trace Kate's phone. Now."
Xander stood up, already clipping his badge and gun to his belt. "They just went for lunch, boss."
"Ari has her," Gibbs said grimly, grabbing his own gun.
Xander didn't bother with questions, accepting Gibbs' word as fact. "They went to that deli at the corner."
"That bastard must've been watching us," Gibbs said, looking out the window into the bay. "I'll keep Kate on the line. You got an extra phone, Harris?"
Xander scrambled for his batphone. He gave it to Gibbs, leaving the number with McGee. "Call when you have a definite location. Separate cars?"
"No time," Gibbs replied tersely. "Come on."
McGee felt the sweat trickle down his nose, but he dared not stop until he got Kate's location.
---
They immediately spotted the bags of take-out by the sidewalk. Xander looked around while Gibbs called McGee for an update.
"Boss!" Xander called out when he saw Tony behind a dumpster in the alleyway.
Gibbs hurried to his side. After checking Tony's pulse, he ordered. "Call an ambulance. I'm going after Kate."
Xander wanted to protest, but he merely nodded. He dialed 911, and watched his boss leave, feeling the same helplessness as when Glory had kidnapped Dawn right before... It was at moments like these that he really missed the Scooby gang.
---
Tony woke up in the hospital. "Kate," he croaked, while a nurse checked his vitals.
"It's okay, Tony." The voice belonged to Xander, and the younger agent appeared to his left. "Kate's safe. It's over."
Tony sank down. "Gibbs?" He slurred out.
"He's fine," Xander reassured him. "Nobody got hurt, except…" his voice trailed away.
"Who?" Tony demanded, even though it felt like someone was playing a drum solo in his head.
"That blond chick you had a crush on. She's Hamas. Kate said Ari killed her. Secret service did the rest."
It was too much to digest, especially since his lunch was scattered on some street. "Bastard's still alive?"
"I'm afraid so, Tony. I'm afraid so." Xander watched his teammate fall back to sleep, thinking about what he didn't say.
Gibbs had been very unhappy to reach Kate's location and find Ari gone, with a dead blonde on the ground. The rest of the terrorists who were gunning for President Bush and Prime Minister Sharon were rounded up before they managed to stage their ambush on Marine One.
And within the hour, the CIA had a meeting with agency heads about their new spy.
At this very moment, Gibbs was probably sanding his boat with a vengeance, angry as a bear, still itching to put a bullet through Ari Haswari. Because now there was no way they'd let him.
---
Nobody told Gibbs what he could and couldn't do. Not his partner, nor the director, and certainly not some spook from the CIA. He was gonna owe Fornell big time for arranging this; but the FBI agent really should have known better.
It was dark in the Autopsy, just like in his dream. He stepped closer to the body bag and unzipped it. The blonde was inside with a bullet to her forehead. "She's his fall guy," Kate had explained.
Ari stepped from the shadows and he was smiling.
"Did you make love to her and then blew her brains out?" Gibbs said, baiting and watching the other man's reactions.
"She would have done the same to me," Ari said matter-of-factly.
"So now you go back to the Middle East. You tell them Marta was Mossad, and she blew the op? What makes you think they'll buy that?"
"You need not sound so concerned, Agent Gibbs. The Hamas will believe me. Al-Qaeda, however, might need a bit more persuading before they confide their plans to me," Ari said, reminding Gibbs how valuable he was now as a spy.
Gibbs felt his rage thrum down his nerves, like liquid fire. He'd do anything to wipe that smile off that bastard's face. So he smiled back and said, "Maybe I can help you convince al-Qaeda."
And he put a bullet through Ari's shoulder—the same place the other man had shot Gerald—and he walked away.
Ari's laughter echoed through the corridors. He didn't look back.
Neither man noticed the pool of mist passing through the crack in the door, leaving the building through the vents. It seemed in a hurry; it had a ship to catch.
---
"I slept in a coffin," McGee confided in Xander the following afternoon, while they were eating lunch nearby. "Abby told me it was a boxed sofa, and the lights were off and we were uh, busy, so I didn't find out til later."
Xander laughed. "Just be grateful there's no special dirt in it, coz that would freak me out."
McGee wrinkled his nose. Even after everything, Xander Harris remained an inscrutable mystery.
---
A/N: Ariel Sharon was the Israeli Prime Minister at that time. I know absolutely nothing about the Hamas-Mossad conflict in Israel. It took me a while to get through this. Hope you liked it! There will probably be a sequel, set in Season 2 of NCIS.