MCIS: The Reboot

Welcome fans! 4 years in the making and I'm back. Hopefully I can stay back. I've been watching NCIS on Netflix and re-reading the Maximum Ride series, so I think it's time to give the old fans something. Remember, I rely on all of your support to keep going. But enough of that. Here's the new Chapter One.

Disclaimer- I do not own NCIS or Maximum Ride, this story is strictly for entertainment purposes.

Chapter One - The Girl

James opens his truck door, allowing the cool morning breeze to drift into the cab. He rubs the sleep out of his blue eyes and steps out into the parking lot of his local gas station. The red sun had just began peeking over the horizon. He closes the door and locks it, sliding the keys into his pocket.

James adjusts his long brown overcoat and stretches. Forced by habit, he scans the parking lot. Two cars, one at the pumps, engine still running with highly tinted windows. The other, an old mini van, two spots from James' truck.

A slight breeze ruffles James' greying hair and he shivers. Pulling his coat on tighter, he steps up onto the sidewalk, and heads to the door. A younger man, with a dark hoodie with his hood up, holds the door, allowing James inside.

"Thanks," James says out of courtesy, taking in every feature of the young man. Another habit, being a Special Agent and all. The man follows James inside and walks straight back to the restrooms.

James walks up to the coffee machine and sees a young girl fixing a cup of hot chocolate. The girl, wearing a large worn windbreaker with long slashes down the back, grabs a lid and walks towards the counter.

James notices her features. Roughly eighteen years of age, dirty blonde hair, almost six feet tall and extremely thin. He looks away and grabs two large foam cups. James fills up both cups with dark roast black coffee and snags two lids.

As James is walking towards the counter, coffee in hand, he sees the young man exit the restroom and begin browsing the isles. The young man looks up at James, just long enough for James to notice something unwelcoming in his eyes.

James shifts uncomfortably, turning his attention back to the counter. The young girl pulls out a wad of bills and some change and sets in on the counter. "It'll only be two-fifty sweetheart," the balding man behind the counter tells the girl.

Just as she begins to count it out, James sets his two coffees on the counter and pushes the pile of money back into the girl's hands. "I've got you covered. Take your chocolate and go," James half orders the girl, glancing back over his shoulder at the sketchy man in the isles.

"Thanks pops," She whispers, grabbing her hot chocolate and rushing out the door. Just as the double glass doors close from the girl exiting, James feels the cold barrel of a gun on his temple.

"How very sweet old man. Trying to save someone's life. To bad no one is here to save you." The hooded assailant whispers into James' ear, then turns towards the cashier. "Now put all the money in a fucking bag or I'll kill you both on the spot. Now!"

James risks a peek over his shoulder. "Don't try anything funny grandpa or you're dead!"

"One, I'm not a grandfather. Only forty-seven. Two, you're holding a gun to a federal agent's head. Big mistake."

For milliseconds, the assailant pauses, and James acts. He swings around, knocking the gun away from his head, and hitting the young man with a right hook in the stomach. Before he can recover, James slides over the counter, drawing his own sidearm, his NCIS issued Sig Sauer.

"Stay down," he tells the cashier. Two shots ring out and and hit the wall behind the two men, causing them both to duck.

"Not worth your life old man!"

"Federal Agent! Drop your weapon now!" The man fires another shot. James pokes his head up and fires two shots. One skims the perps arm, the other hits him in the stomach. The guy stumbles back, and takes off out of the store. "Call the cops."

James leaps back over the counter and pursues the man outside, still holding his own weapon. He stops in his tracks.

"Told you not to meddle in things you know nothing about gramps." In front of James, the assailant is standing in front of James' truck, holding the girl by the throat, with his gun to her head.

Beneath her, her hot chocolate lays spilled on the concrete. James looks at the girl's face, and freezes. The first time he had gotten a good look at her face. It had something about it. Something James recognized. But he couldn't place it. He saw something in her eyes.

"Brody!" the familiar man's voice snaps James out of his trance. Next thing James heard was three shots, then a sharp pain in his left shoulder. James staggers and drops his Sig.

He looks over, watching the girl run off as the assailants body crumples to the ground. "Federal Agents stop!" The same voice from before. The girl takes off down an alleyway and out of sight.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks up. "L.J. , glad you could join me," James says through gritted teeth, holding his bleeding shoulder.

"Brody James Rawlings, you're losing your touch. Taking one in the shoulder. Stand up. You always were the biggest wuss between us." James stands, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs slaps him in the back of the head. "Now where the hell is our coffee?"