Chapter Text
"In Colombia ??" The shock pierces Parker voice, and looked at Nick and Jess, stunned by the news they had just told him.
“Yeah,” Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Our dear suspect finally confessed—after endless protests—to the murders and for Giraldo, and told us how we should go about arresting him and his accomplices.”Nick tapped his foot on the floor, his jaw slightly clenched more out of irritation than stress, thinking about how he was going to explain, in order, what their suspect had told them so that his team leader would understand. He and Jess had initially thought it would be harder to get the young woman to confess, even though, to their surprise, she agreed to cooperate after a dozen or so protests, in exchange for protection by the authorities.
“She told us that Giraldo works for one of Colombia’s most powerful cartels and that he was in Washington to settle a drug trafficking matter. He met with our two marines and lent them and/or entrusted them with something important belonging to his boss, which he later claimed back.” Jess continued, “Since our two marines were unable to apprehend him, he killed them and returned to Colombia as if nothing had happened, then sent our suspect to make sure no one was snooping around his affairs—specifically, his safe house.”
Parker paused for a long moment, looking at his two agents with a furrowed brow and a skeptical expression, but finally replied, “So our man lent something that belongs to his boss to our two Marines, and when he couldn’t get it back, he killed them and fled… okayyy, do we know what it is he wanted back? And when did he leave Washington?”
“We don’t know what it is yet, but as for when he left the country, he departed this morning on a private jet that Kessie managed to track and determine which region he was heading toward. Mcgee and the others already know; we were just waiting for your instructions and Vance’s.”
“This morning? He was quick.”
Nick noticed that Parker was looking at them, puzzled, not knowing what to say, muttering a few sentences he couldn’t quite make out. Parker finally sighed, rubbing his forehead, unsure of what to say to his two agents.
“Well, Colombia it is; the two of you will go there to find Giraldo and his men while we handle the rest of the investigation here with the others.”
The two agents nodded and turned away from their superior to start gathering the necessary supplies for the trip. Nick turned back to take one last look at Parker; he hadn’t expected to see an expression of terror on Parker’s face—an expression filled with pain, as if old ghosts that only he could see had returned to haunt him. Nick thought back to Jess’s words earlier that morning; she had found Parker strangely anxious and lost in thought, as if seeing Captain Owel’s body had unsettled him.
Nick then realized that Parker had looked away only to lock eyes with him, staring with an intensity that conveyed a single message: “Don’t try to find out too much.”
He finally turned around and walked down the stairs on the other side, leaving Nick alone at the top of the stairs.
After a few seconds of hesitation and confusion, Nick went downstairs as well, his thoughts a cacophony of questions swirling in his head; maybe Jess was right: Parker’s behavior was more than a little strange, and he was acting as if he knew more than they did about the investigation but wasn’t telling them anything.
After reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nick walked down the hallways back to the main offices, finding Jess, who had already gathered the papers she would need, waiting for him to do the same so they could go pick up their travel gear from their place.
“It took so long with Parker—what happened?”
“Um…” Nick hesitated, pausing to search for the right words. “I think you were right about… you know…” Seeing Nick’s hesitation to admit she was right (especially with the obvious grimace he was making), Jess looked at him, frowning, waiting for him to continue.
“Parker. About how you thought he was acting weird this morning with Captain Owel’s murder.”
“Oh.”
Jess bit her lower lip instinctively, wondering what they were going to do now that her initial fears had been confirmed by her colleague. She pulled herself together so as not to let Nick see anything was wrong, and motioned for him to follow her so they could continue their conversation elsewhere.
After leaving the building, the two got into Jess’s car to pick up their belongings from their respective apartments. Throughout the entire drive, Jess nervously tapped the steering wheel, while Nick maintained a neutral expression so as not to reveal the slightest trace of worry. The two eventually exchanged a discreet glance, unsure of what to say to break the heavy, silent atmosphere.
Nick decided to speak up, not knowing if his question would actually be relevant:
“So, does that mean we can add Parker as a person of interest or a potential suspect in our investigation?”
“Except that even if that were the case, we wouldn’t have any evidence incriminating him of anything,” she hastened to reply, as the other officer’s words did nothing to ease the strange feeling in her stomach. Silence fell over the car, leaving only the hum of the engine.
“Even if Parker had something to do with this investigation, we’d still be on his side, wouldn’t we? He’s one of us.”
Jess didn’t answer Nick’s question right away; she stared straight ahead, her eyes lost in space, her thoughts wandering along the road.
“I guess so. He's part of our family, after all, and we never really abandon a family member at NCIS.”
She had turned toward him as she spoke the last words of her sentence; Nick looked at her with a look in his eyes that had changed upon hearing them, and slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile.
They finished the rest of the ride in silence, the atmosphere feeling a little less stifling than at the start of their conversation, both of them at least having confirmation that they felt the same way about the man they cared about.
---
Once they had finished picking up Nick's and Jess's belongings, the two agents headed to the airport a few hours later, leaving them thirty minutes before their flight was scheduled to depart at 10 p.m.
The entire trip went off without a hitch, sparing the two agents from problems they would have had a hard time handling during and after the flight. Nick had been thinking about Parker’s situation during the trip: It wasn’t that he was worried about him; he knew full well that Parker would be fine no matter what happened, but Nick had a feeling that this time, it wouldn’t end as usual—that this story wouldn’t have a “happy” ending for their team.
He pushed those thoughts aside when they landed in Bogotá around four in the morning, so he could focus a little more on the work that awaited them.
Exhausted from the trip, the two agents staggered down the jet bridge and made their way to the airport’s baggage carousel to retrieve their belongings.
Nick rubbed his eyes and stretched his limbs, which had gone numb from the position he’d been in for hours, causing him a slight ache. He mechanically picked up his luggage and Jess’s—she had already rushed out to hail a taxi and had just given the driver the address of their hotel when he finally reached the car.
She greeted him with a small, proud smile that seemed to shout “victory” at having quickly secured a taxi to take them there, already dreaming of a bed where she could rest after the uncomfortable seats and the interrupted sleep of the flight.
Nick gladly agreed to relax in the back seat, even if only for a few minutes—just long enough to get to the hotel and check into a room—even though he would have liked to look for a few more clues or any additional evidence.
Once the two agents had been dropped off at the hotel, they hurried to check into separate rooms—sleep had become an absolute necessity for Agent Knight, while Nick needed a little more privacy to think. Since the rooms were next to each other, the two agents decided that if any problems arose, they would go get the other one.
The hotel itself wasn't very luxurious; the off-white walls and hallways with orange stripes were stained in places, the gray and black carpet had become dull from accumulated dust, and the cramped rooms were sparsely furnished.
Nick took a quick shower, then slipped under the covers, hoping to fall asleep. Unfortunately, after thirty minutes, he got up, feeling somewhat annoyed at his inability to sleep, and grabbed his clothes and phone to go out for some fresh air.
Outside, the humid night air enveloped Nick, slightly awakening his senses, which—unlike him—had been asleep.
After staring for a long time at the photo of Captain Owell’s tattoo that Kasie had sent him, he decided to go ask people if they knew anything about it.
He took one last look at the hotel and began his search.
---
Kasie was dozing off in her chair while articles about the meanings of Captain Owell’s tattoo scrolled across one of her computers, telling them nothing they didn’t already know from their previous research: The symbol of the sword and the semicircle belongs to the Amanzica Cartel, an organization that exerts influence over half the country to the point of having contacts in other territories and conducting business there. Unlike the symbol, research on the series of numbers yielded no results regarding their meaning, which only annoyed Kasie even more; she was working on two other cases at the same time and had slept only a few hours for at least four days.
Finally, she decided to let it go and take a break by going to see if Jimmy was doing any better than she was. However, when Kasie stepped out of the elevator, she certainly didn’t expect to find him looking perplexed, leaning over Captain Myers’s body, silent in the face of the scene before him (which is kind of strange, considering he tends to talk to the dead, doesn’t he?).
“Hi, Jimmy.” He turned around, surprised. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.” He paused, and a strange expression crossed his face. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long?” ”
She gave him a little smile. “Nahh, don’t worry about that.” She moved closer to him. “How’s your research going?”
He looked away from Kasie and focused on the captain’s battered body. “There’s actually a lot to say about Captain Myers. She was slashed—probably with a blade or a knife—and she tried to defend herself by striking her attacker, to the point of injuring her wrist. I admit I’d have a hard time saying whether her fingers were twisted by the force of her blows or by her killer, but if that’s the case, he shot her right after that with three bullets to the chest.”
“That’s awful. ”
“Actually, that’s not all.” Jimmy gently took the captain’s arm to show it to Kasie. Kasie opened her mouth and then closed it immediately, trying to hide her astonishment. Captain Myers’s forearm was covered in blood crusts, the small cuts forming a sequence of numbers: 8-2-6-8
“The same numbers that are giving me trouble—if only I could figure out what they mean.” She couldn’t help but say it as she rubbed her temples; her frustration was returning once again, giving her a headache.
“Didn’t you understand what that means?” Jimmy asked innocently. “No, and I can assure you I tried: it’s not a code, it’s not a sign of cartel membership, it’s not a mark left on their victims, it’s not a place, and it’s certainly not a treasure. ” She sighed inwardly; she would have liked to be more energetic, as usual, but exhaustion was almost preventing her from thinking clearly. “You should get some rest, Kas,” Jimmy said gently, offering her a sympathetic smile. “No one will blame you for resting after all the work you’ve put in these past few days—or even weeks.”
She gave him a mischievous smile in return. “Well, I’m going to take your advice right away and head over to the lab, then.” She hurried toward the elevator, stifling a yawn.
Jimmy found himself alone (or at least the only living person) in the autopsy room.
“Well, that’s enough of that—I’ve got some work to finish.”
---
“Ugh, this guy’s nowhere to be found, but there are hundreds of articles about him and his men.” McGee was scrolling through every article on Giraldo, tapping his fingers on his desk with a scowl on his face. “But he’s not even the leader of Amanzica; how come we have more information on him than on his boss?” Parker watched McGee’s screen over his shoulder, her lips pressed together.
“I don’t know. It’s probably because even though Giraldo isn’t his right-hand man, he’s still one of his closest subordinates,” McGee said skeptically. “Besides, ” Parker added, “You have to admit that Giraldo cleans up after the organization and does the dirtiest work, ridding them of occasional troublemakers, spies, and the police—not to mention the fact that he manages all the trafficking and smuggling over there; if there’s one person Amanzica must know, it’s him.”
“So if we catch him, the whole cartel will come after us.” McGee’s eyes scanned one of the articles displayed on his computer, and the weight in his chest only grew heavier as he realized that the stakes in this case would cost them far more than they had expected.
Amanzica didn't just run smuggling and drug trafficking operations; they ran the entire country, dominating certain regions of Colombia that had rallied to their cause, controlling other criminal organizations—and even some members of the police—and exerting control over people and their property.
A shiver ran down McGee’s spine. “And certain regions and people are under their protection in exchange for services. Which means they could send them to slow down the investigation as soon as they find out.” Parker was slightly more tense than before, though he was trying to hide it. “So we can’t trust anyone except maybe a few of their victims.”
“If They Speak”
They fell silent, the two men taking in the calm and the almost subdued lighting of the offices, despite the palpable tension in the air. Parker finally sat down in his chair, slumping his full weight into it, his head thrown back against the backrest and his jaw clenched. McGee thought back to Jess’s words about their team leader’s strange behavior. Should he ask him about it? The little voice in the back of his head feared that Jess might be right, judging by the way Parker was staring at the ceiling—his eyes slightly ringed from lack of sleep, lost in the void, and his body looking almost weary, as if he’d exerted considerable physical effort. Did Parker really know more about this case than they did, or was it because Jess had unwittingly planted doubt in his mind?
Questions raced through his head, the words inexplicably stuck in his throat.
“Parker”
The team leader blinked, snapping out of his daze.
“Hm?”
“Is it that…” McGee trailed off as Parker looked him straight in the eye, feeling her scrutinizing gaze on him.
If the words had been hard to say before, they died on his lips before he even finished his sentence, leaving it hanging. McGee bit his tongue and swallowed hard. Yet he wasn’t afraid of his team leader—this man was as much his friend as he was part of his family.
He looked up to see that the other man was still staring at him curiously.
“Nothing,” Parker said, eyeing him (without malice), one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, Parker asked a question that caught him off guard, given the slight tension in the air.
“Want to go grab a bite to eat? ”
McGee looked at him, surprised by the sudden change of subject, but readily agreed. “I guess so.”
They ended up at a café open 24 hours a day near a busy street, which was fairly empty given the hour. They were greeted by a waiter with eyes ringed by dark circles, and were seated at a small table where the only light came from the soft glow of the lamps, enveloping them in a bubble where only calm reigned.
Unsurprisingly, Parker ordered a pastry—an apple turnover—along with a hot drink, while McGee simply had a coffee, slightly bored by the limited choices on the menu.
The two men sat facing each other in a comfortable silence, despite the strange feeling that neither was revealing their true thoughts—a feeling that somehow weighed on their reactions. Both McGee and Parker were doing their best to react in a measured way so as not to arouse the other’s suspicion, even though after a few minutes they realized that avoiding the conversation would only make the situation worse, so the two men cautiously broached the subject, trying to do so as delicately as possible.
“So… Parker,” McGee began. “I’d like to know something about this case.”
Parker gave him a look that encouraged him to continue. “Do you know something about this investigation that we don’t know? I’m not saying this to accuse you of anything, but I get the feeling you’re hiding something from us, and I’m not the only one on the team who thinks so.”
He didn’t expect to tell her everything all at once, but it was better to do it now rather than during a major disagreement between the two of them.
Parker sighed—more out of apprehension than annoyance—at the thought of how this conversation would unfold. “I do know a few… little details about Amanzica.” He paused, hesitating to reveal the truth, but immediately changed his mind, responding with a provisional excuse: “Listen, McGee, maybe I’ll tell you when everyone’s back, but it’s still a bit sensitive right now—it’s, how should I put it… a little complicated, and I need to figure out if it’s really helpful to the investigation.” ” His words sounded both sincere and hollow, doing nothing to dispel the doubt that hung over him
“Are you really sure these aren’t important enough details to talk about right now?” the younger man asked kindly, even though the older man gave him an offended look. “I was just asking,” the green-eyed man said quickly with a slight chuckle. Reactions like this from Parker helped him relax a little and ease the tension in his stiff limbs.
Seeing that the older one didn’t want to elaborate further (and wouldn’t have anyway), the younger one decided to change the subject, not wanting to disrupt the lighter atmosphere that had returned; the place now seemed more pleasant than when they first arrived.
---
Nick had already asked about ten passersby what they knew about Amanzica, making sure to show them Kasie’s photo; not surprisingly, none of them gave him any concrete answers: some seemed flustered, while others were wary of his questions and the tattoo.
Nick obviously understood that it was risky to question civilians on his own in a place where most people were under the control of those being investigated by NCIS, but he had to admit that he wanted this case to move forward—especially if he could take credit for its success.
He was walking briskly down an alley lined with buildings covered in colorful graffiti, illuminated by the dim light of the streetlamps; the area was deserted at this hour. He’d been wandering the streets for a good half hour now ever since he’d passed a group of young people playing and playfully bickering, when Nick suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching him. He carried on as if nothing were wrong so as not to let the curious onlookers know that he’d spotted them.
Nick turned into a tiny alley and cursed under his breath when he saw at the end of it that it was a dead end. He stopped and waited a few seconds to see if anything would happen with his pursuers; seeing nothing, he turned around.
But the sudden sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him left him no time to wonder, and Nick automatically assumed a defensive stance, ready to attack. Six men surrounded him; one of them lunged at him, his every movement fluid and precise, his amber eyes piercing Nick with a clear warning.
Torres could have easily overpowered three people, but six men—all of whom fought as if they’d been born to do just that—proved a bit more complicated than expected: while two attacked him, three held him down, and the last blocked any escape route. They rained blows down on him, each one more powerful than the last; Nick was starting to struggle to fight back, as simply staying awake was already a colossal effort. The barrage of blows wrung groans of pain from him, preventing him from thinking clearly, his eyes gradually closing against his will.
The man with the amber eyes had pulled the phone out of Nick’s pocket and smashed it in front of him, and as a final farewell, he crouched down and whispered, “Sorry, but it’s our job.” He lost his resigned smile, his eyes locking directly with Nick’s. “Next time, don’t get in Giraldo’s way. ”
The man stood up and walked away as if nothing had happened; the others did the same, leaving Nick alone, sprawled against the wall.
Before he lost consciousness, one last thought crossed his mind: maybe he should have come with Jess and waited for morning to finally break.
He closed his eyes and, with one last plaintive sigh, lost consciousness.