Chapter Text
The elevator's soft chime as the doors opened pulled Tony from a daydream. Dark circles under his eyes testified to his short night and the weariness that lay upon him like a lead blanket. The previous evening, he had been stuck interrogating a suspect until late. It wasn't until around 10:30 that the suspect had confessed. With that, after weeks of work, they had finally managed to convict a gang of Marines who were smuggling blood diamonds into the country during their operations. Tiredly, he stepped out of the elevator and headed towards his desk. His first glance every morning was at the desk opposite. Ziva's dark eyes met his; she, too, seemed to have slept little, but for her, that was more the rule than the exception. Her demons had been haunting her at night for months. They had spoken about it a few times, very superficially, because she hadn't allowed anything more. She was Ziva, after all. He gave her time; perhaps she would open up to him eventually, at least he hoped so.
His next glance went to his boss's desk, which was empty as usual, and then to the right, but McGee wasn't at his desk either.
"Good morning. Didn't sleep well?" he asked Ziva, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to be alone with her. She smiled weakly.
"You don't exactly look your best either," she replied.
"I just got a call. We have a visitor," Gibbs said simply as he came around the corner, and his two agents turned their eyes on him.
"A visitor, Boss?" Tony asked.
"Are you deaf today, Dinozzo?" he snapped. Ziva's gaze met her partner's. He must have slept badly too. Tony smiled as he read her expression. After everything they had been through together, they could communicate without words. Just a few glances and it was clear what the other was thinking.
“Sorry, Boss. I meant, of course: Which visitor?”
“No one we need at this hour,” Gibbs replied, raising his coffee to his lips, when the elevator’s familiar beeping drew everyone’s attention to the opening doors.
“Gibbs! What has your team been up to now?”
"Fornell," Gibbs snapped at the FBI agent, who strode briskly toward the desks. Tony's eyes met Zivas's, and with a slight nod toward McGee's desk, he asked her where the young agent was. She shrugged almost imperceptibly but quickly typed a message on her cell phone under the desk. Whatever this was about, he'd better not miss it.
"So what's going on?" Fornell asked again, addressing Gibbs directly.
"You tell me. You barge into my office at eight in the morning without warning."
"My director sent word to meet me here," Fornell explained.
"Here? At NCIS? Doesn't the FBI have its own conference rooms anymore?" Tony asked quickly. Gibbs stepped beside him and tapped him on the back of the head.
"Thanks, Boss," he whispered through his teeth.
“McGee!” Gibbs shouted across the office, making the young agent jump as he had just swung himself behind his desk.
“Why aren’t you at your post?”
“Sorry, Boss, Abby needed me.”
“Your people lack discipline,” Fornell laughed in Gibbs’ direction, earning a lethal glare. For the next thirty seconds, the two men simply stared at each other. No one else in the room dared to make a sound or even breathe.
“Ah, how nice that you’re already here, Agent Fornell,” interrupted Director Vance as he came down the stairs. All eyes turned to him and the man at his side. Tony, Ziva, and McGee jumped to their feet and stood beside Gibbs as Director Vance and the stranger approached them.
“Your director sends his regards, Agent Fornell. He would have liked to be here himself, but something came up. But he assured me you would help our guest with his problem. I have a very important video conference in five minutes.” Vance turned to leave, but turned back again on the stairs.
“Oh, and Gibbs. Full cooperation, understood?” Gibbs nodded. As soon as the director was out of sight, Fornell and the stranger's faces lit up.
“Kurt,” Fornell said, patting him on the broad shoulder.
“It's been far too long. How long? Fifteen years?” The two men smiled broadly at each other. Tony's gaze met Ziva's again. What's going on here? He tilted his head slightly. I have no idea. But this is going to be good. He had to agree with her; whatever it was, it could only be interesting.
“Would someone please explain what's happening here?” Gibbs asked in his gruff tone, which drew both men's attention.
"Agents Gibbs, David, McGee, and Dinozzo, this is Agent Kurt Weller. He heads the FBI's New York office." Gibbs sensed Tony was about to make another stupid joke about the availability of conference rooms and stopped him with a raised hand, a threatening gesture, even before he'd taken a breath. His agent remained silent.
"As much as I'm pleased to have you here, Agent Weller, I suggest you move your reunion with Fornell to the FBI building."
"I'm not just here because of T.C., Agent Gibbs." Tony's eyebrows shot up.
T.C.? Ziva's gaze met his. I didn't even know he had a first name. Tony stifled a laugh. He doesn't just have a first name, he has a nickname!!!
"Okay, well then. What can NCIS do for you?"
"My team is working as a special unit on a very...special matter. Top secret. We've come across a problem that falls more within your purview than ours. Due to the circumstances, we can't discuss it here. Could you and your team accompany me?"
"What kind of situation are we talking about?" Gibbs asked dryly.
"This is one of those things I'd rather show you than explain. But for that, we need to go to New York. It shouldn't take more than a few days. Your director has already discussed it with mine and given the go-ahead." Gibbs considered this for a moment before turning to his team.
"Tony and Ziva, pack your bags, you have forty minutes. McGee, you stay here in case we need information." The young agent wanted to argue, his eyes showed, but he held back and nodded silently.
"T.C.—Agent Fornell—can serve as your contact, Agent McGee. It can sometimes be difficult to reach my team," Agent Weller continued.
"Departure in an hour!" Gibbs called after his two agents, who dashed toward the elevator.
"Oh, you don't have to drive. The FBI plane is waiting for us at the airport," Agent Weller announced. Tony grinned from ear to ear.
"Of course the FBI has a plane," he said as the elevator doors closed. Ziva grinned too.
"Be glad. The alternative would be a five-hour car ride with Gibbs." He shuddered.
An hour later, they were sitting in a small but spacious plane, listening to the engine as it took off.
“Then tell us about your top-secret mission, Agent Weller,” Gibbs said.
“A few years ago, we found a woman in a bag. Naked, disoriented, with no memory, and covered in tattoos. But they weren't just ordinary tattoos; they were a thousand little secrets. Coordinates, case numbers, picture puzzles. Every tattoo we deciphered led us to an arrest. Corrupt politicians, arms smuggling, human trafficking, and so on. My team has been working exclusively on these tattoo-related cases ever since.”
“What became of the woman?” Ziva asked.
“She came to us as Jane Doe; her memories had been systematically erased with medication. Over the past few years, though, we've been able to learn almost everything about her. But I'd prefer she tell you herself.”
“We'll be meeting her?” Gibbs asked.
“She's part of my team.”
“As a civilian?”
“It's a bit more complicated than that, but as I said, it's better to discuss it when we get there.”
It wasn't long before the plane began its descent. The four were met by two black SUVs, typical of the FBI, which took them directly to the station. The elevator ride was quick, and soon the doors opened to a bright, open-plan office. A few desks stood along the sides, and in the center were large monitors displaying a screensaver.
"McGee is going to be so jealous when we tell him," Tony whispered to Ziva. A woman and a man stood in the middle of the room, directly in front of the monitors, watching the small group enter.
"These are Agent Zapata and Reade; they're on my team." Together, they left the office and went down a corridor. Another door later, and they were standing in the middle of a windowless room filled with state-of-the-art technology.
"You're right. McGee is going to be so jealous," Ziva whispered to Tony.
“Are you kidding me? This is McGeek’s wet dream.” Three other people stood in front of a large worktable with a large, recessed control panel.
“These are the NCIS agents. Agent Gibbs, David, and Dinozzo,” Kurt gestured to each one. “And these are Patterson, Rich, and Jane.” Although the woman he introduced as Jane wore long pants and a long-sleeved shirt, some of her tattoos were still visible. A large bird on the left side of her neck and a honeycomb pattern on her hand were the first things Tony noticed. She was very slim, yet looked fit, and she gave her boss a very familiar look.
“Rich Dotcom, nice to meet you,” Rich jumped toward Ziva and seemed about to hug her. Tony, who knew his partner’s reflexes all too well, blocked the inquisitive stranger with his body before Ziva could wrestle him to the ground.
“Don’t provoke the ninja, it never ends well,” he said simply, earning a grateful look from her. He smiled gently back. Then something else occurred to him.
“Wait a minute. Rich Dotcom? Really? That’s your name?” he asked Rich.
“I have a certificate if you don’t believe me. We can go and get it from my apartment together later.” Tony recoiled. That wasn’t what the guy had just said. Ziva giggled softly behind him. More than usual, Rich’s inappropriate remarks were simply ignored by his teammates.
“Could you tell us something about the case, please?” Gibbs pressed, still unsure of what he was doing there and definitely not willing to be among these odd people any longer than necessary.
Then Patterson spoke up. “I assume Kurt has already told you what this unit is about. We were able to decipher a tattoo a few weeks ago.” With that, she gestured toward a large screen on the wall, which flickered to life, displaying a full-body image of the woman standing just a few feet away—naked. The image zoomed in on the back of her right thigh. Tony's mouth dropped open at the sight that had just been on the screen, and seconds later he felt the familiar sting of a blow to the back of his head.
"Thanks, Boss," he whispered. Ziva was equally shocked and turned toward Jane.
"Um, is it okay with you that we look at this?" Jane gave a short laugh.
"It's fine, I'm used to it. For years, this agency has done nothing but stare at and analyze my body."
Patterson pointed again at the tattoo, which was now clearly magnified on the screen. It looked blurry, as if the ink had bled badly.
"We were able to calculate how the ink bled and reconstruct the image from that." She pressed a key, and the image of an eagle holding an anchor appeared.
"The emblem of the U.S. Navy," said Gibbs.
"Very good eye. By the way, the gray hair suits you perfectly; it makes you look so masculine." Rich's eager voice filled the room. Tony and Ziva stared at him in disbelief, and when Gibbs gave him a death stare, the impudent hacker fell silent immediately.
"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs. Rich didn't get enough love as a child," said Patterson.
"Hey! But so true," he replied.
"Rich, get out!" Kurt interrupted sternly. The hacker hesitated but left the room. Patterson resumed the conversation before the interruption.
"There are also some other clues, as well as coordinates and a personnel number. All of this leads us to a secret Navy base and a fleet doctor named Dr. Clover." The picture from his personnel file appeared.
"Along with this," Patterson continued, and the tattoo reappeared on the screen. Above the eagle's beak was a small row of letters.
"That's the chemical formula for Zipp."
"What's Zipp?" Ziva asked.
"The devil's brew they used to erase my memory. It has terrible side effects," Jane explained.
"Exactly. We need to find out what Dr. Clover has to do with Zipp and how the Navy fits into it. And that's where you come in, Agent Gibbs. We have no authority on Navy bases, especially not the secret ones."
"This all seems very flimsy to me, building something on a picture of what your agent has on her leg," the experienced agent explained. This was way outside his comfort zone.
“Let’s present some of our solved cases. Maybe then you’ll understand us better,” Kurt suggested. They spent the next few hours studying tattoos on Jane’s body, much to Tony’s delight and Ziva’s dismay. Afterward, they both had headaches and were glad to get out of the office. Together, they sat on a bench outside the FBI building and enjoyed the brief respite Gibbs had granted them.
“This is absolutely insane,” Ziva said.
“I don’t know. You can’t make up a story like that. Imagine someone erasing your memory and using you as a blank canvas just to send puzzles to the FBI.” Ziva looked down at the ground.
“Sometimes I wish someone could erase one or two of my memories.” Images of Somalia flashed through her subconscious. Tony put his arms around her, pulled her close so she rested her head on his chest, and gently kissed her hair. This way of comforting her had become so normal for both of them that they didn't mind being seen by others. He was more than aware of the ghosts that haunted her, and even though he still felt helpless, he knew he could comfort her. For a moment she listened to his heart, then she sat up again.
“Would you like some coffee? There’s a stand over there,” he asked. She nodded. With that, Tony set off. A short time later, Jane sat down next to Ziva on the bench.
“Hey. I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you with all the information. This whole thing can be very overwhelming.”
“I believe it. It must be hard.”
“At first, I still saw myself as a victim. But the memories came back bit by bit, and I grew stronger with each one. And I realized that this was my chance at a real life.”
“A real life?” She smiled.
“Kurt left out all the personal details again, didn’t he? My parents were missionaries in Africa. After my brother and I witnessed their brutal murder, we ended up in an illegal orphanage. From there, a crazy woman adopted us, brought us to the States, and trained us to be warriors. She founded a large organization with the plan to plunge the entire USA into chaos and then repopulate it with her own people. These were also the people who erased my memory, tattooed me, and abandoned me. I was a different person back then. I made peace with who I was and what I did, and I started over.”
“That’s why the name,” Tony remarked, having returned midway through the story. He handed Ziva her coffee and stood beside her, as the bench didn’t have enough room for three.
“Yes, I was born Alice, then became Remy, and the FBI called me Jane Doe. And I kept the name because I’m neither Alice nor Remy. I wanted to believe I could be the woman Kurt saw in me, and I did.” Ziva’s gaze shifted to her partner. Something’s going on, isn’t it? He grinned briefly. Definitely.