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Shakedown

Summary:

Timothy McGee takes control as Leon Vance is buried and the pieces come together to reveal the real mastermind behind Dearing's obsession.

Notes:

Warning: Referenced Character Death; Spoilers for NCIS S9x24 "Til Death Do Us Part"

Disclaimer: NCIS is ©2003-2012 Belisarius Productions. Created by Donald P. Bellisario and Don McGill. Produced by Belisarius Productions in association with Paramount Television (2003–06), CBS Paramount Television (2006–09) and CBS Television Studios (2009–present). Criminal Minds is ©2005-2012 The Mark Gordon Company. Produced by ABC Studios in association with CBS Television Studios. Created by Jeff Davis. Produced by Erica Messer and Mark Gordon. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: This opens the day after "Requiem for an Angel" and includes a crossover with Criminal Minds. The title comes from the Bob Seger song of the same name.

Additional Author's Note: For those finding this story via the Criminal Minds fandom, it will not make sense without reading the previous stories in the series.

Chapter Text

Timothy McGee, now officially and publicly acknowledged as the Director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, draped his suit coat over his arm and left the bedroom of his temporary quarters aboard Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling. He descended the stairs and paused at the bottom. The soft sound of voices gave him a direction to go and, with a faint smile, he turned into the living room to greet his house guests. He stopped in the entranceway to observe the visitors. Eli David smiled that enigmatic smile of his from his position beside the fireplace with Malachi in watchful attendance nearby; however, it was the quavering, softly accented voice from the sofa which caused him to bite his lip to contain his feelings. Until that very moment, he’d actually thought Jimmy had been lying to him just to allow him to maintain his focus on the job at hand. “Ducky...”

“Timothy, my dear boy...”

“No.” Tim strode across the room to press his hands on Ducky’s shoulders. “Ducky, don’t get up.” He tossed his jacket on the back of the sofa and sat down beside his friend. Like Gibbs, Ducky now looked his age. He looked diminished without the energy he usually had about him. He looked Ducky over, nothing the somber formal suit, and tilted his head to the side in question. “When did you arrive back? Are you certain you’re up to attending?”

“Indeed, Doctor Mallard, do not strain yourself.” Eli moved to join them by sitting in the nearby armchair. “Tim, are you sure it’s wise to ask me to your home?”

“Yes. You...” Tim waved a hand unable to accurately explain himself. “It’s difficult to explain, Eli, but yes.” He reached across the sofa and took Ducky’s hand. “Tell me the truth, Ducky, are you up to the funeral. I’d rather you go rest than attend it.”

“I will attend, Timothy. Leon and I had, if not a friendship, then a good working relationship. I promise I will not overdo it.” A soft familiar laugh escaped Ducky. The sound actually relaxed some of Tim’s tension. “I won't be allowed to overdo. I have it on good authority that Brenna and James will be riding herd on me.”

“James?” Tim arched an eyebrow but smiled. He knew what it meant when Ducky started addressing someone by their full name rather than by a formal title. “They won’t be the only ones riding herd on you, Ducky. I promised Jackie I’d be with her but I’m certain everyone will be watching out for you.”

“Indeed?” Ducky gave him an arch look in return. “Oh well. I must get used to it until I’m recovered. And it is indeed James. I think Mister Palmer has proven himself completely.”

“So you won’t protest my formally hiring him as your replacement and later as co-chief, if you return?”

“I was going to suggest you hire him outright. I can consult as needed.” Ducky sighed. He looked down and rolled the head of his cane around in his hand. “It’s time to pass the torch, as Jethro has done with you.”

“That particular torch goes to Tony.”

“No.” There was a firm decisiveness in Ducky’s voice. Tim gave him his full attention. “Tony is now senior lead agent and second in command. You are the new leader of the agency.”

“I know, Ducky.” Tim rose and paced a bit in the space between the sofa and the fireplace. “Not only have they announced it, even did a private little swearing in yesterday, but I’m being dragged everywhere for senseless time-wasting meetings. How did Vance get anything done?”

“The same way I do.” Eli’s voice smoothly slipped into the conversation. “Choose some trusted people and delegate.”

“Eli...” Tim began before trailing off with a tired sigh. He stopped pacing and leaned a shoulder against the wall by the fireplace. “The only people I know for certain I can trust are either hospitalized or foreign agents.”

“Hospitalized, yes, but their brains work just fine.” Eli shared a brief smile with Ducky. “Use that. Use them. Then start developing your own network of contacts and agents loyal to you.”

“I know. Tony already volunteered to do the paperwork around what he’s calling ‘necessary classes before I embarrass myself again’ whatever those are.” Tim shrugged one shoulder with a self- deprecating sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be venting like this to the two of you, but it’s been one hell of a week. Vance’s funeral is the last local one and the most formal. I’m hoping things calm down afterwards so I can start getting things done.”

“Believe it or not, you are getting things done.” Eli nodded over at Malachi. “Even being here, I have had reports. You have made a good impression in your counterparts from the other agencies. ‘Cool, calm, and nobody's patsy’ is the consensus. The President's idea of appointing you, which seemed so irrational last week, is now being considered another stroke of brilliance.”

“I doubt you have any idea how embarrassing that praise is,” Tim said. He dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment. It deeply upset him that the primary reason he held the post was a combination of supposed heroics and more senior agents being killed in the blast. “I never wanted to get this job this way.”

“But you did.” Ducky’s voice was unexpectedly stern. Tim found himself straightening his back in response to it. “And you will do your best to do it right, because that is your nature. I believe that is why you were trusted with it.”

Tim stared intently at Ducky for several minutes before shifting his gaze over to Eli. Once again the enigmatic smile had appeared but his silent question received a single answering nod. He wasn’t ready. He knew he wasn’t ready. Yet, he had a feeling no one was ever truly ready for these kinds of responsibilities, especially with the added burden of rooting out the base of a deep reaching conspiracy invading the highest levels of the government. Tim turned slightly away from his guests to stare out the window to the waiting cars. His hand came up to press against his shirt front pushing the rosary hidden beneath against his skin. He had a promise, a vow, to keep and a job to do. He nodded and dropped his hand again. He slowly turned back to face Ducky and Eli.

“Ducky? I need to know exactly what you are allowed to do. And Eli, I have a request which if it gets out could destroy my reputation before its even developed but I know what kind of work the Mossad does. Could I ask you to discretely research the remaining DC based agents and technicians? Protocol broke down and I need to know if it was solely the MCRT’s fault or if we received bad advice from somewhere else. Vance’s car should have been stripped down. We failed in that.”

“Already done.” Eli’s smile slowly morphed into a smirk. “Malachi has left the file with your assistant.”

“I owe you one for anticipating my request, Eli.” Tim gave Eli a barely there smile of his own. “I know you'll collect one day.”

“Of course. It is the nature of the business we do.” Eli stood and nodded to Malachi who started out the door to check on their car. “Time for the two of you to head off. I'll go spend time with Ziva and Gibbs. They will be most unhappy to be missing this.”

“Gibbs especially. Tony's meeting us there.” Tim crossed the room to stand beside Eli. He rested a hand on his arm and leaned closer. “You’re Ziva’s father and, I hope, becoming my friend. That makes you family in a way, Eli. Of course, you’ll stay here.”

“Just for two nights.” Eli nodded in return before starting for the door himself. “It can be explained away by our joint concern for Ziva.”

“Of course.” Tim smiled and waited until Eli was nearly at the door before calling after him. “And Eli, thank you.” He watched the older man leave, gave the always watchful Sandoval a nod, and turned back to the living room. “What the hell am I doing, Ducky? When I’m not channeling the Admiral’s attitude, I’m making guesses in the dark as to what to do.”

“Your guesses seem to be remarkably inspired, Timothy. Trust your instincts.” Ducky turned around on the sofa to face Tim. He tapped his cane once on the floor. “And, by the way, you are not channeling your father’s attitude. You just behave as you should behave for your station. You don’t realize it yet but part of you has accepted your new role.”

“My first instinct was to run away screaming. I reminded myself that my father didn’t raise an idiot and that Gibbs didn’t deal with shirkers. I did my job. Now I’m in charge of everything.” Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He glanced over his shoulder at Sandoval. The lead officer of his detail looked like he was struggling to hold back a comment, and only the rules and protocols of his position kept him quiet. “Oh, just say it, Sandoval. I’d rather you say what you’re thinking when we’re in private than stand around struggling to keep quiet. It may not be protocol but I know the details give damned good advice when allowed to.”

“All I wanted to say is that you’re nothing like your father. He has no time for any subordinate except to give them orders. He doesn’t consult anyone, especially not those below him, and that has lost him not only respect but opportunity.”

“So he has no friends and no one he can trust,” Ducky added. “You have both and a great well of goodwill to draw upon.”

Tim stared at Sandoval. Despite the fact that his detail was made up of Marines and his father was Navy, he knew that the words were the truth. He’d never really thought about the fact that the Admiral likely treated his men the way he’d been treated at home. Sixteen years of being treated like a coward and a whiner by his father left him unable to even think of how his father would be perceived by his peers and subordinates. He thought back to his childhood and some things suddenly began to make a lot more sense to him. “I...” Tim began then paused and nodded. “Thank you. I try not to think of my father but he’s come to mind more and more since this began. I really was afraid that I was starting to act like him.”

Sandoval snorted and moved further into the living room. “Your detail brags about you. His snarls.”

“Brag about me?” Tim laughed. “I get outrun by my dog.”

“And you laugh about it, you try again, and you never take your frustration out on the enlisted men.”

“So you see, Timothy, you’re the right person for the job.”

“Why in the hell would I do that?” Tim looked between the two men in true confusion. “I’m the one who can’t run long distances. Great at sprints, lousy at distance.” The mantle clock chimed softly reminding him he agreed to meet up with Jackie and the Vance children before the start of the funeral. “And now I have to go do the hard part of the job.”

“You're getting better at it, sir. But even if you don't, you try.” Sandoval stepped back into the foyer and opened the front door. “"Gentlemen, you have an official act to attend, and a friend to bury.”

“Having a DI yell at me about being beat by the dog is good incentive.” Tim waited for Ducky to join him. The sound of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of Breena and Jimmy. Tim let the others go out first and turned to Sandoval. “Thank you.”

Sandoval took a half step back into the shadows of the door before shrugging and smiling faintly. “It’s the truth.”

“Still, I needed to hear it. Don’t stop advising me, Sandoval.” Tim took a deep breath and stepped out of the residence. “One last funeral. I’m so tired of attending funerals.”

“This one is going to be difficult. I’ve been in touch with the President’s detail.” Tim heard Sandoval closing and locking the door behind them. “Press everywhere.”

“Just what we don't need.”

“They're going to take an interest. This is national news. Ignore them.” Sandoval took his customary place just to his right shoulder and slightly out of step with him. “They won’t get close enough to be offensive.”

“I know. Kate told us about the perimeters for things like this.” Reaching the car, Tim rested a hand on the top of the open door. “Let’s do this. Then we have a much harder job to do.”