Curtain Call | OPEN [Case Related]

[Tony DiNozzo]

He didn't know what it was that he had been dreaming about, but it had obviously been something good. When his phone buzzed on the night-stand beside him Tony attempted to pull together the shreds of his slumber-time fun to no avail; a call at this hour could only mean one thing. Someone was dead, and he was likely going to be one of the people working through the night to piece together the why/what/how/when/etc. Blinking in an exaggerated manner Tony groped for his cell, answering the call with a half-groggy “Say words.”

When he realised who it was on the other end of the line, DiNozzo snapped up to attention and sat up in bed, subconsciously accepting the inevitable call-out. He listened intently to what information Gibbs had, nodding even though it was an impotent action. “Right. I'll be there, Boss.” A few minutes and a strong espresso later, Tony was on his way to the scene. The JFK Centre for the Performing Arts was a place where Tony had always felt at home, being the huge patron of the arts that he was (and a 'performer' of the highest degree).

As he arrived at the service entrance in his kit and flashed his badge, though, he couldn't help but feel that it was more than a little creepy. He was instantly reminded of The Phantom of the Opera, and because he had found the victim to be larger than life while he had been actually alive, Tony found himself hoping that the guy wasn't skulking around the Centre as a part of the metaphysical realm. He rode the elevator up to the appropriate floor and was immediately confronted with the crowd in the hallway; crime scene unit, Centre staff and the like. He spotted a familiar baseball cap not too much further down the hall, and moved quickly in that same direction.

[Leroy Jethro Gibbs]

Gibbs stood apart from the unnerved Center staff, idly sipping on a grande coffee and holding a long sheet of paper aloft in front of him. He squinted at it for a good while, pulling it closer to him, and when that didn't work he pushed the paper farther away and opened his eyes wider. Failing that he glanced around to see if he could spot Ducky, to borrow his glasses, and failing that he spotted DiNozzo coming his way. He moved toward him so that by the time he got to him, he was walking the other direction, and passed him apace.

"Evening DiNozzo," he greeted simply. As he walked he passed the long paper he had been holding over to the younger man with better eyes. "Guest list," he explained without pretense, ducking under crime scene tape as he went. The buzz of the hallway faded behind them as he moved through long hallways behind the scenes of the Center. There were notably fewer people back here, and most of them were Federal Agents of one sort of another. Some wore NCIS badges - crime scene specialists, usually - but a considerably larger number wore suits and eyed the rest of the room suspiciously.

"Looks like we have company," he told DiNozzo, stopping short and turning back to the senior field agent under the pretense of having a conversation with him. As he 'talked' he turned his gaze sideways at the other Feds, who examined him in the same way. A bitter smirk pulled back half of his mouth as he recognized one of them at last, and he shook his head. "Secret Service," he finally decided. It reminded him of Kate, and being reminded of Kate did nothing for his mood.

He turned his gaze back to Tony this time, for the first time really taking a look at him. "Do you need some coffee, DiNozzo?" he asked in a soft voice. Somewhere within the confines of his own mind, a smirk had formed, but his face remained perfectly impassive. His blue eyes inspected his second-in-command shrewdly, and with amusement.

[Tony DiNozzo]

In typical Gibbs fashion Tony had no time to respond to either greeting nor information. Instead he plucked the guest list from his Boss' hand and did an about-face, moving back the way he had come like a faithful Labrador. Hefting his backpack on one shoulder and angling to look at the list he had been given, Tony crouched under the tape and kept reading. There were several Very Important People on the list that he recognised immediately, and probably more that he didn't. When they moved into the hall that was full to the brim with Feds, Tony's eyes widened a little before he looked at Gibbs who had swivelled to stand in front of his with deceptive casualness.

This was big. Like, he got that the guy had been going to perform for the President and all. But. This was Big like Notorious.

“I'll get some later,” was the initial response. His consciousness was far too caught up in the slow, sleek movement of the other agents around him. Tony had dealt with most of these guys on some level or another before; or in the very least had liaised with their agencies. But now, in the slightly less well-lit corridor that he found himself in, Tony had the distinct feeling that he was a swimmer in deep water full to the brim with hungry sharks. Things were bound to get ugly as the Service and the CIA and God only knew who else fought for control over the case. And NCIS was going to be caught right in the middle of their feeding frenzy.

He'd been up since 4 and in the office by half past, working an old case that needed the paper trail refining. It had been one helluva long day, and he had gone home and flopped onto his bed with the relish of a man who felt as though he had done the best he could be asked to do in any given 13 hour period of time. It was no wonder he looked like hell, even though it was only 8pm. The espresso he'd had before he left his apartment had been good for a momentary buzz; enough to give him the pep he needed to actually make it to the Centre in the amount of time that Gibbs would find acceptable.

“Do you think they're actually going to step off long enough for us to do our job?” he asked, peering discreetly over Gibbs' left shoulder. Then, “Is Ducky here yet?”

[evangelina archer]

Politics were not one of Evangelina’s favourite things. Being called out by her boss to the middle of a crime scene in the middle of a family evening with her son and parents was not one of her favourite things either. The crime scene in question was John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts, which in her opinion, was just a really fancy name for a place where people sang and danced. Evie had kissed her son goodbye and told him she loved him. Her father told her to go after she came back from receiving the call and there was a look on her mother’s face that indicated she was not pleased. Then again, her mother was never very pleased when she got called back after hours.

Arriving at the Center, it didn’t take long for Evie to find out where everyone was. Huge group of people in suits looking harried, stressed and angry? That was where she was supposed to be. Flashing her badge and heading towards the group, Evie went through what she knew about the victim in her mind, which wasn’t much. She knew the basics of the crime. Petty Officer Trueman was murdered just before he was supposed to entertain the President. He used to be a stand up comedian (she liked comedians, at least when they were funny) and decided to join the Navy. He received much media attention when he joined and she didn’t doubt that the media was most certainly going into a frenzy when they found out.

She didn’t spot any of her team and momentarily wondered if she was the only one that was going to be here. But as her eyes roamed over the people present, she did spot two agents from another team. “Good evening, Tony. Gibbs.” She greeted them both as she approached them. “Any one called first dibs on the case yet?” Evie was not going to be the one to wrestle for that. She left that to the more senior agents. Or the Director. But it was pretty simple to her. Petty Officer. NCIS. Done. What else was there to argue about?

[Leroy Jethro Gibbs]

"Nope," Gibbs replied quickly to the latter question, which was the only reason the group hadn't already headed into the crime scene. He hated to touch anything before Ducky got there, because the time of death was the starting point for his mental investigation. It was always the first question out of his mouth. 'Got a time of death, Duck?' There was no reason to go changing his modus operandi now.

And as for the question that came before that? He turned his blue eyes to the crowd of suits, who were now gathered around each other whispering emphatically and throwing dodgy glances at the 'junior' of the federal agencies. He tilted his head softly. "And nope," he finally answered to the former question, and then he turned his gaze back to the crowd outside the crime scene tape. He narrowed his eyes as he inspected the woman approaching them, a member of the Gold team. They would need all the help they could get on this case, with over a hundred guests to interview and another federal agency to fend off. He certainly wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth... much.

"Archer," he greeted simply with a nod. He watched her with his piercing gaze of his as she took the scene in around her, analyzing her as she analyzed the space. He glanced over his shoulder once more at the Secret Service agents and then looked back to her, for her benefit mostly, and then he shrugged. "There's not going to be any turf war," he stated simply. "Our victim, our case." Of course, it rarely worked that way in practice, but he would rather his agents look confident and ready than doing the turkey dance like the SS agents across the way. So he kept his cool, and hoped to lead by example. Archer, it seemed, was already assuming that calm, and it won her brownie points in his eyes - whatever that was worth. He lifted his chin and shot another look at the boys in suits, who all returned his stare nervously, and then he smirked and looked back at his crew.

[Tony DiNozzo]

Nodding politely at Archer, a member on the Gold Team, Tony was still almost entirely focused on the smooth circling of the Feds around them. The only other thing significant enough to be within his sphere of recognition was Gibbs, and even Gibbs was only there because, well... Gibbs was always there. He wasn't particularly surprised when Gibbs asserted authority in the matter; Tony wasn't the type of person who would ever disagree with the ex gunnery sergeant. And if Gibbs said that the case would be theirs, then he was all but ready to get a coffee and pointedly direct McGee on what to bag and tag.

Speaking of McTardy, he and Ziva were noticably absent. He had expected to make it to the scene some time after Ziva. He was sure the woman could simply teleport wherever she wanted to go, a nifty trick but one that he was unhappily not able to replicate. He had been about to ask Gibbs whether the two absent members of their team would be gracing them with their presence when he thought better of it. He was luckily distracted from his train of thought by a service lady passing with a tray of coffee styrofoam coffee cups that she was passing out.

Without a second's hesitation Tony lunged, grabbing two cups from the tray in the instant before all the other Feds swamped the poor woman. Knowing that Gibbs already had his own grande, Tony beamed and held the other out to Archer as he lifted his own to his lips. Not only was it hotter than a Talahasse summer but it also tasted like Talahasse sewage. He spit the coffee back into the cup expressively, pulling a face that left his mouth open wide so that he could cool it off.

“Haat,” he said, open-mouthed by explanation as he held his cup up in front of Archer by way of warning.

[evangelina archer]

She got nods in her direction, acknowledging her presence. Evidently Gibbs thought the same way; that the case was theirs since the victim was in the Navy. She nodded at his reply, feeling a vibration in the inside pocket of her suit jacket. Evie fished out her phone with practiced ease, noting that it was a message from her father. Or rather it was a picture message of her son making a funny face at the camera. The brunette smiled, texting back a short message before slipping her phone back into her pocket. She would give her team mates ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before she started texting them and making them wish they were here before the murder even happened. Sure, she wasn’t the most senior agent but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell her team mates off if they weren’t on a crime scene when they were required to.

Evangelina looked back up just in time to see Tony taking two cups of coffee from someone. Taking was too mild a word. Seizing? Snatching? Those were more appropriate words. She quirked a quick smile when he smiled at her, taking one of the cups from him. “Thanks.” She murmured, watching him as he took a gulp from his cup. Evie had enough experience with coffee to let others try it first. She let out a soft chuckle as the male agent spat the coffee back into his cup. “Coffee not to your taste, Dinozzo?” Evie asked, still smiling. “I can see that.” The brunette said in response to his warning.

Caffeine, unfortunately, did not affect Evie. It wasn’t because she had developed a tolerance to it. She could drink two cups of coffee before she slept and it wouldn’t keep her up at night. Evie liked to think that it was because she loved her sleep too much. She probably wouldn’t be getting any tonight if they didn’t get started on the case soon. “So how are we going to go about doing this?” The brunette asked, back to the business at hand. “Split up interviewing the guests, I presume. How many of them?” Evie had not taken a sip of her coffee; it was probably for the better.

[shortiejinete]

Victoria had been told they would be needing some extra help with McGee and Ziva out whatever it was they were doing. She grumbled, it reminded her of her CIA probie days. This was NOT something she wanted to deal with right now. She wrangled herself out of bed. She slept when she could. She kept a rather strange schedule. It wasn't like people abducted people on her schedule. She grabbed her coffee as she ran out the door and straight to the performing arts center.

She climbed out of her own Nissan Xterra before heading out to meet up with the others. She was rubbing her eyes. She headed straight for Gibbs to find out what was going on. "You better have a really good reason for calling me out here. I don't actually SEE any hostages" she snapped. Even straight out of bed the redhead was as snappy as she could be. How her day meant would depend on if her mood improved or not.

She looked around to see what had already been done on the scene. She saw Ducky with the body and she looked to Gibbs. "Since you people dragged me out of bed after one hour of sleep you mind catching me up?" she was speaking to Gibbs but honestly she could care less who gave her a sit rep into this mess. She sipped on her own coffee, this was going to be a long day.

[Leroy Jethro Gibbs]

Gibbs lifted one grey eyebrow at the SWAT team member who charged up like a bull seeing red. And people said he was cranky. He spared her all of a three second glance before turning his attention back to the two people who didn't seem so put out to be asked to do their job. Did he mind catching her up? "Nope," he replied glibly, turning his back on her and making his way for the crime scene. As he went, he pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his jacket pocket.

"Archer, until the rest of my team gets here, you're with me. Police the scene - look for casings, spatter, whatever we can find, you know the drill. Take your markers. DiNozzo," he glanced over his shoulder at his usual field agent as he pulled on one glove with a snap. "Crime scene photos. By tomorrow this scene will be full of showgirls from Las Vegas. Better not miss anything."

When he got to the doorway to the actual dressing room where Ducky and Palmer were working, he turned back to the third wheel who had the audacity to sass him before. He didn't do well with sass. He gestured to the Secret Service agents. "You stay here and make sure those guys don't contaminate my crime scene." He almost turned around but then a half-smirk stole across his face and he added over his shoulder, "Pretend they're hostages." And then he escaped into the dressing room.

"What'dya got, Duck?" he asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder as he entered the room. Very little seemed out of place in the room. There was a large vase full of flowers, no tag is if they had been placed by the Center and not sent by fans. A glass of water had been spilled across the floor, and it laid on its side several inches from the comedian's hand. The pitcher remained on his desk. His naval uniform was still hanging crisply from a hangar, and his bag of things sat on the floor. His attention, however, was turned on Ducky who was just pulling a long thermometer out of the Petty Officer's relatively un-touched body.

He looked up at Gibbs with a fairly bemused expression, as if he were unusually without clues. "Seems to have died within the last two hours. His body temperature is perfectly normal. He has no signs of a struggle." He lifted a finger before leaning forward and touching a hand to the comedian's jaw, pulling his mouth open. "There's some discoloration and swelling around his mouth as if he had some sort of allergic reaction." He then gestured and shrugged. "My best guess at this point is a death caused by anaphylactic shock." He shrugged. "The fact that he was going to be performing for the president could be... a coincidence." He looked up at Gibbs for his approval before continuing.

"I don't believe in coincidence, Duck." It was just up to them to find the clues to piece the story together.

[Alex Scott]

He stepped out of his black 2006 Dodge Charger SRT-8 seconds after parking it. The place was full of different cars now, from different government agencies. He walked past the two uniformed police officers guarding the entrance after flashing his NCIS badge.

The place is huge! And there are a lot of people too. He walked past them leisurely, observing every one of them. He took as sipped as he walked, looking for his team. He didn't mind being called in, just not this late.

"Woah, hold up there, who are you?" a police officer stopped him. Most of the people in the building was either wearing a suit or some kind of jacket emblazoned with FBI, MPDC, USSS, the whole alphabet soup. He on the other hand was wearing a white t-shirt, khaki cargo pants, and tan rough-out boots; a little different from the suits and ties.

"NCIS." he said as he slowly pulled out and held his badge for the officer to see. The officer let him through and went his way. Alex did the same. He continued to survey the scene as he looked for his team, again. They seem to be nowhere to be found.

The dressing was to his left, and seeing that a whole bunch of other people were gathered near the center, some of the other side, he decided to go there. Inside he found Gibbs talking to Ducky. He showed his badge to the agent in the doorway and silently leaned at the door and listened to the conversation. He took another sip of coffee and eyeballed the room.

Gibbs is here. Maybe it's our case then. he told himself. He turned around, looking out the room. He could see one of his teammate in the center talking with Tony. Then he turned his attention back to the dressing room, watching as Gibbs and Ducky exchanged opinions.

"So it's our case?" he asked Gibbs as soon as the two were finished talking.

[Leroy Jethro Gibbs]

Gibbs looked up at the entrance to the room, recognizing Special Agent Scott from Gold team. Any other case with less to do, Gibbs would be annoyed at having Gold Team 'help' with any investigation he was running, and arguing about who was 'lead' on this one. This time, he had no choice but to play nice. There were over a hundred guests and many more workers, stage hands, technicians, security, and more federal agents than you could shake a stick at, and every single one of them was a suspect until proven otherwise. He had his work cut out him, even with all the help from Gold Team and beyond.

That didn't mean he had to be nice, however. He would always be harder on men than he was on women. It was just part of his shtick. Some called it chivalry, others misogyny, but he had simply met fewer whiny women than he had whiny men. When one proved to be a jerk, he treated them as such. When one proved they needed a strong hand, he took it. When one did their job as well as Abby, he treated them like queens. Men rarely did their jobs as well as Abby did hers, so they rarely got treated like kings. He inspected Scott with a cool, blue gaze.

"No, it's my case," he corrected, and until Gold Team leader got there, it would remain his case. He turned his attention to the next step in their case, though, so he could set Alex to work. "You feel like interviewing people? We have over a hundred guests to get statements from, starting with the most important and working your way down." He stepped out of the room and gestured to the suits across the way. "They're gonna try to stop you, but we have jurisdiction." He looked at the ex-SEAL. "Think you can handle that?"

[Alex Scott]

Alex let out a smile. He was every bit as Callen had told him. He straighten up his posture and listened attentively to the instructions given to him. he was always like that, always wanting to get every bit of detail before doing what he was ordered to do. It was very much like combat, you have to get everything right else you end up at the shit end of things.

He nodded as he took everything in. Interviewing was not new to him. He had been doing that for some time now during his time in the teams. Back then he would have had a translator. He looked at the suits that Gibbs was referring to, then turned his attention back. "The boys from the Hoover Building?" he asked. "You say so." The FBI has always been butting head with NCIS for jurisdiction. Today is no exception.

He nodded after the final instruction and started to walk the other way but turned around. "You know Gibbs, I meant NCIS when i said our case." he said smiling. "Callen was right, you are cranky." He walked away smiling and sipping his coffee. He spotted his team member Eve Archer still with Tony.

"Tony, Eve." he said as he reached the two. "Mind if I have a copy of the guest list? Gibbs has me interviewing them."

[Tony DiNozzo]

Tony volleyed another winning smile in Archer's direction. From what he knew of her Tony liked the brunette. She was polite, concise and did what she was told to a large extent and in situations like this those qualities went a long way. When she mentioned splitting up to interview guests, Tony pulled a face. He had been about to tear the list in half and give the bottom half of lesser-dignitaries to Archer when he was saved the trouble. A loud, aggressive person cut through the crowd like a knife, with it's point honed on his Illustrious Leader. When McKiernan snapped at Gibbs Tony merely raised his eyebrows, knowing better than to make comment.

In due course, Gibbs responded in kind. Tony liked to think that his boss' quip about hostages was well delivered and he cracked a grin, an amused breath escaping him before he restrained it from becoming a true chuckle. When orders were barked Tony dipped into the bag he had brought with him to the scene and squeezed into a pair of latex gloves, just in time for their latest colleague, Alex Scott, to join them. With obvious relief he handed the guest list to Scott and slipped the strap of the crime scene camera around his neck before he entered the dressing room, nodding to Ducky before he began taking happy snaps.

The first thing he photographed was the obvious spilled glass of water on the floor. Sign of a struggle? He nodded his head at the glass and then to Archer, indicating she should bag and tag. “See if you can lift a sample of the water from carpet,” he said absently. He moved on to photographing the counter and its objects; water bottles, flowers. An overnight bag under the counter. It would obviously need to be dusted for prints, but that went without saying. Photographs systematically followed as Tony worked the grid. Door and uniform hanging from the hook on the back of it.

It was going to take him a good half hour at least in order to do a thorough job photographing all of the surface evidence, and then he'd still need to photograph the contents of the bag for the evidence log. It was going to be a really long night. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw a centre worker slipping past the door. “Wait!” he called out. “NCIS! I need your help with this investigation!” The woman backtracked a few paces, popping her head around the corner of the door curiously. Tony spoke to her in a low voice. She smiled, nodded and disappeared.

“I hope McKiernan can hold her own out there,” he mused to Archer and Scott with a sly grin. “She's a delicate flower.”

[shortiejinete]

Victoria waited until Gibbs had decided to walk away. Secret Service Right Pft? Babysitter she was not. She narrowed her eyes slightly. When he turned away she stuck her tongue out of him making a rather sour face. Yes, she could be rather childish at time. But she had to give it to him he had a sense of humor. She grabbed one of the secret service guys why the arm and spun around to block his path. "Nope sorry Don't think so, I wasn't born yesterday, You can stay here until your dismissed." she stated. Though it was then that it dawned on her. Their fingerprints were going to be all over the place.

She decided to fingerprint them on her own despite what Gibbs was going to say when she handed them to her. There was no way that their fingerprints weren't all over the place. She did just that finger printed them. They were not happy about but she just raised a brow. "I don't care you were in there weren't now weren't you?" she was pointing in the direction of the crimescene.He just kind of nodded his head, as there wasn't much that he could do with the red head standing there.

Victoria made sure to put all the fingerprints into proper order for Abs so she could put them with the rest of the evidence, she would give them to whoever was the next person was that came outside. The secret service persisted that it was their case and Victoria just smirked. "Seeing as Gibbs let you stay out here, in the dark. I don't think so" she sipped on her coffee one hand on her hip. If she could handle the SWAT team she sure as hell could handle these idiots.

[evangelina archer]

Evangelina grinned when Tony smiled at her. There was no harm in engaging in fun banter with her co-workers. Life was too short to be all serious and depressed all the time. Evie wasn’t an extremely cheery person, but she did know how to take a joke and crack a grin every now and then. The grin remained on her face when a redhead stormed up demanding to know what she was doing here when there were no hostages. Or maybe there were and NCIS didn’t know about it. Evie highly doubted that. “Gotcha.” She acknowledged Gibbs’ instructions. Canvassing the scene was the task she much preferred over interviewing. Especially since it was a list of high ranking officials in the government.

She caught Gibbs’ comment to Victoria and even she couldn’t keep the impish smile off her face. But, it was time to get back to business. Getting her stuff ready, Evie was joined by one of her fellow team mates shortly before she prepared to head into the crime scene. “Alex, nice of you to join me. At least you showed up.” Evie remarked, a slight tone of sarcasm in her voice. “Good luck interviewing the President. And if one of our probies decide to show up, bring them along.” The brunette told him, before proceeding towards Victoria. “Don’t kill any of them, honey. I think Ducky only has space for one victim in his van.” Evie winked at her, hoping to dispel any foul mood her friend had before finally entering the crime scene.

Once in, Evie observed her surroundings, noting that Tony was already off snapping crime scene photos. Working with Tony. This was a first. The brunette took a brief look at the victim, before bending down and collecting a sample just as Tony asked. Anaphylactic shock seemed a likely candidate for cause of death. Dropping the glass into one of her evidence bag, Evie stood back up and headed towards the counter. She studied the vase of flowers, looking for a tag. There was none. She’d noticed his uniform hanging from behind the door. Evie frowned slightly, before continuing to collect more evidence, like those unopened bottles of water.

The brunette looked up when she heard Tony’s voice. From the mirror, she saw him speaking to someone. “What are you up to, Tony?” She asked, bending down once more and pulling out the bag that was underneath the counter. I suppose we can safely rule out robbery. She thought wryly, as she opened it. There were a variety of things inside but Evie headed straight for the wallet. Cash, credit cards still intact. Licences and photos of what would be his family and other people. “Delicate is a way of putting it.” Evie muttered in response to Tony’s statement.