Blood Lines (39 page)

“Sir,” the officer said as he held up a hand and kept the other on his gun butt, “I'm afraid you're going to have to stay with the scene.”

Shel ignored the man and rolled on by. He knew the policemen weren't going to fire on him. They might not like the fact that he had disobeyed them, but they weren't going to shoot him.

One of the police cars pulled out of the parking lot and followed Shel with his lights on.

Shel didn't care. Victor Gant was headed south, so south was where Shel was going to head. He just hoped he found the man, but he didn't know what he was going to do with him when he caught up with him.

Shel was so focused on the idea of finding Victor Gant that he didn't see the police car swing out in front of him until it was almost too late. He jammed on the brakes and managed to bring the Jeep to a stop moments before it would have slammed into the squad car. Before he even had a chance to put the Jeep in reverse, the cop was out of the car, gun drawn.

“Stand down, Gunnery Sergeant,” the cop yelled. “I am placing you under arrest.”

Fuming, Shel realized he had no choice. He put the vehicle in park and resigned himself to the fact that Victor Gant was most likely going to escape—again.

>> NCIS Offices

>> Camp Lejeune, north carolina

>> 1843 Hours

When Will entered his office, he found Shel waiting for him.

The big Marine stood impassively at the window and stared out at the camp. His sunglasses covered his eyes. Max lay at his feet. After being remanded to NCIS custody by the Jacksonville PD, Shel had returned to camp. He now wore Marine cammies, complete with the uniform hat. Evidently he'd taken time to shower, shave, and get his kit together. A duffel bag sat beside one of the chairs in front of Will's desk.

Like an automaton, Shel spun expertly and saluted Will. He held the salute until Will returned it.

“At ease,” Will said.

Effortlessly Shel relaxed into parade rest.

Will pointed at the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a load off.”

“Thank you, sir,” Shel said. “But I'd prefer to stand.”

“I'd like to sit,” Will said, feeling a little irritable, “and I'd like not to have to twist my head off to look at you.”

Shel moved to the front of the desk and stood silently.

“That's not a whole lot better,” Will said.

“I was thinking we could make this a short conversation,” Shel said.

Will studied Shel. They'd been friends through their work at the NCIS for years. Will had trained Shel in a lot of the crime scene investigation techniques. Shel had helped Will work on his fighting skills and pistol marksmanship, neither of which was imperative aboard an aircraft carrier.

“You left a crime scene today.” Will flipped open a yellow legal pad to the notes he'd taken earlier.

“Yes, sir. I was in pursuit of the men from that scene.”

“The pursuit was already in hand. We'd coordinated that aspect of the operation through the Jacksonville PD.”

“I understand that, sir. Remy had control of the crime scene. Only one of us was needed.”

“In your opinion, Gunnery Sergeant,” Will said, responding to the military slant Shel was insisting on keeping. “I gave orders for you to stay there.”

“I disobeyed those orders,” Shel said. “I'd appreciate leniency.”

“Do you want to tell me why you left?”

“I didn't want Victor Gant to get away.”

“One man wasn't going to make a difference,” Will said.

“Sir, I am a Marine. As a Marine, I'm trained to believe that one man
can
make a difference. I'm trained to be that man.”

Will leaned back and studied Shel. Max whined a little, obviously distressed over his partner's emotional state.

And what is that emotional state?
Will wasn't sure. Over the years of their association, he'd seen Shel under all kinds of stress. But he'd never seen the man as he was now.

“I don't want to argue the validity of Marine training—,” Will began.

“Thank you, sir,” Shel interrupted.

“—but I'm also going to have to finesse this with the Jacksonville PD,” Will went on. “They're not very happy with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, sir,” Shel said. “They were already mobilized. Catching Victor Gant and his people should have been simple.”

It hadn't been, though. Victor Gant and his surviving team members had dumped their motorcycles in an alley and fled the city with some other transportation. Even the 18-wheeler they'd used to arrive at the scene had been recovered. The tractor-trailer had been stolen. The long-haul driver had been found dead on the highway nearly an hour from Jacksonville.

“Do you want to tell me about this, gunney?” Will asked.

“About what, sir?”

Will's irritation deepened. “How Victor Gant got up inside your head.”

“No, sir.”

Will hadn't been expecting that response. He hadn't expected a direct answer either. Now that he'd asked the question so directly and gotten such a direct reply, he didn't know how he was going to move forward.

“What did Gant tell you while you were talking to him?” Will asked.

“He threatened me, sir,” Shel said.

Will thought about that. He'd been through hard and dangerous times with Shel. A threat wasn't going to ruffle the Marine's feathers.

“Threatened you?” Will repeated.

“Yes, sir.”

“I'm not convinced that's the reason you left that crime scene.”

“I wasn't aware I had to convince you in any way regarding my actions, sir.”

“I would like an explanation.”

“I wanted to apprehend Victor Gant, sir. I thought one more car in the search might help. I judged that a better use of my time.”

“Than staying behind to secure the crime scene.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Victor Gant got away.”

“I'm aware of that, sir. I did what I could do.”

Will sighed. “I'm not blaming his escape on you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“I don't believe Victor Gant threatening you would be enough to make you disobey an order.”

Shel looked troubled for just a moment. “I don't know how to get you to believe in my disobedience, sir.”

Frustration chafed at Will. Shel had closed down on him—lock, stock, and barrel—and Will didn't know why.

“About my punishment, sir,” Shel said.

“I didn't say there was going to be punishment,” Will replied.

Shel nodded. “I just figured—”

“You figured wrong, gunney,” Will said sharply. “Maybe you need to realize that you're not the only one who can throw away the playbook when it doesn't suit you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Will let out a pent-up breath. “The issue at hand is what to do with you.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Thank God,
Will thought. “Yes.”

“In addition to myself, Victor Gant also threatened my family. I've got some leave coming—”

That was an understatement. Shel was a Marine 24-7. There wasn't a person on the NCIS team who logged more hours or had more leave coming.

“—and I'd like to use some of it,” Shel went on. “I want to go back home. For a little while.”

“We need you here,” Will said.

Shel was silent for a moment. “I understand, sir. But I think maybe I was too hasty in coming back to full duty. Today, during that fracas, I hurt my shoulder. I think maybe I should rest it.”

“I can put you on a desk for that,” Will pointed out.

“There are plenty of desk jockeys,” Shel replied. “So there shouldn't be any reason to stand in the way of my request for leave. Sir.”

Will knew he'd been neatly outmaneuvered. He didn't feel like being civil about it. Nor did he want to let Shel go when he was obviously dealing with harsh circumstances.

The fact of the matter was, though, Will didn't have a viable reason to deny the request.

“You'll need to fill out leave papers,” Will said.

Shel reached into a pocket and took out a folded mass of papers. He handed them over.

Will took them and dropped them onto the desk without looking at them.

“Shel,” he said, “I'm your friend.”

“Yes, sir. I've always thought of you that way.”

“As your friend, I'm asking you what's going on.”

For a moment, uncertainty wavered on Shel's face. “I appreciate that, sir. I do. But I don't have anything to say that I haven't already told you.”

Will looked at the dark lenses of Shel's sunglasses. No answers lurked there. And in the end there was nothing else he could do.

“You're dismissed, gunney,” Will said.

“Thank you, sir.” Shel fired off a crisp salute. After Will returned it, Shel pivoted a perfect 180 degrees and left the room.

Godspeed,
Will thought. Then he offered up a small prayer and asked God to watch over his friend while he was gone. Letting people go when they were determined to walk into the jaws of trouble was always one of the hardest things to do.

38

>> NCIS Offices

>> Camp Lejeune, north carolina

>> 1909 Hours

“Did I just see Shel leave carrying a duffel?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah,” Will said as they walked through the hallway toward the main computer area.

“Where's he going?”

“Home.”

“Why?” Maggie sounded unbelieving.

“He asked for leave to go home.”

“Why would he want to go home? He never asks for leave.”

“I'm aware of that,” Will said.

“Did he give you a reason?”

“I asked.”

“And?”

“He said he had leave coming. He said he hurt his arm today. He said he felt like going home. He said Victor Gant threatened his family.”

“Do you believe any of that?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah. My answer would be all of the above.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You're smarter than that.”

“Am I?”

“Shel will always have leave coming,” Maggie said. “If he hurt his arm, Shel would rather cut it off than let you bench him to a desk under a medical restraint.”

Will had to admit that was true.

“Shel is conflicted about going home,” Maggie said.

Since she was the team profiler, Will was certain Maggie knew what she was talking about.

“And if Victor Gant threatened his family,” Maggie went on, “he'd definitely stay with us. We offer the best chance at finding out where Gant is.”

Will nodded. He couldn't argue the logic. He'd been chasing the same conjecture.

“So what's changed?” Maggie asked.

“I don't know. That's why I thought I'd ask Estrella.”

>> 1919 Hours

“Shel didn't mention anything to me about going home,” Estrella said. She sat in the ergonomic chair at her station and looked worried. “Usually he tells me everything that's on his mind.”