Miscues, Misfires and Missed Chances 4/?
Thanks, guys for all the wonderful comments and support. I'm sorry I haven't answered each one, but my daughter had unexpected and rather major dental surgery. Turns out that she had five wisdom teeth and number five tore through into her nasal cavity on that side. It's been a slow recovery.
Fornell walked into the conference room with two cups of coffee, handing one to the seated man. "Here you go, Palmer."
"Thanks, Agent Fornell." Jimmy gratefully took the offered cup, wrapping his fingers around it to feel the warmth soak into his hands. He was in a clean pair of scrubs, his earlier clothes now tucked away into an evidence bag, but he could still feel the dried blood on his hands no matter how often he washed them. "Have we heard anything, how's McGee?"
"Still in surgery. Under the circumstances, I suppose that's a good thing."
Jimmy's head bobbed up and down as his nerves came to the forefront. "Yeah, the way he was bleeding, I was afraid he wasn't going to last long enough to make it to an operating table. I've never seen anything like that. Our patients have stopped bleeding by the time we get them."
"All right, let's talk about what you did see." Fornell sat down across the table from Jimmy and set out a digital recorder. "Start at the beginning, but first state your name and your position here at NCIS."
He leaned closer to the device. "I'm Jimmy, umm, James Palmer and I'm the assistant to the Medical Examiner here at NCIS."
"Tell us everything that lead up to what occurred tonight, Mr. Palmer."
"Umm, okay, Dr. Mallard made the decision to not do the autopsies tonight because it was so late, but he did remove a bullet from one of the victims for Abby to start processing, umm, that's Abby Sciuto, our forensic scientist. He asked me to take the bullet up to her and then he left for the night. I took a few minutes to close everything up so I wouldn't have to come back down. The elevator was in use by then, so I took the stairs. Wow."
When he stopped, Fornell prompted him to keep going. "Wow?"
"It must have been McGee in the elevator. If I'd been a few seconds faster, it would have been me in the elevator and Tim using the stairs, then I'd have been the one..." Jimmy's voice faltered and then he shook himself to get back on track. "Well, from the stairs, I had to come down the hallway. I could hear the music coming from the lab. It was loud, but not louder than normal. I saw McGee walking towards the door to the lab and all of a sudden the music got way loud, I mean, hurt my ears all the way out there kind of loud. McGee winced, well, we both did, and then he just fell. I thought he was joking at first, but he didn't even try to protect his head... and then I saw the blood."
Jimmy stopped as he struggled with the memory of seeing his friend bleeding out on the floor. Fornell gave him a moment to compose himself, then urged him to continue. "What did you do then?"
"I... I remember diving to the floor and crawling towards him. It seemed to take forever, but I could tell he'd been shot and I didn't know where the shooter was."
"Did you hear the gunfire?"
"No, I couldn't hear anything over the music." Jimmy straightened up and looked at Fornell in horror. "Why would she have turned the music up that high? It was almost as if..."
Fornell had been asking himself the same question, but now wasn't the time. "When you got to McGee, did you see or hear anything unusual? What happened then?"
"I was putting pressure on the wounds, but I needed help. It's hard to put enough pressure on both an entrance wound and an exit wound at the same time by yourself. I was yelling, screaming, as loud as I could, but nobody could hear me over the music. I had to let go of one of the wounds to get my phone. I had it pressed against my face and kept yelling 'shooting in sub-basement with wounded' over and over again until I thought they'd heard me, but I wasn't sure until help arrived."
"At any point, did you see Miss Sciuto?"
"Not until later. Ziva was helping me keep pressure on the wounds and Abby stormed out of the lab and told us that she'd clean up her own mess later."
"Clean up her own mess?"
"Yeah, that's what she said. I thought it was weird, I mean, Tim's her friend."
---NCIS---
Fornell may have been making an audio recording, but the video of the interview was streaming live into Vance's office. Once the interview was over, he turned to the man sitting across from him. "How in the hell did we get to this point, Gibbs?"
"That's what I'd like to know." Clayton Jarvis pushed away from the door and finally let his presence be known. I thought you were running a federal agency, Leon, not an out of control preschool."
Vance glanced over at Gibbs, hoping the man would keep his mouth shut. "This was an isolated occurrence, Mr. Secretary, and there's still a good possibility that it was nothing more than a tragic accident."
"What happened to the safety protocols that were in place? How could a weapon being tested in the Ballistics Lab end up hitting a man out in the hallway?" Jarvis' arms were waving about by the time he was finished. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all. It makes the entire agency look incompetent, gentlemen, and that makes me look bad."
Vance was enough of a politician to know when to stay quiet. Gibbs, not so much. "Our people are not incompetent, sir."
"Well, obviously one of them is, Gibbs. Either that, or the rumors are true and it was deliberate. You've got twenty-four hours to figure out which one it is, then I want either her resignation or her arrest warrant on my desk. Is that understood?" Jarvis glared at them both. "I expect an answer. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Mr. Secretary."
Gibbs wasn't ready to buckle quite yet. "What if we find circumstances that caused the accident?"
"Even you're not that good, Gibbs. Twenty-four hours, and it had better be damned good because in seventy-two hours the secure exercises will be finished in the Mediterranean and Admiral McGee will be back and he's going to be asking me exactly how his son was injured. You had better have given me an answer." Jarvis turned and stormed out the door, his assistants scurrying to keep up.
"That doesn't give us much time to clear her, Leon, not if the FBI is going to be dogging our heels and locking us out of our own lab."
"And McGee, what about him?"
"It will kill him if we lose Abby over this. Besides, you saw that wound - they're going to have him pumped so full of painkiller for the next few days he won't even know what's going on. Let's get this settled so we can concentrate on him when he's ready for us."
---NCIS---
Dr. Fuller stood in the shadows, watching the patient. He hadn't expected Agent McGee to start moving around so soon, crying out in pain, as the nurses tried to soothe him. He certainly hadn't planned on the man surviving, and that left him with another problem. The staff was assuming that the patient was already receiving the ordered level of post-op morphine and had documented his complaints of pain. If he were to suddenly find relief, it might arouse suspicion. Fuller felt the unused vial in his pocket and realized just how much medication would be ordered for the injured man. Maybe it was a good thing that he'd survived so far. Decision made, Fuller moved closer as he counted down the time before Agent McGee would be put on a morphine pump. He'd just have to clock a few extra hours to make sure he was on duty at the right time.
Inside the recovery room, Tim twisted the thin blanket under his hand. "Please, it hurts."
The nurse bent over and checked the incision and the drains. "Mr. McGee, you just had major surgery, some discomfort is to be expected. If you keep tensing up, you'll just make it worse." Satisfied, she left the room, passing Fuller on her way out. "For a federal agent, I'd have expected him to be a little more stoic, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah." Fuller waited until she'd turned the corner before letting the smile cross his face. It looks like he'd hit the jackpot this time, for sure. There wasn't even any family or co-workers around that might start questioning the young man's care. He felt the familiar pangs that told him it was time and he locked himself into a nearby restroom to prepare his next dose.
Fornell walked into the conference room with two cups of coffee, handing one to the seated man. "Here you go, Palmer."
"Thanks, Agent Fornell." Jimmy gratefully took the offered cup, wrapping his fingers around it to feel the warmth soak into his hands. He was in a clean pair of scrubs, his earlier clothes now tucked away into an evidence bag, but he could still feel the dried blood on his hands no matter how often he washed them. "Have we heard anything, how's McGee?"
"Still in surgery. Under the circumstances, I suppose that's a good thing."
Jimmy's head bobbed up and down as his nerves came to the forefront. "Yeah, the way he was bleeding, I was afraid he wasn't going to last long enough to make it to an operating table. I've never seen anything like that. Our patients have stopped bleeding by the time we get them."
"All right, let's talk about what you did see." Fornell sat down across the table from Jimmy and set out a digital recorder. "Start at the beginning, but first state your name and your position here at NCIS."
He leaned closer to the device. "I'm Jimmy, umm, James Palmer and I'm the assistant to the Medical Examiner here at NCIS."
"Tell us everything that lead up to what occurred tonight, Mr. Palmer."
"Umm, okay, Dr. Mallard made the decision to not do the autopsies tonight because it was so late, but he did remove a bullet from one of the victims for Abby to start processing, umm, that's Abby Sciuto, our forensic scientist. He asked me to take the bullet up to her and then he left for the night. I took a few minutes to close everything up so I wouldn't have to come back down. The elevator was in use by then, so I took the stairs. Wow."
When he stopped, Fornell prompted him to keep going. "Wow?"
"It must have been McGee in the elevator. If I'd been a few seconds faster, it would have been me in the elevator and Tim using the stairs, then I'd have been the one..." Jimmy's voice faltered and then he shook himself to get back on track. "Well, from the stairs, I had to come down the hallway. I could hear the music coming from the lab. It was loud, but not louder than normal. I saw McGee walking towards the door to the lab and all of a sudden the music got way loud, I mean, hurt my ears all the way out there kind of loud. McGee winced, well, we both did, and then he just fell. I thought he was joking at first, but he didn't even try to protect his head... and then I saw the blood."
Jimmy stopped as he struggled with the memory of seeing his friend bleeding out on the floor. Fornell gave him a moment to compose himself, then urged him to continue. "What did you do then?"
"I... I remember diving to the floor and crawling towards him. It seemed to take forever, but I could tell he'd been shot and I didn't know where the shooter was."
"Did you hear the gunfire?"
"No, I couldn't hear anything over the music." Jimmy straightened up and looked at Fornell in horror. "Why would she have turned the music up that high? It was almost as if..."
Fornell had been asking himself the same question, but now wasn't the time. "When you got to McGee, did you see or hear anything unusual? What happened then?"
"I was putting pressure on the wounds, but I needed help. It's hard to put enough pressure on both an entrance wound and an exit wound at the same time by yourself. I was yelling, screaming, as loud as I could, but nobody could hear me over the music. I had to let go of one of the wounds to get my phone. I had it pressed against my face and kept yelling 'shooting in sub-basement with wounded' over and over again until I thought they'd heard me, but I wasn't sure until help arrived."
"At any point, did you see Miss Sciuto?"
"Not until later. Ziva was helping me keep pressure on the wounds and Abby stormed out of the lab and told us that she'd clean up her own mess later."
"Clean up her own mess?"
"Yeah, that's what she said. I thought it was weird, I mean, Tim's her friend."
---NCIS---
Fornell may have been making an audio recording, but the video of the interview was streaming live into Vance's office. Once the interview was over, he turned to the man sitting across from him. "How in the hell did we get to this point, Gibbs?"
"That's what I'd like to know." Clayton Jarvis pushed away from the door and finally let his presence be known. I thought you were running a federal agency, Leon, not an out of control preschool."
Vance glanced over at Gibbs, hoping the man would keep his mouth shut. "This was an isolated occurrence, Mr. Secretary, and there's still a good possibility that it was nothing more than a tragic accident."
"What happened to the safety protocols that were in place? How could a weapon being tested in the Ballistics Lab end up hitting a man out in the hallway?" Jarvis' arms were waving about by the time he was finished. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all. It makes the entire agency look incompetent, gentlemen, and that makes me look bad."
Vance was enough of a politician to know when to stay quiet. Gibbs, not so much. "Our people are not incompetent, sir."
"Well, obviously one of them is, Gibbs. Either that, or the rumors are true and it was deliberate. You've got twenty-four hours to figure out which one it is, then I want either her resignation or her arrest warrant on my desk. Is that understood?" Jarvis glared at them both. "I expect an answer. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Mr. Secretary."
Gibbs wasn't ready to buckle quite yet. "What if we find circumstances that caused the accident?"
"Even you're not that good, Gibbs. Twenty-four hours, and it had better be damned good because in seventy-two hours the secure exercises will be finished in the Mediterranean and Admiral McGee will be back and he's going to be asking me exactly how his son was injured. You had better have given me an answer." Jarvis turned and stormed out the door, his assistants scurrying to keep up.
"That doesn't give us much time to clear her, Leon, not if the FBI is going to be dogging our heels and locking us out of our own lab."
"And McGee, what about him?"
"It will kill him if we lose Abby over this. Besides, you saw that wound - they're going to have him pumped so full of painkiller for the next few days he won't even know what's going on. Let's get this settled so we can concentrate on him when he's ready for us."
---NCIS---
Dr. Fuller stood in the shadows, watching the patient. He hadn't expected Agent McGee to start moving around so soon, crying out in pain, as the nurses tried to soothe him. He certainly hadn't planned on the man surviving, and that left him with another problem. The staff was assuming that the patient was already receiving the ordered level of post-op morphine and had documented his complaints of pain. If he were to suddenly find relief, it might arouse suspicion. Fuller felt the unused vial in his pocket and realized just how much medication would be ordered for the injured man. Maybe it was a good thing that he'd survived so far. Decision made, Fuller moved closer as he counted down the time before Agent McGee would be put on a morphine pump. He'd just have to clock a few extra hours to make sure he was on duty at the right time.
Inside the recovery room, Tim twisted the thin blanket under his hand. "Please, it hurts."
The nurse bent over and checked the incision and the drains. "Mr. McGee, you just had major surgery, some discomfort is to be expected. If you keep tensing up, you'll just make it worse." Satisfied, she left the room, passing Fuller on her way out. "For a federal agent, I'd have expected him to be a little more stoic, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah." Fuller waited until she'd turned the corner before letting the smile cross his face. It looks like he'd hit the jackpot this time, for sure. There wasn't even any family or co-workers around that might start questioning the young man's care. He felt the familiar pangs that told him it was time and he locked himself into a nearby restroom to prepare his next dose.