"Perfect Timing" by triskellion
Title: Perfect Timing
Character(s): Tobias Fornell
Genre(s): Drama, Gen
Word Count: 933
Fornell was feeling quite pleased with himself. He added an extra flourish signing the release form the Wichita coroner had provided. Despite the delays, today had come together perfectly.
He still couldn't believe his luck. Being in the Director's office when an important call came in wasn't usually the way to get a new case, but Fornell had been discussing a final report on a rather prestigious case. Having just shown himself competent and cautious with high profile cases and being essentially at loose ends, he'd immediately been offered the Air Force One case. Talk about being in the right place at the right time.
Even better, there was nothing that could go wrong with this case. If it did turn out to be a murder case, then Fornell would be in position to catch the President's eye, which would do wonders for his promotion prospects. If it turned out that Commander Trapp had died due to natural causes, then Fornell's promotion prospects would simply be improved for having handled a case on Air Force One. It was a win-win situation.
Sure, there had been delays, but that was understandable. Jurisdiction disputes were to be expected on a case like this. But in the end, the locals had folded and he knew he could manage the Secret Service girl, with a call to her boss if he had to. Fornell felt on top of the world.
For some reason, Miss Secret Service Agent-in-Charge had turned back before signing the paperwork and the corner was unwilling to settle for just one signature. Charging back up the stairs, Fornell yelled, “Damnit, Agent Todd, let’s get this show on the road!” He was tired of the delays chipping at his good mood.
Unfortunately, the feeling of well being that had surrounded him since the Director handed him the case vanished in an instant as the ME's younger assistant appeared at the hatch. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. We, uh, overbooked the flight,” the foolish man said jokingly even as he started pulling the door shut.
There had been a twist in his gut when Fornell had noted the two assistants to the ME. They hadn't quite seemed the type, and the questions they'd asked ... but he'd ignored the feeling in his earlier confidence. Trapped at the top of the stairs with Agents Michaels and Gregorio at his back, he yelled, “What the hell are you doing?” It did him no good as the door closed right in front of him, the surface flush with the rest of the plane no matter how he longed for a handle to reach out and yank back on. As the plane pulled away, Fornell frantically yelled, “What’s going on? Stop!” looking everywhere for a way to stop that plane even as he knew it was impossible. Everything had gone from perfect to completely wrong so fast he couldn't adjust.
Turning away, Fornell pushed past his team and ran back down the stairs to the coroner. Someone was playing a very dangerous game, and he wanted answers. “All right, do you know what the hell’s going on?” he snapped at the coroner.
“Guess Ducky decided to take the body to Washington,” the coroner replied calmly, smugly.
Fornell's gut twisted sharply at the lack of surprise on the local coroner's face. “Why did your Medical Examiner take the body to Washington?” Fornell asked desperately. He was missing something.
“I never said he was my Medical Examiner,” the coroner replied slyly.
Fornell resisted the urge to throttle the redneck with his own tie. Bad enough his case was about to fly away, but now he couldn't even get a straight answer out of a yokel nobody. He winced as the engines roared, turning Air Force One onto the runway and all but flattening those on the tarmac with the backwash. “Then who the hell’s Medical Examiner is he?” he yelled over the engines.
The coroner looked relaxed, as though the answer should be self evident. “Ducky? He works for NCIS.”
Everything fell into place, but Fornell could only stare after the plane taking off, carrying away his dreams for promotion with it. He'd been played, by a bunch of bush league feds and a redneck local coroner. It was intolerable.
“Call Resich at Langley,” he snapped at his team, turning away from the locals with only a short glare and moving quickly towards the FBI jet on the next runway. “I want full background on the NCIS ME and his assistants.”
“Who were they?” Agent Michaels asked, jogging to keep up with his boss.
Fornell rounded on him with a glare and snapped, “How the hell should I know?” before charging on towards their jet. “You saw them. Find out. NCIS can't be that big.”
Agent Gregorio had the sense to pull out his phone without asking stupid questions.
“NCIS?” Fornell snarled under his breath, trying to understand how a second rate agency could have held up the FBI and the Secret Service half a day and slipped away with the body. This 'Ducky' must have known the local coroner, so clearly NCIS wasn't without contacts. But neither was Fornell.
He pulled out his phone as he charged up the stairs to his jet. “I need to speak to the Director,” he spat into it as soon as the call connected. These NCIS nobodies were going to regret messing with Tobias Fornell. This situation was far from over. That silver haired bastard may have snuck in under the rug, but Fornell was going to go right over his head.
Character(s): Tobias Fornell
Genre(s): Drama, Gen
Word Count: 933
Fornell was feeling quite pleased with himself. He added an extra flourish signing the release form the Wichita coroner had provided. Despite the delays, today had come together perfectly.
He still couldn't believe his luck. Being in the Director's office when an important call came in wasn't usually the way to get a new case, but Fornell had been discussing a final report on a rather prestigious case. Having just shown himself competent and cautious with high profile cases and being essentially at loose ends, he'd immediately been offered the Air Force One case. Talk about being in the right place at the right time.
Even better, there was nothing that could go wrong with this case. If it did turn out to be a murder case, then Fornell would be in position to catch the President's eye, which would do wonders for his promotion prospects. If it turned out that Commander Trapp had died due to natural causes, then Fornell's promotion prospects would simply be improved for having handled a case on Air Force One. It was a win-win situation.
Sure, there had been delays, but that was understandable. Jurisdiction disputes were to be expected on a case like this. But in the end, the locals had folded and he knew he could manage the Secret Service girl, with a call to her boss if he had to. Fornell felt on top of the world.
For some reason, Miss Secret Service Agent-in-Charge had turned back before signing the paperwork and the corner was unwilling to settle for just one signature. Charging back up the stairs, Fornell yelled, “Damnit, Agent Todd, let’s get this show on the road!” He was tired of the delays chipping at his good mood.
Unfortunately, the feeling of well being that had surrounded him since the Director handed him the case vanished in an instant as the ME's younger assistant appeared at the hatch. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. We, uh, overbooked the flight,” the foolish man said jokingly even as he started pulling the door shut.
There had been a twist in his gut when Fornell had noted the two assistants to the ME. They hadn't quite seemed the type, and the questions they'd asked ... but he'd ignored the feeling in his earlier confidence. Trapped at the top of the stairs with Agents Michaels and Gregorio at his back, he yelled, “What the hell are you doing?” It did him no good as the door closed right in front of him, the surface flush with the rest of the plane no matter how he longed for a handle to reach out and yank back on. As the plane pulled away, Fornell frantically yelled, “What’s going on? Stop!” looking everywhere for a way to stop that plane even as he knew it was impossible. Everything had gone from perfect to completely wrong so fast he couldn't adjust.
Turning away, Fornell pushed past his team and ran back down the stairs to the coroner. Someone was playing a very dangerous game, and he wanted answers. “All right, do you know what the hell’s going on?” he snapped at the coroner.
“Guess Ducky decided to take the body to Washington,” the coroner replied calmly, smugly.
Fornell's gut twisted sharply at the lack of surprise on the local coroner's face. “Why did your Medical Examiner take the body to Washington?” Fornell asked desperately. He was missing something.
“I never said he was my Medical Examiner,” the coroner replied slyly.
Fornell resisted the urge to throttle the redneck with his own tie. Bad enough his case was about to fly away, but now he couldn't even get a straight answer out of a yokel nobody. He winced as the engines roared, turning Air Force One onto the runway and all but flattening those on the tarmac with the backwash. “Then who the hell’s Medical Examiner is he?” he yelled over the engines.
The coroner looked relaxed, as though the answer should be self evident. “Ducky? He works for NCIS.”
Everything fell into place, but Fornell could only stare after the plane taking off, carrying away his dreams for promotion with it. He'd been played, by a bunch of bush league feds and a redneck local coroner. It was intolerable.
“Call Resich at Langley,” he snapped at his team, turning away from the locals with only a short glare and moving quickly towards the FBI jet on the next runway. “I want full background on the NCIS ME and his assistants.”
“Who were they?” Agent Michaels asked, jogging to keep up with his boss.
Fornell rounded on him with a glare and snapped, “How the hell should I know?” before charging on towards their jet. “You saw them. Find out. NCIS can't be that big.”
Agent Gregorio had the sense to pull out his phone without asking stupid questions.
“NCIS?” Fornell snarled under his breath, trying to understand how a second rate agency could have held up the FBI and the Secret Service half a day and slipped away with the body. This 'Ducky' must have known the local coroner, so clearly NCIS wasn't without contacts. But neither was Fornell.
He pulled out his phone as he charged up the stairs to his jet. “I need to speak to the Director,” he spat into it as soon as the call connected. These NCIS nobodies were going to regret messing with Tobias Fornell. This situation was far from over. That silver haired bastard may have snuck in under the rug, but Fornell was going to go right over his head.