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Godly Marine: Killed - 6 - Part 1 (PJO X NCIS)
Tony couldn't keep the yawn from stretching his mouth open.

He heard Ziva chuckle before he even saw her. "Late night, Tony?"

Tony swatted some police tape out his way. "Good morning, Miss David. And yes, I was busy going through some more episodes of my show."

"What do you call it in English? Binging?"

"Binge-watching. And no, if I were to binge-watch it, I would be done with the entire show by now." Tony looked around the building where they were all called in. Ugh. "I'm so done with this place," Tony complained. "What I'd do to be watching Monica strip down to those cute, pink bikini bottoms."

"Monica?" Ziva laughed.

"Yeah, she's a tiger," Tony explained. "Just had a fight with Kiara last episode. Punched her lights out."

"How wonderful," Ziva mused.

"Hot," Tony agreed. "Hey, where is everybody?"

"Gibbs and Abby are in Tarsibo's office, and McGee is coming in right now."

Tony turned to see McGee shuffling through the doors.

"McGee!" Tony greeted. "Look at you! Last one to arrive."

McGee gave him a cheeky grin. "Unlike you, I've never been here. Didn't exactly know my way."

Tony glared at him. Way to rub it in.

"I thought with your degree in technology," Tony said, "You would have been able to use a GPS just fine."

"I don't know," McGee said, "I kind of liked my drive."

"I rolled down my windows," Ziva shared, "The breeze felt quite nice."

Tony gave her a look that he hoped conveyed his disapproval. What a liar.

"And it appears that we are all here," Ziva said.

"This looks familiar," McGee commented.

Tony turned once more to the entrance.

"NCIS," said a blonde girl, showing her badge and I.D. to a cop.

"NCIS, huh?" Tony said, looking over the group of four.

"Looks like they had a rough night," Ziva murmured.

"Grover looks pretty down…" McGee frowned.

Tony couldn't help but agree. The nervous, nerdy, usually chatty agent seemed very despondent. A contrast to Agent La Rue, who was in a different, perhaps worse, state and spirit.

"Hey, La Rue," Tony said, "Don't go contaminating the crime scene! What did you sleep in, a sandbox?"

"Listen, punk," La Rue growled, shaking some more sand off her, "The crime scene is the office. Besides, why don't you clean yourself up? Jeez, look at you. Eye boogers and, gross, a drool line."

What?! Ziva and McGee snickered as he quickly checked his reflection. Holy-!

"Drooling in your sleep is a very natural and, in fact, a healthy occurrence," Tony defended while scrubbing at his face.

Percy enthusiastically agreed. Tony didn't know how to feel about that.

Lima gave a sigh. "It's really not. Where's Gibbs?"

Ziva answered her before Tony could argue her first statement.

"This way."

Ziva opened the door of the office to reveal… a mess. "Woah," Tony breathed.

"Good morning, everyone!" Abby greeted from her place connecting extension cords.

"Abby, I think you got a little carried away," Tony said.

"Not at all, Tony," Abby said, "I wanted to test all my new blacklights, and this is a perfect time as I can just test this whole office in one go."

"Your blacklights?" Tony asked. He spotted Gibbs standing a little ways off, watching Abby work. "Morning, Boss," Tony said.

Gibbs gave a noncommittal grunt and sipped at his steaming cup of coffee. /Coffee/… Not for the first time, Tony played with the idea of asking his boss to share his drink.

"Hey," McGee said, nudging one of the lights, "I recognize this one. You got it a couple years ago."

"How can you tell?" Tony asked him.

"The sharpie skulls," McGee answered.

"Are all of these blacklights yours, Abby?" Ziva asked.

"No," Abby said a bit more defensive than normal, "Three are from the lab."

"I count eleven," Lima said.

"What do you need with nine blacklights?" Tony asked.

"That would be eight, Tony," McGee corrected.

Ugh, it was too early to be doing math.

"I think the collection is wonderful, Abby," Ziva said.

"Thanks. Good thing there aren't any windows; makes the job easier. Lights!" Abby called, dramatically.

McGee shut the lights off.

And there wasn't much to look at. Almost every inch of the room, the walls, floors, and ceiling were dark. It wouldn't have made Tony nervous if it wasn't for the few patches of the wall that did glimmer.

"I'm not seeing much glow around the place," Underwood said.

"Maybe he cleaned with some bleach," Abby suggested, shaking a bottle. She went up to the walls and started to mass spray. The walls sparked very briefly with each spray. Tony didn't know what that meant, but he certainly didn't like the way Abby started to spray more frantically, running to different areas in an obvious attempt to get different results.

"Abby?" Tony asked softly. "What is it?"

Tony didn't like the way she looked at him. Now, he really wanted to sucker punch Tarsibo.

"It's…" Abby said, hollowly. "It's all blood."

There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room digested the words the scientist said.

"That's a lot of blood," La Rue commented. Tony wanted to snap at her lack of tact.

"Abby," Gibbs called.

"I'm fine, Gibbs," Abby said, answering his unspoken question, "Just surprised and…" Abby heaved a sigh, "I'm going to have a lot of work going through all of this."

"I'll call in, Ducky," Gibbs told her, "See if he can help you."

"Thanks."

Tony turned the light back on and started to look around the office.

"Did you find anything, Boss?" Tony asked, opening some empty drawers.

"Nope," Gibbs said.

Tch, which meant that everything they had was already back at the garage. There was no trace of the swords or shiny coins. Marko probably took them all with him.

"How about the dumpster?" Tony felt a bit lightheaded at how innocently Lima suggested that. "There might be some evidence that Tarsibo wanted to discard and hoped that the garbage would haul it away."

"Hm," Gibbs hummed, his lips already curled in a devious smirk, "That is true." He rapped on a door next to him that Tony had barely noticed. "I think this would lead us outside," Gibbs said, "But it's locked."

Lima frowned. "Locked from the outside?"

"That's strange," McGee said, "Maybe he just didn't use it much."

"Seeing as the video in the main entrance didn't see him leave," Ziva disputed, "this has to be the one he used."

"Alright," McGee said, fiddling with some tools, "Let me just pick the lock."

"Or we could just break it down," La Rue suggested as she marched towards the door. Gibbs moved aside as the girl kicked the door down. Literally.

Tony hoped Abby wouldn't mind the large boot print she now had to deal with.

McGee gave Agent La Rue a deadpan look. "How efficient."

"You bet on it."

Ziva took a step outside and blinked in surprise. "Not what I was expecting."

"Check. It. Out." Tony gazed at the lines of cars hidden in this back area. "Look at this. Now, this is a collection. Man! Nice Chevrolet- must be from the 60s!"

Underwood let out a huff. "They're just a bunch of gas guzzlers."

Ziva let out a grunt as Tony pushed her from his path. "Oh! Sweet!" He pumped. Tony slid his hand across a retro, red Plymouth. "Oh," he breathed, "What a righteous Fury. A pure classic."

"Should we leave you two alone?" Ziva teased.

"Let's not," La Rue huffed, "Don't want to scar Abby when she brings her blacklights out here. Place would light up light a Christmas tree."

Tony ignored her. Although, he sent a worried glance when Underwood choked on thin air.

"We're going to have to run plates," McGee sighed.

"It can't be that bad," Percy said as he eyed at the parked beauties with appreciative eyes. Tony knew he had promise.

"That will be something for when we get back to base," Lima said, moving them on till they got to the dumpsters.

And for a bit, they all just stopped and considered the hulking metal bin.

"So," Lima said first, looking at her team, "Any volunteers?"

La Rue crossed her arms and looked dead on at her boss in defiance. Underwood was practically begging, saying something about his nose being too sensitive. And Percy was trying to scoot his way out of Lima's eyesight.

Tony's eyes latched on the green-eyed agent. "I think this would be a great learning experience for the probie."

Tony felt a spark of accomplishment ignite in his heart as both McGee and Ziva looked up. But they were not his focus…this time. Now, he had a new friend that he made over the last day, and Tony just had to involve him in the DiNozzo welcome.

"Jackson," Tony clarified, "Come on, probie."

Percy's eyes widened as everyone turned their attention to him. "Me? Probie?" He looked at Lima in distress but slumped in obvious dismay at her lack of defense.

Tony mentally cheered as Percy clambered up and into the huge can. That is until Lima showed her true ability. Not in defense but in retribution.

"Percy may need some help," Lima said, "Why don't you join him, Agent DiNozzo? You are his senior."

"S-sure, but-"

"You've done this plenty of times, Tony," Ziva said, which McGee rapturedly agreed to.

"What was it you said?" McGee said. "You would never use your 'superiority' for personal gain?"

The snarky nerd even used his fingers to air quote. Tony mimicked him, making sure to nail his derpy face.

"Yeah," Percy said lowly, "I'm sure you've been in the garbage plenty of times."

'Excuse you?'

"Get in there, DiNozzo," said Gibbs.

Tony sighed in defeat. There was no going against the Boss. He had been sent on his fair share of dumpster diving missions, but even though he was a senior agent, Gibbs kept on pushing him back in.

"Alright," Tony grimaced, trying not to breathe too deeply. "Let's see what we have here." He ripped open a garbage bag and casually dumped its contents. Percy yelped when most of the trash landed on him. How was Tony supposed to that the wind would pick up at just that moment?

"I got a ton of shredded documents," Tony noted, picking up the slim cuts of paper, "but they just look like vehicle and business stuff. Got some water bottles. And check this out," Tony lifted a couple of bags and napkins. "Looks like a logo I recognize."

"The Drowsy Owl," Ziva read.

"There is a whole bunch of stuff from that place in here," Percy said, digging a little deeper. "Guess he really liked the place."

"Bag it," Gibbs ordered.

"Uh, which ones?" Jackson asked.

"Everything," Gibbs and Lima said in time.

Tony grimaced. Oh no, they have started to become one!

"Looks like Ducky is here, Boss," McGee said.

Gibbs nodded, "Keep going through the place."

"Keep up the good work, boys," Lima threw behind her shoulder as she left with Gibbs.

"I should grab some popcorn," La Rue considered once the two squad leaders were out of hearing distance.

"When I was younger, one of my favorite snacks was Klik," Ziva shared, "Especially the chocolate-covered pretzel ones."

"Hm," Clarisse hummed in contemplation, "those sound pretty good right about now, too."

"How about you try helping?" Percy asked sardonically.

"Nah, I'm good right here in the audience," Clarisse jeered, "And don't forget to stuff yourself in one of those trash bags once you're done."

Tony winced at how casually cruel she was to her coworker. There was no doubt going to be another argument between the two, as he saw Percy tense. Tony sighed internally. This was not going to be pretty.

Underwood seemed to be thinking along the same lines, nervously saying, "I'll go jot down those plate numbers."

Tony watched enviously as the agent practically ran away, wishing he could as well when the arguing finally started. Ziva was downright egging them on. Hopefully, he could get out of this dump.

-Ανναβετη-

'Sorry, Percy,' Annabeth thought, not sparing a glance even as the sounds of an argument brewed over. She had to get someone who could spot pieces of evidence, not that she doubted Percy's ability, but he wouldn't have even thought about the implications of shredded paper or the products from The Drowsy owl. Agent David had a sharp eye and mind, and Agent McGee would diligently stay and do whatever his boss told him to do to the best of his ability, no matter how enthusiastic he was not. DiNozzo would find what he needed to, then pull rank when Gibbs had left. Clarisse would ensure that by just being herself.

She trusted Percy to find what she had really put him there to search for.

"I'm going to speak to Kahale's C.O." Gibbs told her, "He'll be able to give us more insight on Kahale's apparent assignment, or at least have an idea on who might have sent him."

Annabeth frowned at Gibbs's obvious assumption. "What if this wasn't a mission he received?"

Gibbs gave her a look. "A mechanic would be uncovering this mess by himself in just a few days of being home?"

Annabeth sighed. Welcome to the life of a demigod. But she couldn't just tell him that. "We shouldn't cross it off," she said simply.

He scrutinized her for a moment, before nodding. "I want to speak with the owner of the bar, too," Gibbs continued. "Repeated connections to the bar aren't looking good for him."

"You think the owner is involved?" Annabeth asked. Clarisse had told her that the bartender didn't seem like the type. Maybe he had tricked her.

"We shouldn't cross it off," Gibbs repeated.

Annabeth considered her own words that he threw at her. It was a solid way of thinking, for sure. "Well, you are going to have to hold out on hitting the bar," She told him, "It has not opened yet. Might as well talk to Michael's Commanding Officer first."

She watched as the older investigator shrugged in response, then pull off the lid of his large coffee cup to frown at its contents, or more likely its lack of. Already grumpier than before, Gibbs said, "Let's see what Ducky's got."

"Good morning, Jethro, Agent Lima," Ducky greeted, clambering out of the van.

"You got here pretty quickly," Gibbs said.

"Yes, I was already on the way, having wanted to be at the site of these gruesome murders," Ducky explained

"You went through the tapes, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, not all of it, I'm afraid. Underwood has given me quite the number of video clips, I haven't had time to go through all of them."

Annabeth made sure not to show anything other than sympathy on her face. "Sorry, Ducky, there were a few years on that tape."

"Yes, full of the man's vile actions."

And that was with all the editing Grover, and she did. There were several clips that Ducky did not receive. Although giving Ducky video that showcased usage of divine weapons wasn't a problem, any obvious displays of powers or mythical creatures had been easily cut out and replaced, thanks to Daedalus' laptop. Grover had taken it pretty hard, though. There were some satyrs, nymphs, and a demigod or two that Grover recognized.

"What did you get from them?" Gibbs asked.

"There is no particular type of person that he targets. They may be young or old, a woman or a man, they could be armed or defenseless. Some he lets live, while others not. He can be rightly called a psychopath, a very murderous one. His killings are random," Ducky said.

'Not random,' Annabeth thought, 'Only when he's hungry.'

"Great," Gibbs sighed, "Did you get anything from the kids' profiles?

"Hm, they are very interesting. I wonder what deeper connection they share with our Staff Sergeant."

"You don't think they are just normal kids?"

"Honestly, Jethro! They were wielding weapons!"

"Not what I meant," Gibbs said, "Are you telling me they may be in on this whole thing?"

"Take a closer look at this image here," Ducky told him, "There is a marking on their forearm. The image is unclear, but it is obviously not a natural mark that they both just happen to share."

"Gang activity?"

"Or…"

"'Or,' Duck?"

"Or they might be part of these Mexican Cartels."

His postulation threw Annabeth off for a second. She could kind of guess how he could come to such an idea, but she really couldn't see two teenagers, far from the border and with no links to a Mexican background, would all of a sudden be part of these cartels. Even if they weren't demigods.

Gibbs also seemed to dismiss the idea. He said, "Cartels don't send kids to do business."

"No," Ducky agreed, "but they do send them to kill."

Gibbs shook his head. It seemed he had reached the same conclusion as Annabeth had.

"There is a possibility," Ducky continued. "I've been over both of their records. ADHD, Dyslexia, hardship in academic and social life, reports of violence, one or both parents dead or missing."

Typical demigods then.

"Not in Wisconsin, Ducky."

Annabeth felt a bit disappointed if that was how Gibbs was derailing this idea.

"Sergeant Kahale was from Maryland," Ducky retorted, "And he displayed all of the mentioned traits. If not hitmen, then perhaps coyotitos or reclutadores. But this man could have easily accumulated a reputation."

The doctor turned his gaze on Annabeth, who had to shake her head, admitting, "Sorry. I don't know much on Mexican Cartels. But I have to agree with Agent Gibbs, it doesn't seem likely."

"Hm, very well. It is not my job to solve the crime," Ducky sighed, before continuing with his reports. "There were a few instances of victims who shared the same circumstances of owning those unique blades that the Staff Sergeant and the children, Mr. Swaller and Miss Hibashira, possessed. What's interesting is that all, except for Sergeant Kahale, and that exception can be argued, all the victims were children."

Annabeth tried to guess what was going through Gibbs's head. After all the evidence that had been revealed to the mortal investigators, victims using celestial blades was expected.

"I fear Abigail is going to be very busy, with the added work of identifying the victims. The families will have to be notified." Ducky lifted an eyebrow at Gibbs, "Have the guardians of those children been told?"

"Not yet," Gibbs.

"Well, it'd be best to do so quickly. Don't go questioning them too hard," Ducky said, fixing Gibbs with a peculiar glare, "They have just lost their children and will all be strongly affected."

"I know, Duck."

Annabeth pondered at the shift in tone of the conversation. And she came to the realization that she really didn't know who the mortal investigators really were. She remembered last night. An empty house with hidden rooms and an obviously unused upper floor. What had Agent Gibbs gone through in his mortal life, outside of solving Navy crimes?

Maybe letting Gibbs call up the victims' families, several of which may be in the know of the divine world, was not the best idea. But if she could do it… and if she could hook up her laptop with whatever program these feds had…

"I can work with the families," She suggested, coming up with an idea. "I'll just need access to facial recognition and the database."

"I'll still have to speak with them," Gibbs said.

"Fine," Annabeth said, already anticipating that, "But this way, they could have time to process the news before you start on them."

Gibbs thought a bit before disappointing her, "I'll need you on this one, if you can get more hints at Greek cult stuff, we could maybe start putting some connecting lines. Get Underwood on it."

Annabeth held tongue before she ranted at him for calling her life a cult. She simply nodded. She could work with that; she'll show Grover how to connect with the federal programs.

"We'll leave you and Abby to take all the samples you need, Duck," Gibbs said, leading Annabeth away.

"Joy," she heard the Medical Examiner grumble.

"Head back to HQ," Gibbs told her, "We'll talk to the C.O, directly. See what he's like."

'See'? Annabeth wondered how they would do that, she doubted Gibbs or his block of a computer could handle a face-time conversation.

But before she could ask, he had moved away and was gathering up his team. She smirked as she saw DiNozzo had already left Percy alone in the dumpster can. There were showers back at NCIS, or so she heard.

She hurried to collect her own company.

"Did you find anything in there?" She asked Percy.

He glared back at her. "No. And thanks a lot, by the way."

"Hey, barnacle boy," Clarisse growled, "We couldn't just let the mortals find drachmae, and they already have a celestial bronze dagger. Let's not give them another."

"Oh. Sorry."

Annabeth sighed. Clarisse had always been quick to realize Annabeth's strategies when they worked together. Percy just relied on his instincts and improvisational skills. It's something that Annabeth had grown to admire and work into her plan making.

"What did you find, Grover?" She asked her satyr friend.

"Um, the cars don't have a smell of monster in them. But they are really old. I think they belonged to Tarsibo's past victims. He must have been here for a really long time."

"Hm, and we just drove him out of his home," Annabeth thought aloud.

"If this general was a Son of Ares like you said, then he is either cowardly or drawing up the power to beat us right back," Clarisse said.

"I said he might be a son of Ares," Annabeth corrected, "But I agree, just letting us kick him out is not something Ares would approve us. But cutting losses and waiting to bring down the hammer is."

"You think he is going to bring the Mexican Cartels into this?" Grover asked.

Annabeth thought back to Michael's notes Abby had sent her. "He confirmed that the Reynosa cartel is involved in the shipment of weapons and suspects Sinaloa's involvement. I didn't find much on them, but I really doubt Tarsibo is going to ask for Cartel help on this. However, the weapons dealing Monster Donuts chain is somewhere he might go to. We really need to find it."

"Yeah," Clarisse agreed, cracking her knuckles, this morning's pounding doesn't cover DiNozzo's insistent jabbering. Not to mention, Ziva is good and is a good match with DiNozzo."

Annabeth nodded at the information that Clarisse implied. "But they are buying our cover stories?"

"Yeah, good thing you fleshed it out, they have gone deep into it and are still searching for more."

"I can't believe they haven't found me all over the internet yet," Percy said.

Annabeth smiled, "They don't have to go onto the internet if their database has all that they need."

"When we head back, Gibbs wants to call up the C.O. with me and have a chat with him. Clarisse, I want you to listen along." It would be good to have another demigod's opinion on the Commanding Officer.

"What did Dr. Mallard have to say?" Grover inquired.

"That we did good last night," Annabeth said, "And I'm going to need your help so we can communicate to all of the victim's families. You are going to have to convince either Agent McGee or Abby, the forensic scientist, to hookup Daedalus's laptop so it can access all the programs and databases they use for facial identification."

"So, how am I going to do this?"

"I'll show you on the way there. Let's go."