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The Rock and the Hard Place
If the jet had offered enough room, Jack would have been pacing the floor. Ever since they'd gotten the call about the explosion at a DC hotel, a hotel where Daniel was supposed to be attending a conference about international diplomacy, his anger and impatience kept him on edge. Especially since Daniel had failed to answer any of the dozen or so calls placed to his cell phone.
The phone on the wall buzzed and Jack leapt on it. The pilot informed him they were patching through a call from the SGC.
“Colonel,” Hammond's voice boomed out. “The Pentagon has informed us that there were eight fatalities.” His voice softened. “Jack, we don't believe that Dr. Jackson is among them.”
“Because?”
“I had Major Carter ping Dr. Jackson's phone. We have triangulated its location and it appears to be at NCIS headquarters in the Navy yard.”
Jack snarled. “Why would his phone be at NCIS?”
“Jack, if Dr. Jackson's phone had been near the detonation point, it probably wouldn't be pinging anywhere. At least, Major Carter believes so.”
Jack's gut unclenched. Just a bit. “So, what now?”
“NCIS is being...uncooperative, is the term that was used when Major Davis called. Therefore, Major Davis is meeting your plane and taking you directly to the Yard. Call me as soon as you know anything.”
*
“Why do you insist on doing this the hard way?” Gibbs snapped at the man seated across the table.
“Lawyer. Phone call.” Came the reply, the same reply he'd been given since they'd brought the man in from the scene.
“All you have to do is cooperate. Unlock your phone and laptop so we can clear you and you can go home.”
The man sighed. “And I will tell you the same thing I've been saying for hours. Classified means I don't just hand out access like it's a vending machine. And when am I getting my phone call?”
“When I say you get it, Dr. Jackson.” He smirked at the look of surprise. “Yes, your fingerprints match the name you gave us.”
“And the fact that you must know I am attached to the Air Force doesn't convince you that I'm not a terrorist?”
“Your birthplace is listed as Egypt. And your phone and laptop are so heavily encrypted we can't get in. To me, that makes you a person of interest and so legally we can hold you as long as we like.”
Dr. Jackson snorted. “As long as you like is 72 hours, Agent Gibbs, and we both know that. So I'll just wait out the 72 hours or until the Air Force blows in. Whichever comes first. So why don't you just trot me back to my cell.”
“We can get a court order.” Gibbs threatened.
Daniel just smiled disarmingly. “You're welcome to try. In the meantime, I don't suppose I could get a cup of coffee?” He asked.
“You're lucky we gave you a bottle of water.” A bottle that had been meticulously wiped of prints after he'd drunk it, Gibbs had been informed. Paranoid, Gibbs concluded. Or just very, very cautious.
*
Gibbs saw his prisoner lodged safely and made his way up to MTAC. “What do you know, McGee?”
“Not much,” he admitted as he pointed to the figures on the screen. “I've never seen this level of encryption. And I don't even know what language that is.” The screen was populated with figures that Gibbs had never seen before. “His phone has a thumb print encryption and then it goes to this.” Blocky letters filled the screen.
“What is that?”
“They look like Norse runes but I have no idea how to decode this stuff. No program I've run has a clue what this is but I can't break it. I mean, I could, if I had like a thousand years but...” McGee shook his head, clearly stumped. And just a little insulted.
“Director,” one of the technicians turned. “There are two Air Force officers downstairs. And they've got like a SWAT team with them.” Her eyes widened as she accessed the camera for the area.
“How did they get in with those weapons?” Leon groused. “Officers up to my office. The damned SWAT guys stay down.” When they exited, they saw the MP's lining the hall. “I thought I said they stayed downstairs?”
“They take their orders from me, Director Vance. Major Paul Davis, Pentagon liaison for the Air Force. They're just here to make sure there is no trouble getting Dr. Jackson released.”
“In my office.” Leon led the way in.
“Director, this is Colonel O'Neill, Dr. Jackson's CO. He can vouch for Dr. Jackson's whereabouts for the last several years.”
“Years, huh?” Gibbs drawled.
“Years.” O'Neill said gruffly. “I can't believe you think Daniel is some kind of damned terrorist.” Jack caught a quick look on the face of the younger agent. Pointing at him, Jack asked, “What?”
“I didn't say anything,” McGee protested.
“You have a...look. What aren't you saying?”
With a small shoulder shrug, he admitted, “We might have gotten off on the wrong foot with Dr. Jackson. On account of Tony calling him a geek.”
Jack paced in frustration. “Oh, come on! He hates being called that, I only say it to piss him off.”
“He kinda shut down after that,” McGee nodded.
“Nevertheless, Dr. Jackson is a senior civilian attached to the Air Force. He is not a terrorist. We're here to ask, politely, that he be released into our custody.”
“And we'll be happy to release him. As soon as he unencrypts his laptop and phone so we can clear him.”
“You don't have the clearance to see what's on his devices.” Davis replied.
“Not even me?” Vance inquired.
“Not even you, Director.”
“Well, until I'm satisfied, he goes nowhere.”
“I can go over your head,” Davis warned.
“You're welcome to try.” Vance shot back.
“Oh, let me, please!” O'Neill begged. “Let me make the call. I just want the satisfaction.”
“Last chance.” Davis said. Vance shook his head. “Make the call, Colonel.”
Jack whipped out his phone and punched one number. “Yes, Colonel O'Neill here, Major Fetterman. I need a quick word with the boss. Yes, it does pertain to Dr. Jackson.” He paused, then grinned. “Sir, sorry to disturb you and I hoped this wouldn't be necessary but NCIS is being non-cooperative. No, sir, they refuse to release Dr. Jackson unless he lets them peek at his phone and laptop. Yes, sir, they were informed of the definition of classified. Yes, sir, we're in the director's office. Thank you, sir.” He slid the phone in his pocket with a satisfied smirk. “You should be getting a call any minute now. I suggest you take this one.”
They stood for a long agonizing minute and Jack frowned at his watch until the desk phone rang. Vance walked over and picked it up. “Yes, Charlene, I'll take the call. Mr. Secretary.” He winced when he realized the Secretary of Defense was on the line. And he sounded annoyed.
“Are you in your office? Close the door and put me on speaker phone.”
“Yes sir.” Vance hit the speaker button.
“I'm only going to say this one time. Dr. Jackson is to be released immediately. And his devices had better be intact or I'll be coming down there personally. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, we still have questions....”
“Director Vance, do you know where Dr. Jackson was last night?”
“No, sir, I can't say that I do,” he realized he was about to find out, whether he wanted to know or not.
“Dr. Jackson was a guest at the White House state dinner for the Dutch royal family. If the Secret Service cleared Dr. Jackson to be close enough to the President to stab him with a damned steak knife, I think we can be certain he isn't a terror suspect. Release him, Leon. Now.” The sound of a dial tone filled the quiet room.
“So,” Jack rocked on his heels, his voice filled with a satisfied glee. “You gonna bring him up or do I need to send the MPs down to get him?”
*
Gibbs was still glaring when Dr. Jackson came up from holding.
“Your phone,” McGee handed it over. “And your laptop. Can I just say I've never seen that level of encryption before.” His tone was clearly admiring.
Unexpectedly, Dr. Jackson smiled. “Thanks, I think.”
“Come on, Daniel. I'll buy you a drink.”
“Coffee,” Daniel said, perking up immediately.
Jack nodded as they headed to the elevator, trailing MPs in their wake. “NCIS, may I say it hasn't been a pleasure? Not in the least.”
Gibbs just snarled as the elevator doors closed.