Got Your Number--a Person of Interest/NCIS crossover

The Hunt

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"Looks like our original guess was right." Reese, still breathing hard, lay in the back of Carter's cruiser, watching the video on his phone. "Agent McGee took the breakup pretty hard and arranged for her to be kidnapped once she was in New York."

Carter, at the wheel, snorted. "Everyone knows bad things happen in New York, right?"

"Plus he'd be at work in Washington when it happened. It's a decent alibi."

"We were too fixated on Root." Finch's voice expressed his frustration. "In all likelihood, she's never been involved. Agent McGee would have been initially responsible for tracing the call from NCIS, all he had to do was alert his own agents before alerting the federal ones. Simple enough for a technician of his caliber."

"Except she doesn't cave to his attentions," nodded Reese, finally sitting up. "So he clears his accounts, throws the case off track, and prepares to leave the country after doing away with Abby and anyone associated with his plan."

"Why?" Carter frowned. "Why bother covering your tracks if you're going to split anyway? The second they realize he's gone they'll put two and two together. And didn't you say he brought up some of the fake evidence himself? Something's wrong, Finch, this is too obvious."

"Perhaps he relapsed. Perhaps the stress was getting to him and he made mistakes." Finch suggested, frustration still in his tone. "Who knows, detective? It certainly doesn't change our course—follow Agent McGee and apprehend him before he can discard the body."

"Maybe not. Carter, pull over here." John gestured.

The police car pulled over to the curb with a squeal of tires. John leapt out the back while Carter popped out the front. "What're you doing now? Stealing another car?"

"This is mine." John answered, running over to a jet-black car parked nearby. "It has some hardware I might need in the back. Carter, I want you to go visit the site of that shooting... something about the video doesn't sit right with me."

Carter looked mildly insulted. "So what, I'm playing clean-up now?"

"Something like that." The door slammed, and the dark car sped away.

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"Hey boss." Tony said as Gibbs swept into the office. "You just missed Taylor."

"Really? What was he doing here?" Gibbs asked, rooting through his desk.

"Bringing over the data from that stuff you sent down there." Tony answered, holding up the relevant files. "I'm looking it over now, seems pretty promising."

Gibbs frowned. "I never sent anything down there." He responded, crossing the space in a few strides and snatching the papers from Tony's hand. "Where did he say he got them from?"

"McGee," answered Tony, a doubtful look creeping over his face. "You know, I did wonder, since McGeek was supposed to be on break all morning."

"Apparently he did some extra work," muttered Gibbs, throwing the papers down. "Where is he?"

"Went out to get coffee. Forgot his wallet, though, Ziva ran after..."

Gibb's phone cut Tony off with its insistent ring, and the director held up a hand to silence the agent as he flipped the phone open. "Ziva, if you're..." He stopped. "What?" Tony looked up as his boss's voice grew sharp, hard. "Where's McGee?" Gibbs was already digging his gun out of the desk. Tony, puzzled but reading the signs nonetheless, grabbed his own coat and gun. "Right, stay there, Tony and I are on the way down. And keep trying."