Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, nor do I own NCIS

A/N: It's sad to say I know next to nothing about America's navy (or military in general), so if you notice any mistakes, please notify me!

When All Else Fails

02: The Meeting of Minds (Part Two)

Alex was sure what he was supposed to do once he got to the airport. He was fairly sure no one was waiting for him there, and he honestly had no idea where the NCIS headquarters were.

Before he'd left, he had been provided with car keys. He discovered the Toyota easily enough, but still didn't know where to go.

He could probably call one of his contacts at the CIA, but he had been warned that CIA didn't know he was in the country.

"Oh, fuck this," Alex muttered under his breath in a Welsh accent. He fished out his phone and dialed a familiar number. Petty Officer Bruce Waters.

He set his mobile to speakerphone and backed out of his parking spot.

Ring ring!

"Hello. You have reached-"

Alex groaned in annoyance, hanging up with a flick of his finger. It was typical that his Navy SEAL friend wouldn't pick up.

Of his time in America with the SEALs, he had grown closest with Bruce. Alex was sure that he wouldn't mind him stopping by, even if it was just for directions.

It took Alex twenty minutes to reach Bruce's house, which he had thankfully committed to memory.

He tried ringing his friend again, but he was met my the answering machine.

Alex rolled his eyes and parked at the curb, hopping out of his new car and making his way towards the house.

When he reached the front door of Bruce's shabby little home, Alex knew something was very wrong. The door was ajar, showing an empty foyer.

Alex was instantly on guard. He drew his gun, spinning around to scan his surroundings. He couldn't see anything, but he got the sense he was being watched.

He gently pushed the door open with the tip of his boot, checking for any traps. Nothing happened.

Alex went in carefully, his gun pointed out in front of him. Every sense was alert, and the hairs on his neck were standing on end.

It was too silent. He knew that Bruce always liked to keep the telly on, even when he wasn't watching.

He quickly cleared the first floor. To an outsider, it looked perfectly normal. A cheap telly with a worn sofa and coffee table in front of it. Dirty plates were piled on top of the small coffee table, a half empty can of beer tossed aside. There were more dirty dishes in the sink. Papers were scattered all over the kitchen table.

Alex knew the Petty Officer. Bruce was organized, as all military personnel usually were.

He ascended the rickety steps, his gun still drawn.

The first room he entered was the master bedroom. It was empty, devoid of any life. The next room, however, showed a different story.

It was a bedroom-turned-study. Papers were strewn. Little trinkets around the room, tokens from places Bruce had been deployed to, were smashed.

Alex lowered his gun for a fraction of a second, a bad feeling in his stomach manifesting.

He crept forward, shards of glass crunching underneath his combat boots.

The door behind him burst open, even though it had been already open.

"FREEZE! NCIS!" Someone shouted from behind him. Alex could tell they were pointing a gun at his exposed back, "Drop the weapon!"

Alex had watched enough cop shows to know that he had to move slowly. He raised his arms, dropping the gun like an obedient dog.

"You're under arrest for the abduction of Petty Officer Bruce Waters," someone grabbed his arms roughly, snapping cold cuffs around his wrists, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

WHEN*ALL*ELSE*FAILS

"He's kind of creepy," Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, staring at the young man in the interrogation room, commented, "Kind of like-"

Officer Ziva David sighed, turning to give Tony a look that effectively silenced the man. She partially agreed with him, but she would never admit that aloud.

The young man that they had arrested earlier hadn't moved a muscle since they had stuffed him inside the interrogation room. His eyes were steadily fixed on them. No doubt he knew they were watching.

"I don't know," Special Agent Timothy McGee chipped in, staring at the boy as well, "he kind of has a 'Gibbs stare'."

"Exactly why he's creepy," Tony replied, before glancing around like Gibbs was around the corner.

Ziva didn't say anything as she watched the young man. There was something about him that was slightly familiar, but she couldn't tell what it was. Maybe it was the expression in his eyes. She'd seen it many times throughout her time with the Mossad.

His eyes were hiding pain that most people couldn't understand. Civilians would pass him off as scary and slightly creepy. They didn't understand.

"Do you think the boss can break him?" Tony asked, inspecting the boy, "Ow!"

Ziva cracked a smile. Gibbs stood behind him, holding a coffee cup in his hand. It still amazed her how Tony never learned from his mistakes. But, she supposed that was what made Tony, Tony.

"Oh, I'll break him," the statement itself reassured Ziva.

The man exited the room and reappeared in the interrogation room a moment later.

Ziva turned her attention on the man. He looked very young, but the look in his eyes made her rethink the thought. He had fair hair, cut in a military style. His face was impassive, but Ziva could detect… What was it? Amusement?

"My name is Derek Mac, sir," the young man stated before Gibbs could begin his questioning. Ziva was surprised to hear a Welsh accent, "I am an SAS soldier. I recently spent time with Petty Officer Waters and his unit as a liaison. I was at your crime scene because I wanted to visit an old friend, sir."

Ziva watched as Gibbs crossed the room and took a seat opposite of where Derek sat.

"I don't believe you," Gibbs stated bluntly after a moment of silence.

Derek inclined his head slightly, "I expected as much, sir."

Ziva tore her eyes from the scene in front of her when the door in the interrogation room opened sharply.

Gibbs looked up, clearly angry at whoever had interrupted. In this case, it was Director Shepard.

"You're free to go," she told Derek before turning to Gibbs, "I need to talk to you."

Ziva turned to her teammates, eyebrows raised.

"You know, he kind of reminds me of..." Tony began listing off names and movie titles that Ziva didn't particularly care for.

Instead, she peered at Gibbs and Director Shepard, who left the room together. She wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

The man, Derek Mac, hadn't moved since the two officials had left, but he did seem slightly more human than he had been before. He seemed more relaxed and lighthearted. The amusement that he had hidden was now shown more plainly in the form of a half-smile.

"What's wrong, Zee-vah?" Tony stressed her name, "Got the hots for Mr. British Guy over there?"

Ziva frowned, not at all amused by Tony's jibe.

There was something in the back of her mind that warned her that Derek was a threat. Something was different about him. He couldn't have been a soldier.

It hit her.

"Espionage!"

A/N: Idk about this… Maybe I should have waited a bit longer (watching more NCIS) before attempting this. It was very hard writing the NCIS characters, so sorry if they were terribly OOC.

Bleh. I'm feeling a bit bleh typing this too. As I've learned, reading/writing while in the car doesn't really sit well with me… So I'm just going to go now…

-Alice x (for spoilers, sneak peeks, and more, follow me on Twitter at dalekchung)