Prologue

Day 1: 76°31′52″N 068°42′11″W
Greenland - Thule US Airbase

"What do you mean, "he's gone off the grid"?

"He hasn't reported back for a while, sir. We've lost all contact."

"What about the rest of the research team?"

"They made it safely back to the station after being out on the ice checking the equipment. The blizzard had surprised them all to begin with, which resulted in the loss of Bennett and a Danish lieutenant, and the search party had to abandon all efforts finding them both back due to whiteout conditions. Moreover, they wanted to get the others from the Polar Science Program back to the station before nightfall. As it stands, the two men are presumed dead by now."

"A Danish lieutenant?"

"Yessir. I just got confirmation the Danish Navy are rather interested in getting the body of their lost lieutenant back, too. They sounded pretty worried. It appears the man hails from a family with a longstanding army...sorry, navy tradition. It transpires his family's also connected to the Danish royal family. Contrary to Bennett, the Danish officer was no Arctic newbie. Actually, he was in charge of Project Blue Ice."

Admiral Eldridge snorted while he perused the transcript of the missive. "I didn't realize there were still navies that upheld promotion by interest."

His bushy eyebrows went up in surprise when his gaze fell upon the name of the missing lieutenant. "Birger Nørsgård?"

"Sir? Uhm... Yessir."

"I know his father. A prime officer. Anyway, tell me what happened to project Blue Ice?"

"A team went out there, but they'd found the base deserted and everything of worth had been thoroughly destroyed. A preliminary investigation by the rescue party pointed in the direction of a polar bear having found its way in and making a complete shambles of the place on its quest for food."

"Too much of a coincidence, if you ask me."

"I agree, sir. "

The admiral turned towards his desk and picked up a sheet of paper which he held out to his personal secretary who took it and ran his eyes over the RDN document. "Admiral Mejdal sent me this. He's already put together his little expedition to go out there and bring Nørsgård back." There was the slightest hesitation but then Admiral Eldridge continued. "The Royal Danish Navy make it pretty obvious they don't believe in accidents, either."

"Shouldn't we call in NCIS, sir?"

The admiral considered his aide's advice. He didn't really have to think about it for long. There was only one course of action to be taken in such a case. This was something for his old friend Leroy Jethro Gibbs' team.

"Call the HQ; I want Gibbs' best man on this. For now, all we can do is pray that those two men out there managed to ride the storm out in a makeshift shelter. In that case, they may yet be alive."

"Rather doubtful, sir."

"You don't know Nørsgård, Dan. He knows the Arctic. And I know why Admiral Mejdal wants him back – not to mention the young officer's family! However, we are talking about two young men who need to be found."

38°52′24″N76°59′49″W
NCIS Navy Yard - Washington DC

"What? You can't send Probie out there, Boss! He'll freeze to death!"

"Gibbs, let me go. McGee is…"

"…and if he stays here, he can let his magic little fingers do their tricks and send out the cavalry when…IF…we need it."

"…the least experienced!"

The team leader gave a shrill whistle that silenced his bickering agents quite effectively. Well, two bickering agents as his third man still sat unobtrusively at his desk, "magic little" fingers dexterously flying across his keyboard.

Timothy McGee had long since learned to tune his co-workers out when they vied – usually over his head, anyway - for a job that would take them abroad. He'd long given up being selected for one.

This time would be no different.

Gibbs' whistle, though, had him perked up in alarm like a meerkat emerging from its burrow.

Tony and Ziva both fell silent.

"McGee's going and that's final."

"But he's already been to Canada and, Boss, you know he can't stand the freezing cold!"

At that, Tim narrowed his eyes petulantly. "I'm hardly a wimp, Tony. I'm not afraid of a little cold. I can fend for myself, thank you." He then fixed his unwavering green gaze upon Gibbs. "I can do this, Boss."

He couldn't believe they still thought him incapable of doing his job as a federal agent! Inside, he was boiling, yet, he knew how to hide his feelings. He stared his boss down, thus transmitting his message that he was strong enough to be on this case. After all, wasn't it obvious his boss had confidence he could do it? Gibbs had asked him and everybody knew Gibbs wouldn't send his men into something they couldn't cope with.

"I have the experience needed for this case!" Ziva stubbornly tossed in.

"Who said he was going alone?"

"But…"

"Oh," Tim thought with some amusement, "this is going to be interesting…"

"I wasn't done talking. I know you have experience, Ziva, however this case is on McGee and DiNozzo."

The two male agents' gazes slowly swiveled towards Ziva's face, now flushing hot with indignation and then at each other.

"Gibbs!" Ziva attempted to make him change his mind.

"Not my orders, Ziva," Gibbs said before turning towards Tim. "Better start packing your woollies. No time for getting cold feet. You too, DiNozzo."

All three agents stared at him.

He checked his watch, tapped it and said: "What are you waiting for? Your flight takes off at 17:00."

Gibbs turned on his heel and walked towards the elevator, away from two baffled agents and a fuming Ziva.

If there was one person going to stay behind – to send out the cavalry…if…needed – it would be him. For starters, his old bones, or rather his joints, couldn't cope with the Arctic climate. More importantly, Abby would fix them a little something – a little device from Abby - to keep a track on them. He smiled, confident they wouldn't get lost.

As for Ziva, Vance had opined she still needed time to sort things out and Gibbs had agreed with the Director.

The closing of the elevator doors galvanized Tony and Tim into action and they hurriedly began to collect their gear.