FIFTY | no more secrets

                                    

                                          
"This isn't Tenerife."
Ziva greets me with a warm smile while Goliath, Tony, and Gibbs step out of the opening of the aircraft. They squint from the sun falling directly on their faces.
"Welcome to D.C., Goliath."
The four of us ride back to headquarters, Gibbs taking the driver's seat as predicted. Ziva sits up front with him, which leaves me and Tony in the back together.
As soon as we arrive at the building, McGee briefs us on what he's found about the exchange between Goliath and Harrow.
"Uh, Eva?" McGee calls out to me.
"Right, right." I grab the plasma remote. "Charles Andrew Harrow, 68, civilian encryption specialist who was employed by the DOD until retiring three years ago."
A yawn leaves my lips involuntarily, to which Gibbs looks back at me.
I clear my throat. "Sorry, boss. His most notable project is —"
"A.R.E.S.." He cuts me off. "Top secret Navy encrypted satellite targeting system named after —"
"The Greek god of war, I know."
"Right." The stern man nods once. "Is that all?"
"No, of course not. Who do you think we are?" Nervously, I scratch the back of my neck. "And we're back to you, McGee."
His eyes narrow slightly because of my words. "I'm also running Harrow's phone and email records for the past ninety days against databases of known arms dealers. No hits yet, but I did just start."
"205 Rosewood Drive, Northwest D.C.. Is that address still good?"
"As far as we know, yes."
"Eva, DiNozzo, go get him."
"Are you-Are you sure about that, Gibbs?" My eyes widen.
He cocks a brow. "Did I stutter, Eva?"
I plead silently, crossing my fingers behind my back. Holding my stare for a few more moments, Gibbs caves.
"McGee, take Ziva with you."
After they leave, Tony takes care of the computer logistics, mostly just uploading Goliath's file to the database, with a bit of backseat-driving from me.
"Computers really aren't your thing, are they?"
"Do I look like a McGeek to you?"
"Do you think it's a good idea to ask your ex-girlfriend that?"
"Good point."
Gibbs clears his throat in an obvious manner. "If you two are done flirting, we have business to tend to."
"Briefing paper's already completed, and the audio tape from interrogation is in the process of transcription."
Beep! Beep! Beep!
McGee's computer sounds an alert.
"I think it'd be better if I checked his computer." My eyes scan Tony's figure. "God knows what you would search up on it."
His eyes glare in my direction. "Did you get extra bitch with your coffee this morning?"
"Let's see what we have here." Sitting down in McGee's chair, I sink back in comfort. "McGee got a name match from Harrow's emails."
"Trent. . .Kort." Tony peers over my shoulder incessantly. "On the FBI arms dealer watchlist for the past five days." He reads off the screen.
"Very thin file. 37 years old, British national. . .um, believed to have recently joined. . ."