FIFTY TWO | inner dinozzo

                                    

                                          
"Flags of Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Saudi Arabia. What type of store was this?"
Ziva and I snap pictures of the devastating crime scene, where two of NCIS' very own agents were caught in the explosion.
"McGee's working on it."
Ducky shines a lot over the bodies of the two N.C.I.S. agents we lost. "Their deaths were almost immediate, if that's any consolation, Jethro."
"No." Gibbs looks up. "It's not, Ducky."
"It never is, no." The M.E. clicks his tongue. "All of our agents' wounds appear to have been caused by shrapnel. Specifically. . ." He bends down to grab a piece. "Ball bearings and nails: the hallmark of a homemade device."
"All emanating from this central point of the floor." Ziva gestures.
"This man appears to literally have been at the heart of the explosion."
"He was sitting on the bomb?"
"No. No, he was the bomb. A suicide bomber."
"Why blow yourself up in an empty room?"
"It wasn't empty, DiNozzo!"
Special Agent Paula Cassidy stands outside of where the door used to be. Her gaze falls on the two agents she lost, and she clutches her forehead.
McGee walks over to the group. "She insisted on being part of the investigation." He clears his throat. "I talked to the landlord. He said he'd just rented this place to a nonprofit group. Calling them and pulling the paperwork now."
"It's my fault. It's my fault! I killed my team! " She cries out painfully.
"You didn't know, Paula."
"You weren't there, Eva."
Gibbs leads her out the door and into the agency's truck, leaving us with the task to find the missing head of the bomber.
"What happened here?"
Two unfamiliar men approach the building and try to push past the two police officers in charge of securing the area.
"Hey! Calm down!" Gibbs charges towards them. "Who are you?"
"We work here." One of the states.
"For the Muslim Coalition For Peace." The other adds.
The boss motions for them to enter.
"Yazeed. Was he. . .was he in here?"
"We were supposed to help him paint this afternoon."
Ziva, who had been standing on the ladder in search of the hand, yells something muffled before a decapitated head falls from the exposed ceiling.
The first man mutters something in Arabic while the second drops to his knees.
"Do you recognize him?"
"Yazeed Fahad. Our chapter president."
After we finish assessing the crime scene, the team takes the two men back to headquarters to interrogate them.
Calmer than before, Paul joins me in the backroom. "Whatever happened to Gibbs' rule about not putting two suspects in the same room?"
"It's more of just a guideline." I shrug my shoulders.
One of the two, Jamal, admits to having lunch with Abdul at the Grace Street Diner during the time of the bombing. Gibbs looks towards the one-way mirror.
"I'm going with you."
"No, you're not." I strap my holster under my blazer. "Gibbs wants you to stay here."