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Part 2 of The Frost Chronicles
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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Valkyrie-Funeral Rites

Summary:

Two weeks after the conclusion of Valkyrie, Gibbs' Team and the Pack must bury the dead and get on with living.

Work Text:

"All Stop."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"Aircraft carriers don’t exactly stop on a dime, do they Captain Ross?" Director Vance’s observation was a rye one, made with his usual toothpick firmly in place, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked out the pilothouse window.

Ross looked up. "No, Director Vance. They don’t."

Silence fell over the pilothouse for a few moments as seamen made adjustments. Distantly Vance could make out the silhouette of a black, triple-mast schooner sitting at anchorage: the Kobiyashi Moru. A small boat detached itself from its side and powered up, foam breaking on its bow as it sped away from the black hulk. Vance watched until the boat tied up to its mother craft: one of the Enterprise’s companion frigates. He counted the seamen disembarking, and nodded when he was satisfied.

"Don’t want any accidents now," he muttered.

"Director?"

Vance turned back to Captain Ross. He was an experienced sailor, and hardened by the events of the past six weeks, but he was also new at his job. SecNav had bumped Ross from ExO to Captain after Captain Hunt’s death.

"Showtime, Captain."

------------------------------------------

Every available hand was lined up on deck in their dress whites, except for the knot of civilians and agents on the foredeck. Men and women in their Sunday best gathered there, some of which the Director recognized, and some he did not. Each person held either a wreath or a bouquet.

Vance searched the crowd until he found the tall Canadian he was looking for: Howard Talon, promoted to Interpol Captain when his own was found to be an accomplice to rape, torture, and murder. "Howard," he shook the man’s hand firmly, "good of you to come. Nice to see you again, too, Miriam."

Miriam shook his hand as well. "Wouldn’t miss this for the world, Leon. Brynja is a friend, you know." She looked around, "although I couldn’t see bringing the girls. They’re spending the day with Diane and Emily at the zoo."

"That’s probably for the best," Vance agreed. "Jackie and I made arrangements for our kids to visit their grandparents. Have either of you seen…"

"I’m right here, Director," said Gibbs. Vance turned to his left, and found Gibbs with his hands on the wheelchair holding Brynja. Gibbs actually wore a suit for once, Vance saw, and Brynja was dressed in a loose-fitting black wrap dress, her bare head covered by a silk scarf that lifted in the wind.

"The girls are here, too, Director," Brynja offered. "They insisted on coming, in fact." She motioned stiffly with her head to where DiNozzo and McGee held similar wheelchair handles.

"I can’t believe your doctors approved of this," Jackie commented, appearing from the crowd to take her husband’s arm.

"He is here as well," said Brynja, pointing again, "so are some of the hospital staff that treated our original seven, but I don’t think any of those families came at all."

"Can’t say as I blame them," offered Ducky. "They associate this ship with their children’s abuse. Visiting would be out of the question."

"Looks like the Chaplains are getting ready to start, Frost. We had better get in line," Gibbs said, pushing the wheelchair to a pre-arranged spot. "Excuse us, everyone."

"I can move the chair myself, Agent Gibbs. You don’t need to chauffeur me all over the deck," Brynja protested, reaching for her wheel handles. Gibbs scowled at her, and reached down to squeeze her arms back.

"No you don’t," he growled. "You pull a stunt like that, and you’ll bust out those sutures. Siddown and let me drive."

"Do you even know where you’re going? I noticed you didn’t get a visitor’s map when we came onboard, and there must be at least 200 people here!"

Gibbs coughed in exasperation. "Nag, nag, nag! I’ve been an NCIS agent for 20 years, Frost; I’ve been on an aircraft carrier before. I know my way around, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Just don’t get used to it!"

Brynja laughed softly. "I won’t; I promise." She looked around carefully. "Do you see the girls?"

"They’re behind us now."

---------------------------------------------

"Ir sujetar, Tio Tony, ir sujetar!" Sofia squealed, kicking her feet. "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"What’s she saying, Tony?" McGee asked. He and Tony pushed identical wheelchairs: Tony driving Sofia, and McGee driving Elsa around the deck.

The sea breeze lifted Tony’s hair a little, but didn’t budge his sunglasses. He looked over at McGee momentarily. "Figure it out, Probie. You’re 9 years old and stuck in a wheelchair, which is being pushed by an enormous cop. What do you think she’s saying?"

"Ah." McGee leaned over Elsa’s head. "Ir sujetar, Elsa?"

The child grinned up at him. "Si’, Tio Tim, si’!"

McGee started jogging slowly, then put on more speed to catch up with Gibbs and Brynja. Elsa shrieked in delight.

"Mama’! Mama’! No manos! Wheeeeeee!"

"Hey, Probie! No cutting in front of your superiors or the older sibling!" Tony started jogging to catch up, much to Sofia’s delight.

-----------------------------------------

"Kids these days," Billie laughed softly, watching McGee and DiNozzo race down the deck with the girls, "I wonder if they’ll ever really grow up?"

"Of course they….oh, you meant the agents," Frank said. He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "Nope. Those boys are doomed." He looked up at the activity on the podium. "Looks like things are starting, dear. We should take our places."

"Of course." Billie sighed a little sadly, and patted the back of his hand with her left. A small diamond solitaire glittered on her third finger. "I wish Ivan could have known about us, though, Frank. Do you think he would have approved?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You really think an old profiler like him never noticed? Of course he approves!"

Grasping their bouquets, they moved into position.

-----------------------------------------

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please," Captain Ross began. "We need to get down to business here."

The ceremony was short, and the mood somber. Sailors in full dress uniform lined the deck and surrounded the civilian guests. After Captain Ross’ introduction and an invocation, several different chaplains offered prayers to Almighty God on behalf of the deceased. Another was offered for the peace and healing of the survivors and families. Water was poured onto a chosen spot on the deck and was swiftly scoured away, symbolically removing the innocent blood from the ship. A hymn was sung, and then Captain Ross read the roll call of the dead, naming each victim as people threw their flowers into the sea. Many cried openly. When every flower had been tossed overboard, so that the Enterprise looked like it was afloat on a garden, Gibbs wheeled Brynja back to the platform.

"Sure you can do this?" he asked, helping her slowly out of her chair.

She grimaced as she stood, and he put a hand on one elbow to support her. "It isn’t a question of can, Gibbs; I MUST do this," she insisted. He nodded his support, and she stepped up to the microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she began, "we have only begun to start our journey towards healing. We have prayed; we have sung; we have symbolically scoured innocent blood from the ship; we have cast our grief to the wind and our flowers to the waves. If there remain any victims unknown or unnamed, then here and now we ask for God’s peace for them. Let the guilt of their sufferings rest where it belongs: on the perpetrators." Pausing for a moment, she took a drink from a water bottle in front of her.

"This is a ship of war," she continued, "but also an agent of peace and the alleviation of suffering. She is no stranger to either trouble or peril. The evil that took place here dishonored her and stained her deck, but the stains cannot remain. Her decks are made of steel, and the blood has been washed away!" She delivered the last at a yell, pounding her hand on the podium for emphasis. "This ship and this crew will move on from this tragedy, and will once again kick ass and take names for the good of their country!"

This last statement was met with loud cheers from the crew, and applause from the crowd. Brynja held up a hand, and it quickly subsided.

"Not so the Kobiyashi Moru," Brynja continued. "Her decks are made of wood, and that wood is permanently stained with the blood of her victims. Her nature and purpose are corrupted beyond healing, her owners beyond hope of reform. Let those who suffered find refuge in God, and comfort that the Moru will never, ever, sail again. Captain Ross," she turned to him and saluted, then stepped away from the microphone. Gibbs offered to help her back into her chair, but she waved his hand away, choosing to stand instead.

Captain Ross mounted the platform, and as one the audience turned to face the black schooner anchored in the east, its sails furled.

"CAPTAINS, ARE YOU READY?" Ross bellowed into his radio. From the conning tower lights flashed signals to the accompanying frigates.

"AYE, CAPTAIN ROSS." The answers came crackling back over the radio.

"SEND IT TO HELL!"

Tall cannons on board the Enterprise’s companion frigates erupted in fire and thunder, and the Kobiyashi Moru was first illuminated, then consumed by the ordinance that fell on her. As fire penetrated its deck, more explosions rocked the hold, and the Moru splintered and died. The sea rushed into the gutted hold and sucked her to the bottom. Soon all that was left were burning wooden shards, floating forlornly on the quiet ocean swell.

--------------------------------------------

"We’re one shot over, Gibbs. I don’t think Liam would mind if you joined us for the last toast," Howard said, handing Gibbs a glass.

Gibbs nodded and took it.

"BULLDOGS!" Gibbs and the remaining Pack members raised their glasses in unison, and each slammed a shot of MacPhail’s 1940 Scotch.

"Oh, god, how could he drink this stuff," coughed Billie. Eric laughed, and leaned over to smack her on the back.

"Practice, grand-pup. Lots and lots of practice," he said with a wink. Billie’s eyes bugged out, but she laughed in return, then became somber as she grabbed her second shot: vodka.

"For Ivan," Frank announced, and they raised their glasses in silence, then drained them and set them down on the bar.

Brynja sat at the end of the bar, her back facing the wall but not touching it, and Eric walked over to her.

"What now, cherie? I have seen that look before, you know. Will you be coming back to Lyon?"

Brynja sighed, and looked across the bar to the restaurant seating, where Tony and Tim sat with Sofia and Elsa.

"Not for a while, Eric. I have business to finish here," he raised an eyebrow, and she hastened to explain. "There are still Normand’s and the other trials to consider. I have to appear as a witness in the prosecutor’s case, you know. After that," she sighed again, "I don’t really know. I’d like to adopt Elsa and Sofia, but I have to find their natural family first, if I can. They’re probably in Spain. I’ve been in touch with the Spanish consulate, but…"

"Leave that to Gunter, Raul, and me, Cherie. You have healing to do, oi’? Let us handle the leg work for awhile." He reached for some of the peanuts on the bar. "We can do that for you, at least."

She smiled a little weakly. "Merci, Eric. I appreciate it."

"You have some good friends here, you know." He looked from Gibbs, to DiNozzo, to McGee, to Abby, and then back to Brynja.

"I know," she paused to wipe a stray tear. "Starting over is just…hard."

"You’re going to be ok. Never doubt that." He bent over and kissed her lightly on the forehead, his hand cupping the back of her head, and then joined the rest of the group.

Gibbs, seeing them separate, walked over. "How ya feelin’, Frost?"

She smiled a little wryly. "Unemployed."

He started. "You weren’t seriously…"

"Terminated? No. But once this case is closed I’m resigning from Interpol." She paused for a moment to swirl the ice in her fresh glass of tonic water. "I just uncovered a Transatlantic cell of bad cops, an escaped inmate who happened to be my boss’ grandson, lost two partners and another co-worker, and finished by killing my boss and my boyfriend. Nobody in this organization, outside of the people in this room, is going to have my back again. Ever. I can’t go back."

"There’s plenty of agencies here tonight that aren’t Interpol, you know. Just in case you need a place to go," he said softly.

Her blue eyes met his, and the ice was finally gone. "And I have family here, too."

"Yep."

Together they watched DiNozzo and McGee ‘sword fight’ with straws over a large plate of chili-cheese fries. The spectacle made Elsa and Sofia squeal with laughter, and Gibbs and Frost both laughed.

"Brynja, what’s a svikari?" She looked at him, surprised. "It’s something you said when we surfaced."

"It means," she paused, "‘shark’ and ‘traitor’. I thought it fit the occasion."

"Nice touch, Valkyrie," he nodded approvingly. "Come on," he said, helping her up from her chair. "Let’s stop our kids before they start a food fight with those fries."

The End.

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