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“I didn’t think they could survive outside their armor.”
Tim looked over his shoulder as Tony entered the observation room. “Didn’t Gibbs tell you no more food in observation?”
Tony crunched on his popcorn as if to make a point. “Boss has bigger concerns right now.” He stopped at Tim’s shoulder and looked through the window at their suspect. “Much, much bigger.”
On the other side of the window sat an impressively stoic Master Chief Petty Officer John-117.
Tim squinted. “You think Gibbs finally met his match?”
“Are you kidding me? This is no match.” Tony stepped closer to the window, clearly enjoying the situation. “This might be one of the few humans alive who could mop the floor with Gibbs.”
Tim spared his fellow agent an annoyed glance. “I meant, his match at interrogation.”
“Even Gibbs won’t mess with a Spartan,” Tony said.
“Yeah, but what if the Spartan decides to mess with him?” Tim inclined his head toward the window. “This isn’t just ‘a Spartan,’ either. We’re talking about the Master Chief.”
“Unlike some people in this room, I don’t live under a rock, McIntrovert,” Tony said. “Do you think he did it?”
Tim crossed his arms thoughtfully and regarded the Chief. “Ducky said normal human strength couldn’t have caused the victim’s injuries, and it looks like the Chief was the last person to see her.” He chewed his lip in thought. "But Abby didn't find a DNA match--"
The Master Chief lifted his eyes to the window.
Tony swatted Tim’s arm. “He can see us.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “No, he can’t.”
“Yes, he can!”
“It’s two-way glass!”
Tony leaned in. “I heard they have x-ray vision.”
“Spartans do not have x-ray vision,” Tim said flatly.
“How do you know?”
"Because nobody has x-ray vision!”
“‘Nobody’ can bench-press a warship, either, and these guys can do that.”
“They’re not all guys. You know that, right?”
Tony paused. “They all look the same.”
Tim rolled his eyes again. "And just how many Spartans have you seen?"
“I bet he can hear us, too,” Tony kept going.
“Oh, my God, Tony,” Tim groaned.
“They have super-hearing,” Tony whispered.
“Where do you get all this?” Tim asked. “The Spartans are classified higher than we’ll ever see. I can’t believe ONI is letting us in the same room with them.” That alone deserved its own investigation, Tim thought.
“I hear things,” Tony whispered dramatically.
"With your super-hearing?"
"People talk."
“And you believe them? Great investigative work,” McGee shot.
The discussion abruptly stopped as the interrogation room’s door clicked open. Both agents watched their boss sit at the table. Even with Gibbs’s back to the window, Tim could see the look on his boss’s face.
Gibbs didn’t set his file on the table with as much aplomb as usual, Tim noticed.
Maybe the Chief does have him rattled.
No. Nobody rattled Gibbs. The file must be part of a strategy.
Tony chewed on his popcorn. “Maybe Boss should have sent Ziva in. She’d have John Master Chief here singing like a bird, Spartan or not.”
Gibbs folded his hands on the table.
The Master Chief stared back unblinkingly.
Tim watched the scene with a nervous anticipation. “Which one of them is gonna talk first?”