<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Gibbs assessed the scene and handed out orders.  "David, photos.  McGee, bag and tag.  DiNozzo, sketches."  The resulting chorus of acknowledgments and their subsequent beginning of the tasks was routine, familiar... comfortable.  At least some things hadn't changed.<br/>
<br/>
Screaming at a crime scene wasn't new either, but having the scream come from a potential witness or victim -- and from someone related to his team -- was definitely an unwelcome development.  "McGee!" he said sharply, when the young agent would have gone to what was clearly his sister.  "I need you to stay at the scene.  You and I have to hold this scene," he said firmly, forcing McGee to make eye contact.  "That dead marine still deserves justice, and he won't get it if we compromise the evidence.  Ziva and DiNozzo can handle your sister -- you can't.  You know that, Tim."<br/>
<br/>
Tony had seized the coil of rope that Gibbs always insisted be in their field kits and was racing towards Ziva and the victim.  He tossed one end to Ziva and anchored the other around his waist, waiting for Ziva to reappear.  When she did, he nodded swiftly, handed her the rope, and found a local LEO with a pick-up truck.  Very soon, that pick-up was backed up to the lake, and Tony was tying a very professional looking knot around the trailer hitch with the rope attached to the rock pinning the younger McGee.  "Alright, pull -- gently, we don't know how bad she's pinned."<br/>
<br/>
The truck rolled forward, and the rock with it.</span></span>