Gibbs sat at his desk, allowing his eyes to drift towards the empty desk where once his Mossad Liaison Officer sat. It had been almost a week since he had left her standing aghast on the tarmac at Tel Aviv airport. He still clung to the hope that she would eventually see the forest for the trees and realise the mistake she had made. He knew where her heart lay and where she belonged, even if she was questioning it. There had been no communication from Israel which added to his sense of unease. He had expected to hear from Ziva after a few days and was surprised to have heard nothing. He enquired whether Abby had heard from her and saw how disappointed she was not to have even received an e-mail from her. Gibbs was beginning to wonder if he had been wrong this whole time. Despite the insistence of Vance and others that Ziva was not as loyal to NCIS as he had always assumed, Gibbs refused to believe that this was the case. He saw what it had done to her to have to shoot her own half brother in order to save his life. Even if she was only following orders from her father, it wasn't easy for her and to this day he knew she still fought those demons. He took a large sip from his coffee mug and returned to his paper work.
Tony glanced over at his boss. He had been subdued for the last few days, ever since their return from Israel. He knew how much he missed Ziva and how he hated his team being torn apart. There had been no word from Ziva. This worried Tony. They had parted on such difficult terms and he felt like he just couldn't leave things the way they had ended. He checked his cell phone dozens of times each day, hoping for some communication from her but so far there had been nothing. He rubbed his injured left arm which was aching once again. It still acted as a physical reminder of his final dealings with Ziva and Rivkin. Right now he was supposed to be doing reports for Gibbs but was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate. At least Gibbs wasn't on his back looking for them like he usually was. As he re-read what he had typed on his monitor, he was startled when Director Vance shouted from the landing at MTAC for Gibbs to join him.
Gibbs looked up at Vance and then threw a quizzical look towards DiNozzo. He shrugged his shoulders before rising to his feet and grabbing another quick swig from his coffee. He trotted up the stairs and joined Leon on the landing.
"What is it, Leon?" Gibbs asked impatiently. He still hadn't forgotten how Vance had goaded him straight after he returned from Tel Aviv. His trust in his director was diminishing each day. His suspicions were growing yet he couldn't put his finger on exactly why.
"I've just had a call from Director David. He's asked for our assistance," Vance told him. "My office!"
Gibbs followed Vance into his office. He was surprised to see Fornell and a U.S. Marine General already seated at the meeting table. He nodded a voiceless greeting to each of them as he took his seat.
"You know Fornell," Leon began. "This is General Paul Jackson, Department of Defence. He might be able to help us with this one."
"Which 'one' exactly are you talking about?" Gibbs asked immediately.
"The day after you left Tel Aviv, Eli David ordered a group of his best officers to Somalia to find and eliminate the threat that the terrorist training camp posed. They were transported by freighter and were to land on the coast and make their way on foot to the camp. That was five days ago. There has been no communication from them since. They were supposed to make contact on landing and then again on location of the camp. No communication was ever received. It's as if they have vanished. He has requested our help in locating them," Leon explained.
"Why us?" Gibbs asked. "It's hardly our problem."
"His daughter is one of the missing officers," Vance announced.
"Ziva?" Gibbs exclaimed, his voice catching slightly on her name.
"Yes. He specifically asked for you, Gibbs," Leon told him, looking him in the eye. He waited to see how Gibbs would react but was frustrated when Gibbs retained his composed exterior and said nothing.
"So I have agreed to assist Mossad in locating their operatives. Have you any objection to that Agent Gibbs?" Vance asked disparagingly.
"Why would I object? So, have you got a plan of action?" Gibbs wondered, being careful not to be too snide to his director in front of guests.
"We do," Fornell piped up.
"I was wondering when you were going to jump in," Gibbs smiled to his old fiend.
"With the assistance of some troops already in the area, we are going in covertly. We will have 6 hours to locate the officers and get out of there. The DOD has authorised a missile strike on the camp so we won't have time to muck about," Fornell informed him.
"We?" Gibbs asked, a little surprised by Fornell's inclusion of himself in the mission.
"Yeah, we," Fornell replied. "This is a joint intelligence stroke rescue mission. If we manage to capture some high ranking terrorists while we're there, all the better. "
"Fine, do we know the exact location of this camp?" Gibbs asked.
"Satellite pictures show the camp is located here," General Jackson says, standing up and pointing to an area of desert almost fifty kilometres inland from the coast of Somalia on the map on the plasma screen. "The USS Ronald Reagan is currently in the Indian Ocean making its way to the area. We plan to airlift you to the carrier and from there deploy you in smaller landing craft to come ashore south of Obbia. A unit of Navy Seals will land with you. Once landed you'll be on your own until you radio the carrier for extraction. The Somalia government do not know we are carrying out this operation. If you get caught, you're on your own. We will deny any knowledge of the operation," the General explained coldly.
"Great, that's comforting," Gibbs commented looking towards Fornell. Fornell nodded in agreement.
"I will not order you to undertake this mission, Gibbs," Vance said. "This is voluntary. You can refuse and I will not think any less of you."
Gibbs smiled at Vance's words. He would not think any less of him. Not possible, Gibbs thought.
"You know I'll go, Leon" he decided immediately.
"And your team? I'll authorise them to go if you need them," Vance informed him.
"No, it's too risky and DiNozzo's injured. We'll be fine, right Tobias?"
"If you say so," Fornell replied.
"When do we leave?" Gibbs asked.
"Be at Norfolk Naval Air Station at 1700 hours. We'll have gear and weapons waiting for you," General Jackson told them. "Good luck gentlemen."
"Thanks," Fornell said standing and shaking the General's hand. Gibbs stood and did the same.
The two pals left the director's office, leaving the General and the Director to finalise plans for the operation. As they descended the stairs into the open office they smiled and joked. Gibbs reached his desk and sat while Fornell continued towards the elevator.
"So, I'll see you at 1700 hours then," Fornell said as he bade farewell. Gibbs raised his head and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. Then as Fornell disappeared behind the closing elevator doors, Gibbs noticed McGee and DiNozzo looking at him.
"So, Boss, what was all that about?" DiNozzo asked bravely.
Gibbs was reluctant to tell them because he knew that they'd want to be involved in the rescue mission. So he decided to lie.
"Dinner date," he said without looking up. Lying was becoming easier and easier the longer he spent at this job he noticed. McGee or DiNozzo knew better to comment on how early that would be for dinner, but then again this was Gibbs and he did things according to his own timetable.
During the afternoon Gibbs slipped down to see Abby before he went. He just couldn't leave without saying goodbye to her.
"Gibbs!" she exclaimed as usual, delighted to see him. "Just what the doctor ordered," she said grabbing the Kaf Pow from his extended hand.
"So what brings you down to the dungeons? Was I supposed to do something for you?" she asked sheepishly.
"Nope," he smiled. "Just came down to say goodbye."
"Goodbye? Where are you going?" Abby asked half worried half surprised.
"Classified," he said apologetically.
"No, I don't like classified! Classified means dangerous. Why does it have to always be dangerous where you're going? That's so unfair. I mean how am I supposed to get anything done while you're away? I'll spend all my time worrying," she preached crossly.
"Don't worry Abs. I'll be fine," he said giving her a peck on the cheek. She stood sombrely with a sad look on her face. She hated when his team went on missions. Especially lately, too much bad stuff had happened. Gibbs bid her farewell and left the lab with his usual swagger.
"Come back safely!" she shouted after him. "Please," she whispered to herself.
Gibbs left the building without returning to the office or saying anything to Tony or McGee. He went home and readied himself for what was coming. He knew this mission was fraught with risk and that he would have to be physically and mentally fit for the challenges that lay ahead. He thought of Ziva and felt pangs of guilt for leaving her in Israel. He prayed that she was still alive. He hoped this would be a rescue mission and not a recovery one.
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