Breaking Point
Disclaimer: Not my characters, making no money from this.
Though this is far from my first foray into fanfic (I've been registered on for the best part of 10 years!) this is my first foray into NCIS fanfic. Set sometime late season 9.
Dedication: For my unofficial sister, Katharina Rayner, who I originally met through and who got me hooked on NCIS in the last few months.
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Chapter 1: Missing
Putting her key into the door of her apartment, NCIS special agent Ziva David groaned. The couple next door were having another burning – no, blazing, corrected her partner's voice in her head – row. It was loud enough that she could hear what it was about: he'd left the dirty plates and cutlery in the sink. So much for a quiet night, she thought resignedly as she stepped into her apartment and closed the door. She was exhausted. And hungry – DiNozzo's idea to try the new "exotic foods" takeaway hadn't gone down well with her tastebuds.
Next door the row was getting louder. It masked the faint sound that normally Ziva would have heard. She put her hand on the back of the armchair – a present from Ducky after her old apartment had been blown up – where she liked to curl up with a book and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She didn't notice the shadow that fell over her or hear the footstep a moment before a hand was slapped over her mouth, a chemical-sodden handkerchief over the hand. Her eyes flew open as the hand pressed harder and its owner put his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. She briefly attempted to struggle, but whatever was on the handkerchief was fast-acting and she was overwhelmed, crumpling to the floor as she lost consciousness.
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NCIS special agent Tony DiNozzo strolled into the NCIS building, coffee in one hand as he removed his designer sunglasses with the other. He still didn't understand how McGee could be so chipper at this time of day.
He glanced at his watch – and swore. He would be in for a head-slap if he mistimed his arrival. Taking a hasty swig of coffee, he noted the group waiting outside the lift and opted for the stairs, rushing into the bullpen but attempting to do so in as casual a manner as he could manage. He breathed a sigh of relief: no Gibbs.
"You're safe," McGee called from his desk. "Gibbs is down with Abby – she's got a possible ID on the break-ins." He paused, frowning. "I can't remember the last time you got here before Ziva."
Tony blinked in surprise and glanced over at Ziva's desk. Sure enough, it was exactly how it had been when Gibbs had ordered the Israeli home to get some sleep the previous evening. He smirked. "Looks like she's the one who gets a head-slap instead of me for once – ow!" His hand flew to the back of his head, which had just received a firm smack. "Boss! What was that for?"
"You're four and a half minutes late, DiNozzo," came Gibbs' voice from behind him.
"But Ziva's not even here yet!" protested Tony, turning to face his boss.
"She'll get a slap as well, when she shows up," replied Gibbs. "Just because you're here before her, it doesn't make you not late."
"But –". A stern look from Gibbs silenced him and he put down his coffee. "What's Abby got?"
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An hour later, McGee threw down his pen and sighed heavily. Whoever was attempting to hack into the CIA from a Navy base was good. "But so am I," he murmured to himself in an attempt to focus. But he couldn't. Something was very wrong; he could feel it. He glanced up from his desk just in time to see Gibbs stride in, a dark look on his face. McGee exchanged looks with Tony just as Gibbs came to a stop beside them.
They waited.
"Where the hell is David?" snapped Gibbs. "She's over an hour late!"
McGee was the first to hesitantly break the silence. "Want me to call her, Boss?"
"Yes, McGee, I would."
Tony raised his eyebrows at the brusqueness of his boss's tone.
"I'll get on that right away," said McGee hastily, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through to Ziva's numbers. Under the gaze of Gibbs, he called her home phone. It rang a number of times and then the answerphone cut in. It was not unexpected. Then he tried her mobile phone.
The phone rang. And rang. After twelve rings, Ziva's voicemail cut in; McGee groaned and prepared to leave a message. "Hey, Ziva, it's me, McGee. I don't know where you are but you're really late and Gibbs is kinda foaming at the mouth. Bye." He ended the call and put his phone down on his desk. The uneasy feeling tightened its grip on his stomach as his eyes met Tony's. "She didn't answer."
Tony suddenly jumped to his feet. "Something's wrong," he declared. "I think we should go over there and check."
Gibbs nodded assent. "I've got a key. DiNozzo, grab a car. I'll go tell Vance." His words were the trigger for his team to leap into action.
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The drive to Ziva's apartment was tense and silent, and it wasn't long before they had arrived and were making their way up to her place, McGee at the front with the key in one hand and his gun in the other. He put the key in the lock and turned it .The door eased open without a sound and the agents moved cautiously in.
Tony's eyes fell on the phone lying on the floor by the armchair and, catching the attention of the others, indicated it. Silently they checked the apartment but it soon became clear that they were the only people there.
"Boss." McGee pointed out a note on Ziva's kitchen counter. "It's in Hebrew," he added.
Gibbs and Tony exchanged looks. "Eli," they said simultaneously.
"Get agents down here now," ordered Gibbs. "See if we can pick up anything for Abby. I want this place scoured. I want to find the needle in the proverbial haystack. Put out BOLOs. DiNozzo, talk to the neighbours. Who do we know that knows Hebrew?"
"Miriam Goldstein," supplied Tony. "I'm not talking to her, though – she wants to sleep with me and doesn't get the concept that I don't want to." McGee gave him a dubious look. "What?" This time Gibbs rolled his eyes. That sent them scurrying back to work.
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TBC