Physical Threat
Ziva sat, her hands ties behind the chair, her face tilted towards the floor. Her eyes were closed as if sleeping, but her face bore an expression of pure pain. She remained silent.
One of the guards came into her cell, careful to close the door fully shut. He walked towards her, slowly, carefully. He carried a bottle of water in one hand, a muslin cloth in the other.
"Little drink, sweetie?" He asked with a grin on his brown, round face.
She looked up at him with one good eye, the other clamped shut with blood and skin.
"I'm surprised you have the courtesy to speak in English," she spat. "No, I don't want your water. I'd rather die than be bribed to tell you anything."
"Oh, please darling? For me?" He leaned over her, careful to keep his gun away from her tied hands. Who knew what these Mossad assassins could do when an opportunity was given? "What about torture? Would you keep quiet if you were in that much pain?"
"I've experienced torture before," she murmured. "It wouldn't be the first time I've had to withhold information."
The guard stepped back, unsure of her meaning for a second. He was surprised by the fact that she wasn't screaming; begging not to be tortured; promising that she would give them the information they needed; that she would cooperate.
But then he checked himself. She was a Mossad assassin, for God's sake: she had probably been through all kinds of torture already.
"You're lucky, then." He said it with an air of amusement. "It'll be easier for you."
He placed the cloth and the bottle of water in one corner of the room, then went to the door and rapped four times. The door opened and in came another man: but this one was in a white coat. Ziva studied him: she hadn't seen him before. He was white, with blonde hair and, from what she could see, brown eyes. He wore large round glasses, and his appearance was smart and alert, apart from the large, dark rings under his eyes. He held a small needle and a bottle of clear liquid.
He walked towards her, and stopped about a metre away from her feet. He bent down to her level.
"I am Dr. Arroyo. I am a psychologist and doctor. I am here to carry out your..." He paused for a moment, searching for the right word. "...questioning. Do you know what this is?" He gestured towards the small bottle he was holding in his right hand.
Ziva shook her head. "I have an idea, but you might as well tell me."
"It's the poison of the Scorpion Fish – also known as the Lion Fish, Stone Fish, Fire Fish, Turkey Fish, Dragon Fish and Sting Fish. The poison is deadly and can cause tetanus, or just kill you straight out. I must warn you, it hurts. Badly. It is one of the worst pains known to man. It is also quite hard to get hold of."
She shrugged as best as she could in her ropes. He saw this, and smiled a half-smile that sent a chill down her spine.
"You think you can withstand the pain."
"I know I can."
His eyes suddenly blazed with anger. "No, you can't."
She stayed calm, keeping a poker face as she said: "Yes, I can. There is only one- no, let me correct myself. There are only two things I am afraid of in this world. You will be able to find one easily enough... but you will never find the other." She stared defiantly at the man. "Never."
The doctor smiled again, a grin that revealed his rotted and blackened teeth. "You are referring to your lover."
Her mouth opened slightly.
"Got you there, didn't I? Yes, we know about your lover... a Mr. DiNozzo, yes? We hear he's very handsome."
"How did you-"
"We have our means."
"But if you have your means, why do you need me?"
"You have higher information. You are close to Jethro Gibbs, are you not? We also need other information... but that is for you to tell us as you wish."
"Your other fear is the fear of someone getting inside your head. It is the mental hurt that frightens you, and not the physical hurt. And that is why, during your pain, I will be questioning you, getting inside your head. I am a psychologist, psychiatrist, and essentially a hypnotist, as well as being a doctor of medicine. It took me a long time, but I did it. And now for your questioning."
He inserted the thin needle into the small bottle, and drew out a small amount of the liquid.
"I'm not going to clean the needle," he said, "simply because my bosses don't care whether you live or die: only that you talk."
As he approached her, brandishing the needle, she stiffened.
"Don't tense your arm like that; you'll only make it worse." He said this in a sing-song voice, as if talking to a child.
Grudgingly, she relaxed her arm, but kept the rest of her body stiff as he came to her side.
He reached out, holding the needle. He was standing right in front of her.
He reached out to her left arm.
The needle brushed her skin-
"OW!" he yelled as she brought her leg quickly up into the general groin area. The needle dropped to the floor as he let go of it, and the poison also dropped, the bottle smashing and the poison running across the floor.
Moving as quickly as she could, Ziva tipped her chair over and bent so that her hand reached the needle on the floor. The doctor was still writhing on the floor, groaning in agony as this time she approached towards him.
She jabbed the needle into his chest, and as he screamed she whispered in his ear: "You will not touch Anthony DiNozzo as long as I'm alive."
And as the guards rushed through the door to find out what was going on in the prison cell, she sat there and watched the man in front of her die.
Hello everyone!
As always, please read and review: good or bad comments are always gratefully received; but please, if you say something like 'This story is really boring' PLEASE tell me why!
I haven't updated any stories or made any new ones recently, but I promise to try and write more soon!
Thanks,
Xanthemj