Escape
Too long had I lived under my father and his rules. Too long had I trained. Too long I have learned to not feel. I needed a change, agents everyone wishes I needed a change.
So l leave. My father is furious he gives me a long and boring argument that I only half hear and comprehend. My mind is sent, my bags are packed and my ticket is bought, and waiting for me to board the plane.
"You cannot do this to Mossod Ziva" he screamed at me.
"I can do whatever I want, and Mossod can live on and prosper without me." I snapped back at my father's statement.
"You have nowhere to go Ziva. You have not place but Mossod! Would you leave Mossod?" My father, but more of the director part of him showing when he spoke, more like screamed at the top of his lungs.
"I don't care; I can go anywhere I want!" I said those words then I turned carelessly to leave and I said over my shoulder "And Papa don't come looking for me, it will only cause you pain." Then I left his office and returned to the top floor lobby. I grabbed my tattered old back pack and walked out the front doors to the open air of a Tel Aviv afternoon.
I navigated my way to my car outside the Mossod building, which I parked conveniently on the street and I got in. I drove directly to the air port, I must have run about 4 red lights which I had run over 200 in my life time and I am only 17. I parked on a side lot and got my bags out of the trunk and proceeded to the security station.
I got passed the security with ease, I just had to show my Mossod badge and my gun and I went right through, no questions asked. Just how I like it.
The wait for the plane felt endless. I kept glancing over my shoulder to make sure that I was not being followed. After a half hour of that I decided that I was paranoid and no one was going to come looking for me. I was rather surprised because knowing my father he would have sent the entire Mossod out looking for me. But he did not he respected my wish for once in my life.
Although he might have wanted me to get a head start, but how long could he search be postponed?
He knew that I was the best and never made me forget it. He was proud of me on a professional level only, I was a full Mossod Officer and I was only 17. That is just the sort of thing that he is proud of me for, the other things that I do is extra that he thinks is worthless. .
I boarded the plane and I remembered how long flights from Tel Aviv can be they are really, really long. When the plane finally landed in New York City it was almost 2 o'clock pm. I thought to myself, if get out of here by 3 I should make it to my designation by 5pm. Although customs took way too long. The stupid customs people did not think that I was Mossod; A) they thought I was too young B) they did not know what Mossod was and C) they thought that I was a terrorist. All those options are not the best thing to say about me but I bet they thought it any way.
After almost 45 minutes of yelling at them in Hebrew, which I did to confuse them, I finally go to pick up the car that I had arranged. I rented a red convertible mustang. It was a fast car and it drove very well for my taste of cars.
I drove through the crowded New York City streets until I got onto the high way. I did not get pulled over once which was good because I did not want to charm my way out of my first speeding ticket already, and my trip had just started. After that it did not take very long to get to the address that I had found with the Mossod issue laptop I had.
The street with house and cars lining the streets were very large. The houses were huge, at least from the side that was facing the streets. But I knew that the other way was million dollar views of the ocean and the beach. I looked at ever house number, 49, 47,45,43,41, that was it. I pulled into the driveway, already parked in it was a light chocolate brown convertible. At the house next door I could see more expensive looking cars in the drive way.
I climbed out of the car and walked to the front door, I knocked. When the door opened it looked like I was looking into a mirror, although the woman on the other side looked older but you could still see the resemblance between mother and daughter.
"Hi, how can I help you?" the woman asked with a puzzled expression on her face.
"You might not remember me but I am Ziva. I am your daughter, I think the last time you say was when I was 2 then you left my father and Israel." I answered calmly, although my mother's expression was very different than how I imagined it.
"Ziva, Ziva David, is that you? You look so different than I imagined, come in, come in" she answered, she looked happy so that must be good.
"Thank you" I entered into a very large family room, with a huge bay window facing the amazing beach.
"So Ziva, I have not seen you for 15 years. Don't mind me asking but why you are here?" she asked and her puzzled expression returned to her face.
"I know that I should have called first but… I was wondering if I could stay with you, only for some time." I said hopefully.
"I don't want to be rude but why would you want to do that? And my only child is always welcome at my home." She said and a smile was painted on her face.
"Um, well you remember my father. He is the Director of Mossod and he is sort of pushing me into some things that I would rather never be pushed into in my life time. So I left and you are the only person that I really know out of Mossod so I came here. And my dad hates you so he would never come looking for me here."
"All right Ziva you can stay, I am always looking for some more company, let me show you to your room, do you want to grab your bags?"
"Yeah let me go grab them from inside the car." I walked outside and I felt that someone was staring at me. I looked around but I saw no one. I whispered to myself "Just getting use to America Ziva, calm down" then I got my bags and locked the car and returned to the beach house.
When I reentered the house my mom said "Wow you pack light."
Well I don't own every much, most of my clothes are for training and all, and they are not every good in the city or at the beach. Although my father restricts me from buying most cloths. " I said
"He still is, well if you need new cloths just tell me, I have mountains of them and we can always go shopping."
"Thank you…"
"Oh you can call me Becky, I am not big on formality and I don't want to seam really old. I still can't believe that you are here, I feel it I have not seen you in at least 20 years and I never really expected to ever see you again."
"What do you mean?"
"I just expected your father to have…kept you from leaving; he is quite the control freak." Then we both laughed.
"Oh yeah there is that, can I see my room now, I am rather tired." I said, although I was not one bit tired, in Mossod we were trained to adjust aromatically to the time zone that we would be in. Otherwise it might blow our cover; it is not really hard to find a few extremely tired people that are trained to kill.
"Oh yes follow me." She grabbed one of my lighter bags and walked rapidly through the hallways. "For some back ground I am a layer, this is a 4 bedroom 3 ½ bathroom beach front property. There are 2 bedroom and bath rooms on the top level, but you will be on the 2nd floor and I am on the 3rd." By this time we were standing in a small hall way with 2 doors and a stair case.
"One of the bedrooms is facing the street and the other is facing the beach, so you can have either. No one else but me lives here. And my office is upstairs…so I will leave you to unpack and I am up stairs if you need me."
"Thank you Becky, I really mean it." We bid goodbye and went our separate ways. My bedroom was huge; one entire wall was windows facing the ocean and the beach. There was a large king size bed that stood ageist one of the walls. A dresser, desk, and a couch and other peaces of furniture were placed in the room. There was 2 doors one lead to a huge bathroom, and the other was a huge closet that my supply of clothes would look ever smaller then when I was a Mossod.
I unpacked my things very carefully. I hid the array of weapons that I had brought with me then I went down stairs.
"Do you like your room Ziva?" Becky asked as I entered the kitchen.
"It is perfect; it has a much better view than I would think. Thanks again." I said cheerfully.
"Any time. There are a few things that we should talk about before anyone gets too comfortable. And the sooner I saw them the better I will feel." I nodded and she continued. "First, we need to get you a new real car not like the one that you rented, your own car. We can get that tomorrow and return the other car that you have. Also I want to make sure that you will be OK when I am not home, you will be alone."
"Oh yeah, considering most of my life I have been alone it should be fine." I said, I had been alone when my roommate at the Mossod rooms was not there, she was always out with guys, although it was agents the rules."
"Great and the last thing is your schooling. I know that it is summer but if you stay we have to enroll you soon so you can get a spot in the senior class."
"Um, I completed my GED when I was either 14 or 15. Then I went to college for a few months then I started training full time."
"All right cool. I am going to order Pizza want any?"
"I like plain thanks." Then I stepped out to the deck and Becky was ordering. "Why did I not grow up here instead of there?" I mumbled to myself and looked out to the vast ocean.
20 minutes later the pizza was at the house and Becky and I ate in silence. Then cleaned up in silence, then we both left to go to our separate rooms. I am pretty sure that she has no idea how she is going to work this parenting thing. But a Mossod assassin is not that hard to take care of.
I got in my bed leaving the shades open so that I could see the moon light and right before I fell asleep I felt like I was being watched again.
