Prologue

Tel Aviv, Israel

"You're sure he's in there Jack?"

The voice had come from the back of the group, the end of the line, the bottom of the barrel. The other members of this queue quickly turned towards the intruding sound. To Agent Jack Korella of the CIA, that meant only one thing: that Christopher Jenkins, junior CIA agent, reconnaissance operative and general nuisance, may have just given away their position to the very last person you wanted to know you are coming.

Korella closed his eyes and bit his tongue to avoid delivering a particularly scathing remark towards the young recon officer. Although he strongly had an urge to do so, he refrained so as not to further jeopardize their mission. One thing he had learned early in his career was never to take more time that what was required. Finish your mission, do whatever it takes to accomplish your goals. Especially when it was an assassination mission. One mistake could mean the difference between success and failure. And when you were trying to take down someone such as him, failure was definitely not an option…

But dammit, sometimes the boy just doesn't THINK, Korella thought to himself. He knows perfectly well just WHO we're tracking. What, did he suppose it was his idea of a good time to go barging into a Tel Aviv mosque in the dead of night, in the company of an irritating recon operative, two personality-less Israeli Mossad agents and a Canadian…what the hell was the name of their spy agency anyway? His knowledge of Canada was admittedly dismal to say the least, but that name was so goddamn complicated. CSIS, he remembered. Those were the initials. And he's about as colourful as his Israeli counterparts.

With a slight turn of his head, Korella muttered back to Jenkins, "Completely sure."

The CSIS agent nodded and drew his pistol. "You remember what we told you? A clear shot to one of the venerable areas. You dare not miss, Agent. If so, you will not be alive long enough to regret it."

"Don't worry about me. I'm the one who knows him, remember? It's you four who have no idea what you're up against."

"You forget," One of the Mossad agents stepped forward. "We helped create him. We gave him those abilities." He drew a pistol from his back. "And now it is time for us to take them back."

Korella drew his own pistol, resisting the impulse to explain to the wooden faced Israeli that he had known an entire team…no, the team…his old team…God, how long ago HAD that been? Three years? In that time, only three members were still breathing: himself, the female Mossad agent who had left after Somalia…and him.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Korella pushed open the door and slowly walked inside, gun sweeping the area. The four other operatives entered behind him, guns in hand.

The two Mossad agents immediately, and stealthily, made their way down the sides of the mosque, checking every single nook and cranny as they went along. The CSIS operative took up a position near the door; though less in the open, he was nonetheless keeping his eyes focused on anywhere an ambush may come from. Jenkins kept close to him, his eyes nervously darting around, a clear sign of inexperience. And one that would make him an ideal target.

Korella took the front of the of the gigantic room. He was no fool; he knew exactly who they were dealing with. He knew what he was capable of. And there was no chance he was going to let him get away.

He checked a corner, gun sweeping from side to side. Though he could see the immediate area was clear, he was not relieved in the slightest. He was here, that was certain. And if you didn't have him in your sights, you may as well kiss your life good-

Korella spun around. He had heard something, a sound resonating throughout the building. The other agents apparently had heard it as well; they immediately turned around, their weapons at the ready. Jenkins and the CSIS agent slowly began converging into the centre of the room.

Then it came again. A low, resonating laugh that seemed to be emanating from every single corner at the same time. A man's laughter. His laughter…

Korella felt a sweat break his forehead. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his gun steady as walked towards the centre, looking up at the dark ceiling in an effort to try to glimpse him.

"Oh, Jackie-boy," the low voice resonated throughout the room. "You're out of practise in this gig. Your heartbeat is getting higher. When was the last time you were in a situation like this?"

Korella didn't answer. He kept his eyes to the ceiling- the area where the voice seemed to be coming from. The rest of the team followed suite.

None of them noticed the large dark coated figure drop down behind Jenkins. None of them heard his combat boots touch the ground. And Jenkins never knew who was behind him, not even when he felt five razor sharp tips rammed into his back.

The rest of the team spun around, and one of the Mossad agents fired at the figure. It hit Jenkins in the heart instead. The figure threw the body towards the Israeli, knocking him down.

The other Mossad agent attempted a Krav Maga kick; the figure caught his leg and snapped the kneecap. Before the agent could cry out in pain, the figure grabbed his head and viciously turned it; the neck broke with a sickening snap. The figure snatched the dead Israeli's gun, wheeled around and promptly delivered two direct shots to the CSIS and other Mossad agents' heads, putting them down permanently.

Korella fired off a shot in the general direction of the figure; it struck him in the forehead, and the coated individual's head snapped to the side. But the man didn't go down…

Turning towards Korella, the man stepped forward into the light. Korella gazed upon the bearded face of the young man, who's face was slowly being covered by a sadistic smile. The bullet wound in the left side of his forehead was already starting to close…

"You know, Jack," he said slowly as he took a step forward into the light, "there's something I always wanted to tell you."

He took a quick step the right; Korella quickly followed his movement and squeezed off another round. In a lightning flash, the individual dodged the bullet and stepped to Korella's left. He slashed the CIA agent's wrist, and Korella let out a cry of pain, dropping his weapon. The coated figure rammed his fingers into his throat; Korella's eyes went wide as he felt five razor sharp points penetrate his flesh and sever his windpipe.

The figure looked at him. "You're pathetically slow on your left side." He gave another smile. "Huh." He stared down as the CIA operatives's throat. "No dry comment coming from our beloved team leader's throat."

Korella began choking on his own blood. "What's the matter, Jackie-boy?" the figure asked. "Cat got you by the throat?"

Korella's eyes bulged; the sharp ends blocking off his flow of oxygen. With a stone cold look on his face, the figure ripped his fingers away from his throat. Korella collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor.

The figure breathed in a deep breath. It was nearly done- nearly all the subjects were eliminated. All that remained now was one. The most important one of all. The special case. The one he had the biggest plans for.

Ziva David…