Gibbs: Why, Ducky? Why Kate? Why not me?
Ducky: Well, maybe he meant to hit you.
Gibbs: No. No, him sniping at me means he's after my people. Women first.
Ducky: Then he's torturing you. One has to wonder: what made him such a sadist?
Summary: Ari and quest for revenge that didn't turn out as he thought it would.
Spoilers: Twilight and Kill Ari.
Rating: Teen
Note: Written for the challenge: If you prick us, do we not bleed?
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them for a spin.
Beta: malach ha-mavet, thank you!
A Vendetta gone wrong.
"life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot."
The irony is not lost on me. Here I am waiting to kill a man who I sort of admired and respected when I first read the profile Ziva had put together on him.
I shake my head and shift slightly where I sit on the hard wooden bench, I have to believe that this is the right course; my father will suffer and in the end pay the ultimate price and I will taste the sweetness of revenge.
Still for the past few days, ever since I pulled the trigger up on that rooftop and ended Caitlin's life, a danger has lurked. I have been given too much time to think, and somewhere along the way I have begun to question my actions and choices. My determination to follow this charade through has started to waver causing Gibbs death to happen sooner and by my hand rather than his own.
Caitlin was the first person I killed that didn't deserve it in at least in some way, her conscience was clean and I broke the promise I made a long time ago to never kill an innocent person in cold blood. Her death was solely for the purpose of making Gibbs suffer; she hadn't done anything that justified her death. She was just a pawn in my game with Gibbs, albeit its first deadly casualty.
There were going to be more, one by one those around him would have died while he powerlessly tried to protect them. I would slowly have driven him over the edge, I wonder how many it would have taken before he caved in and decided he couldn't live with the pain and the guilt.
Gibbs was supposed to be my training exercise in how to obliterate a man completely. He was supposed to hone me on the finer points before I engaged in destroying my son of a bitch of father.
Turns out I still have some scruples left because I can't make myself do it. I thought I could. He still has to die though, as he is my ticket into Al-Qaida's inner circle, but he will do so with mercy and he will not have to pull the trigger himself in anguish.
I almost wish I could hate him; Gibbs reminds me enough of father for me to do so by association and he has after all put a bullet in me, but strangely I don't hate him or even dislike him.
It was just series of unfortunate events that singled him out, the circumstances and the nature of my mission that led to our first meeting when I was supposed to retrieve the smallpox virus made sure I turned into one of his adversaries as I took a shot at him, held his people hostage and put a bullet into one of them.
The bullet in his own shoulder he could perhaps had, if not forgiven at least ignored, but I hurt his people and if his profile taught me anything about him it was the fierce need to protect those he considers friends and family and because of that I could never have been anything other than a villain in his eyes.
It was a shame really. He would have made a great ally and in those days I still looked for them. I may have walked a shadowy path but I hadn't yet become one of the shadows. Then I still believed justice and honour existed.
I don't anymore, not since I learned the truth of my mother's death. It was a mere coincidence that I found out. I was reading through a bunch of old orders another Hamas operative had managed to snatch, when a date and a location almost jumped out from the papers: it was orders for a retaliatory strike on a day I was away and visited father, signed by his own hand. I don't believe in coincidences and as I stared down at his signature I realized what the sole purpose of my existence was.
From the moment I was born I had been bred to become a mole in Hamas. Every step on my path has carefully been manipulated to create what he thinks is his perfect little spy. What a surprise he will get because hate won't be a problem when it comes to father.
Once I discovered how deep his schemes ran I couldn't help but speculate if he somehow had been involved in Tali's death also, father truly is a svengali and my sister's death effectively drove both Ziva and me into his clutches.
The quiet click of the front door alerts me, Gibbs has returned. I push away my thoughts, and my doubts; now it is time for action not dwelling. I can't afford to be distracted; Gibbs knows what he is doing and my death is his highest wish at the moment. For a fleeting second I consider granting his wish to have him end my misery but that thought is also pushed away. I promised Ziva she wouldn't have to lose me too.
I stay motionless in my corner, hidden in the dark created by the dim light, and watch him as he enters the basement. I smirk slightly when I see that he didn't even leave the flowers: he brought them back with him, and then even wider when he opens his drawer and discovers the absence of his sniper rifle.
I am pleased with how collected and calm I sound as I make my presence known to him. For some odd reason I feel the need to try and explain my actions to him; I can't stop myself from pouring out my reasons for becoming what I am. I rise to my feet to finish my job and I can't resist mocking him a bit.
Purposely I raise the rifle and take aim. He will die as Caitlin did with a single bullet in his forehead. Once again I find a reason to smirk as he says it's gonna be sweet watching me die. How exactly does he think he will manage that?
And I answer: "Sorry to spoil your…"
A sharp burst of pain and a red curtain of agony tear trough me. The last thing I glimpse as I crumple down and hit the concrete floor is, to my surprise, Ziva holding a gun pointed in my direction. I never thought either of them would trust the other quite so quickly. Guess I was wrong.
I don't relive my life in flashes. All I see is a vision of my sisters from the last time we were together, all three of us, because less than a month after our gathering a Hamas bomb took Tali away, turned Ziva into an assassin bent on revenge, and I began my walk into the shadows where I eventually got lost. But in that moment we were happy.
I relive what has become my most cherished memory, a perfect snapshot of the two of them running toward me on a beach a few miles outside Tel Aviv on a sunny and slightly breezy spring day.
Cascades of sand erupt around their bare feet and in the background the sun glitters against the blue waves of the Mediterranean. They are laughing, their eyes sparkle with mischief and their hair is flying in the wind.
Life is wonderful for the three of us; we have hours of teasing, laughter and discussions ahead of us accompanied by chilled chardonnay and delicious food.
As my brain begins shut down the vision starts to fade. My last conscious thoughts are centred around Ziva my sweet little sister and I regret that she had to see me like this, that I put her in this situation and yet I can't completely regret it. A part of me hopes she has heard every little dirty secret I spilled to Gibbs. She will have him as her ally now and I'm remarkably proud that she is stronger than me; she didn't take easy way out, but I am sorry that she was the one that had to pull the trigger. Not for myself, but for her and the emotional burden I now have put upon her shoulders.
If I had any air left in my lungs I would whisper to Gibbs to keep her safe, but it doesn't really matter because I already know he will. He will protect her from our father probably better than I ever could and for that I'm grateful.
Then all fades away to black, I succumb to the darkness of death and I am no more.