A/N I'm rewriting this story because my English has improved a lot and I hate the story, but not the plot. Death ones will follow soon. I hope that you'll enjoy this more than the previous version. I'm going to try and update every week, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to make that deadline. It's probably going to be longer than that one too. I'm guessing ten or eleven chapters. Enjoy!

A woman was sitting on a chair in a small dark room. The room was damp and hot. The floor was filthy, and rats - dead and alive - were lying on it. The walls were old and cracks covered them.

The four walls were the woman's prison. She'd lost track of time, but time didn't matter anymore. The sun shining through the small window told her the difference between day and night, there was nothing else that separated them, only the light and dark.

The man that frequently opened the door came during both time periods, nothing mattered. Her life was over. There would be no rescue, there would be no escape. She would break eventually and they would kill her. Noone knew where she was and even that was not important.

Heavily armed men guarded numerous steel doors, and even if someone could get past them, there were still weapons against tanks and all air forces that could be send. There was no plan, noone even knew that there should be a plan, because few even knew of the existence of the camp.

She couldn't move. She was tied to the chair and her body didn't want to move. Her whole body hurt. Her face was covered with cuts and bruises, and her legs and hand were bruised and scarred. The woman's blood covered the floor and dripped down the chair legs.

Ziva David had been sitting on that chair for almost three days. The assassin had been captured when she'd decided that she could complete the mission on her own. She wanted to finish what Michael had started. Ziva had taken her place in the Kidon unit and she would end this no matter what. She was still an assassin, and as soon as she untied these ropes, she would kill the bastard, the consequences didn't matter.

She had told Tony once that everyone breaks when tortured, and she was going to soon. She was losing her strength, her will to fight. She hadn't been fed yet, and that was taking its toll.

She got hit again and again. Saleem was not a subtle torturer, he just kept hitting until he was told something. He was losing his patience with her and that was dangerous. He needed to keep his cool and kill her before he lost control and became even more dangerous.

He had asked her a lot of questions, but there was only one that kept coming back. Every couple of minutes she heard the question:

"Tell me everything you know, about NCIS." He shouted it, he whispered it to her, and she answered it.

The question never changed because she never gave the right answer, the answer he wanted so badly.

All she gave away were things like:

"The desks are too small."

"The computers are old."

"The orange color drives me crazy."

And her favorite;

"We never have enough paperclips, especially when I want to kill someone."

As she answered she heard someone talk in a language she didn't know. They were distant, like the voices were miles away. Her head was pounding, and she couldn' help but shut everything out.

He'd left her alone for a few hours today, because he had more important things to do. When Ziva's headache lessened she realised she just hadn't been paying attention.

The voices were merely on the other side of the door. She heared the terrorists talking in English.

The men that had captured and tortured her were talking about the fact she wasn't going to cooperate. They were tired of her answers. They doubted that she even knew what they wanted to know. They were no professionals apparently. If they were, they would have known that she was evading the questions by answering them truthfully, but not the truth they wanted.

She was getting more confident by the minute that she was going to be killed without another punch thrown her way. The pain would stop and she would be able to close her eyes and give in to the darkness.

She wanted it all to end.

She was hungry, thirsty, tired and couldn't bare the pain for much longer. She was going to talk soon, but they wouldn't give her the chance if she was lucky.

Everyone she loved betrayed her or she betrayed them. The endless betrayals had sent her on this path. Her father, her boss, her partner, her boyfriend and her friends no longer cared for her. They'd all worked against her. They had pushed her around. She was a puppet in the hands of others, just like she'd been raised to be.

She had to obey her orders and she shouldn't question them. It was not what she was made for. She had to protect her country and its people, nothing more. That was her duty.

She was suddenly disturbed from her peaceful slumber. The slumber where she rested without closing her eyes. The room would disappear for a while and she could walk on the grass again. That had disappeared. Her mind recognized a gunshot immediately.

She pities the fool that was shot. She'd heard them before. It was simply another prisoner that was executed. The single shot went off and everything would soon turn back to normal.

That was until she heard another, which was followed by even more of them. The camp was under attack. She waited for the door to open. Saleem wouldn't let her escape, he would execute her.

She heard the door open and saw two guards enter. She closed her eyes and waited for the bullet to be fired, but it didn't come.

She opened her eyes and was amazed to see both of them lying on the ground. She wanted to look up to thank her savior, but at that moment she fainted from all the blood loss.

A/N I hope you enjoyed the revised chapter.