Summery: AU story. Ari, Ziva, and some OCs are members of a highly regarded Kidon assassination team called the Malachim Hevshka (roughly Dark Angels in English). When a Mossad trainee is killed in a suicide bombing at a Navy banquet NCIS and the Malachim Hevshka must work together to eradicate an Al-Qieda terrorist cell.
Pairings: Kate/Ari, Ziva/Gibbs, McGee/OC, Tony/OC, and Abby/OC but it is mainly centered on the action.
Also thanks go to my beta missanee who is awesome.
Chapter 1
Amit stifled the urge to scream and tear off the tie that felt far too much like a noose waiting to hang him. He had been excited when he had been assigned observation at a United States Navy Awards banquet. Observance; an assignment to train potential Mossad officers to see all the nuances of human behavior, to train them to pick out a person's weak points; was something Amit was exceptionally talented at. He was in the U.S. tagging along with his mentor team, and they had gotten him an invitation here. It was something to occupy him while the final hit took place. It was too dangerous for an eighteen year old without any kills to his name, so they said. So they had sent him here saying that Marines were particularly hard to read and he should practice on them.
But instead of talking to honorable warriors he had been stuck in seemingly endless conversations with pompous politicians. As soon as he accidentally let it slip that his father was a high ranking diplomat in Israel they had begun to hover, all hoping to snatch up a better trading deal. He had told them again and again he had no influence on his father's government business but they did not listen, intent on their share of diamonds and spices. They were reminding him disturbingly of the vultures had seen in the Negev circling a dying antelope; occasionally diving into inspect the poor creature for tenderness.
Sweaty, balding vultures; sausage-like fingers twitching in anticipation of piles of money. His lips twitched in a sardonic grin at a sudden mental image of an Egyptian Vulture stuffed in an Italian suit. He could not stand politics, diplomat father or not. After a while he had taken to standing near the doorway in case a swift exit became necessary. Losing his temper here would cause more trouble than he could afford.
Amit's grin widened into a genuine smile as a leggy brunette cut in front of the old man waddling towards him. He had been watching her out of the corner of his eye for some time. She had the distinct stance of a trained fighter, but she lacked the hardened face of a soldier. She seemed somehow innocent to his trained eyes. A seeming contradiction that fascinated him. A noncombatant surely. A paper pusher? No, she did not have the softness of a desk jockey. Naval Criminal Investigative Service, perhaps.
She stuck out a hand and grinned impishly, "Caitlin Todd, NCIS."
Ah, he'd been right on target, he would have to mention that in his report. He clasped her hand firmly, "Amit Sadat, Mossad trainee."
"Nice to meet you. I noticed you seemed annoyed by the vultures so I thought I should butt in."
He bowed sweepingly. "You are forever my savior, Lady Caitlin."
She chuckled, "Well aren't you a charmer. So what is a potential Mossad agent doing at a US Navy gathering?"
"Resisting the urge to strangle the next diplomat that comes near me. I promised myself I would handle twenty of them. He would have been number twenty-one."
"Well, then it seems I am his savior as well." Her slightly raised left eyebrow told him she had noticed his roundabout answer, but it seemed she had decided not to care. She was either extremely self-confident or extremely trusting. Another thing he should note in his report. His mentors would wish to know about this fascinating woman.
Letting that thought file away, Amit cast a glance at the man who was now huffing in an amusing attempt at dignified fury. "Well, I would not expect thanks from him if I were you."
Movement registered in his peripheral vision and he turned his attention unobtrusively to the doorway. Caitlin's reply faded into the background and his muscles tensed up at the sight of the man who had just entered the room.
The look of determination on his face. The bulky coat. A few wires sticking out. The trigger clenched in his hand.
Sharp eyed Marines and Naval officers saw him too, but Amit moved faster. Instincts from a life training to protect those more innocent than him kicked in and time seemed to slow.
Heart pounding, adrenaline pumping; he pushed through the crowd, sprinting towards the suicide bomber.
Dun, dun. Dun, dun.
'Congratulations, sir, a healthy baby boy.'
"Ashamnu. Bagadnu. Gazalnu. Dibarnu dofi. He'evinu."
He heard Special Agent Todd scream out.
Dun, dun. Dun, dun.
'Congratulations, my son. You are now a Bar Mitzvah.'
"V'hirshanu. Zadnu. Chamasnu. Tafalnu shequer. Ya'atznu va."
He barreled past shouting Marines.
Dun, dun. Dun, dun.
'I'm sorry, sir. Your wife didn't make it. Your son is alive but he's badly injured. He tried to save her, sir.'
"Kizavnu. Latznu. Mavadnu. Ni'atznu. Saranu."
He hit the terrorist full force sending them both flying through the doorway.
Dun, dun. Dun, dun.
'Father, I've been accepted into the Kidon Academy.'
"'Avinu. Pasha 'nu. Tzararnu. Qishinu 'oref. Rasha 'nu."
A shattered looking man closed solid oak doors behind them.
Dun, dun. Dun, dun.
'Father, the Malachim Hevshka said they will be my mentors. They said I can join them as soon as I graduate.'
"Shichatnu. Ti'awnu. Ta'inu. Ti'ta'nu. Sarnu."
A deafening boom. A flash of light. Then all was dark.
Are you proud of me now?
Note: The Hebrew is the vidui or confession. It is recited by Jews before death.
So what did you think? Please review. I write faster when my muses have been fed. Thanks for reading.