Ziva stared blankly through the two way mirror, sizing up the young Israeli woman seated opposite Gibbs in Interrogation Two. There was a familiarity in the woman's eyes. It was a familiarity that bared an uncanny resemblance from a lifetime ago clouded not only by the passage of time but by uncertainty justified through life events. Overriding her clarity and better state of mind, an unconsciousness deep within Ziva's mind remained adamant that it recognized the Israeli suspect from some point in its past. Ziva fought back, waging a war in her own mind as with her finger tips she maintained a dangerously unsteady grip on common sense and logic.
"It can't be," Ziva reminded herself repeatedly. "It is impossible." Ziva slowed her speech, emphasizing every word uttered to convince herself that if she spoke aloud, her words should automatically be taken as fact. A side glance from the tech operating Interrogation Two's audio and video surveillance was inquisitive in nature but as much as Ziva had become a staple at NCIS Headquarters in the Washington navy yard over the past seven years her Mossad past remained with her and prevented others from probing too far deep into the eccentricities of Ziva David. "It's not her," she told herself for what was literally the twentieth time since entering the observation area a mere five minutes ago.
The her Ziva spoke off was Talia David, known to everyone as Tali, and better known throughout the Israeli intelligence community as the most junior of the late Director Eli David's daughters, both of whom had excelled at a young age in the Mossad and made a name for themselves by the age of sixteen. The eldest daughter, four years Tali's senior, was the same woman who stood in NCIS' interrogation section thinking back to the last time she had seen Tali alive. Closing her eyes Ziva reflected back to her sisters final hours, recalling the events as if they had happened mere days ago instead of the almost fifteen years that had passed.
In her mind Ziva pictured Egypt in 1999, specifically the hotel and the surrounding neighbourhood where she, Tali and their control officer carried out their assignment to capture, or at least kill, a high ranking leader in Hamas known to be hiding out in the vicinity. Ziva did not want to leave Tali to fend for herself by they were a team, a team with priorities and at twenty one years old Ziva was not yet the control officer and had orders to follow. Under the orders of Amit Mostel Ziva sped through the barely open automatic doors while they barely had time to register her approach. Their target, as given to them by a recent wire from Tel Aviv was making a break for it and there was no time to lose. Through opposite doors of the lobby, each leading to a street on either side of the hotel, Ziva and Amit pursued the Hamas colonel who twice eluded the Mossad, in Zurich and Beirut.
On one of the green leather couches adorned with gold trim Tali sat vigilant. The splitting image of her sister, Tali's dark black hair hung down her back and flowed over her shoulders as her brown eyes danced across the hotel lobby, observing three separate elevator access points in addition to the stairway to the right of the administration desk, leading down from the buildings upper floors. Other than taking a dive off one of the balconies above that jutted out over the streets outside, Tali knew that the Hamas colonel's aide who was her responsibility to watch out for could not leave the hotel without walking into her field of view. She dared not waiver in her sentry duties as she saw this is the time to prove herself. At sixteen Tali was three months into her required service to the Israeli armed forces and with the influence of her high ranking father she had attained a position with the Mossad. While this was not a problem for her sister or Officer Mostel who were well aware of her abilities, Tali knew that she still had to prove her worth to the rest of the Israeli intelligence community who saw her appointment to Mossad in the same light as a spoiled daughter whose rich daddy had just given a brand new car
An opportunity for Tali to display what she was capable of was not long coming as about five minutes after Ziva and Officer Mostel left the hotel a hail of bullets pelted the glass doors to one side of the lobby. Flecks of the door frames and their glass panes exploded across the lavish marble flooring, raining down onto presumed innocent businessmen and hotel staff as they frantically sought some form of cover. With the benefit of her training Tali reacted to the assault immediate. Sliding off the couch and onto her knees Tali positioned her left shoulder just below the edge of the ornate wooden table in front of her, probably an antique, and tackled it over onto its side. Reaching to the small of her back the young Mossad operator drew her weapon, a jericho 941, from its holster as what monetary value possessed by the table was lost with each stray bullet that dug into its varnished surface. She poked her head up over the edge for only a split second, but a split second that was more than enough time to assess her surroundings.
Two shooters, Tali assessed the situation. Probably AK-47's. No more than ten meters away. Across the street?
Counting the steps taken by two sets of distinct footsteps as they crept closer, Tali assessed the decreasing distance of the shooters from her as their weapons continued to spray bullets into the lobby. There were screams from bystanders that were hard to ignore but Tali had a mission to carry out that in no way involved getting herself shot in the process of rescuing civilians who just happened to be in the worst place at the worst possible time. Tali kept her ears in check, waiting for the advancing footsteps to hit the marble flooring that reached as far as the doors, at which point she would make her presence known in the form of her hawk eye marksmanship. As her ears registered the entrance of who she assumed to be the gunmen Tali threw her body down in a horizontal position so that only her head and shoulders were visible to one end of the table instead of propping her head up over the top of what she would consider to be an obvious barricade. With her gun firmly in her grasp Tali held the muzzle level with one of the gentleman's chests. Both were well dressed in suits and ties, clean cut and well groomed to appear perfectly presentable if it were not for the Russian made machine guns clutched in their hands, held steady against their torsos. Tali timed two trigger compressions, blowing the man closest to her backwards into the pool of glass he and his cohort had created, nearly knocking his partner over as he fell.
Tali retreated behind the table and prayed it was thick enough to hold as the second gunman recovered and directed the entirety of his rage against her position, revenge in his eyes. As the bullets peeled away at the already pot marked surface of the table Tali reassessed her predicament. She was alone with no reason to believe that her partners were anywhere close and she had the disadvantage. She had no way of knowing exactly where the shooter was positioned and there was no way to risk peeking out over either edge of the table lest she get a bullet or two nailed into her forehead. The shooter, on the other hand, knew exactly where Tali was down to a square meter in the lobby and she was not mobile, while he had his pick of any position as he continued his attempt to see her dead. With no avenue of escape she reached for the knife concealed at her waist, sturdy enough for combat yet balanced for throwing. Hoping that it would distract the gunman just enough for her to pop off at least one bullet Tali prepared to throw it out over the table when a series of multiple handgun fire rang out from somewhere near the destroyed doorway. The hammering of the machine gun fire died abruptly, followed by a frantic cry of the Mossad officer's name.
"TALI!" the voice of the eldest David sister sailed through the lobby.
Tali picked her head up from behind the table, her weapon at the ready, but found both Ziva and Amit Mostel standing in the doorway, their glock pistols leveled at the downed gunman, one of whom had been on the receiving end of both their weapons. Amidst the chaos and the damaged lobby littered with four dead bodies Tali still found the sight of her partners to be comforting.
Even as Ziva and Tali embraced one another, their control officer remained alert. "The police will be here soon," he said to them, almost scolding them for taking a few precious seconds to surrender to their emotions. Scanning any access point into the lobby he sternly warned them,"We have to leave now."
"The Colonel?" Tali asked, returning her sidearm to its holster as her team prepared to make themselves scarce, leaving the bullet ravaged settling to be dealt with by local Egyptian authorities.
"Gone." A one word answer, but Ziva's delivery carried with it all the feelings of failure and disappointment she and Amit were plagued with.
"As we should be," Amit again scolded the young women. He grabbed ahold of both their shirt sleeves and gave them both a swift tug. "Now!" He practically threw both sisters out of the door. He quickly regretted his decision as a third gentleman, dressed as well as the first two, rounded the corner from the now abandoned street outside of the hotel and charged the the Mossad agents. As the second wave of the attack, showing up alone and without a visible firearm, the three Mossad officers knew what they were now faced with even without seeing the wires protruding from beneath the gentleman's coat.
"Bomb!" Ziva exclaimed, hauling Tali back by the collar of her little sister's jacket as Amit led them towards the opposite side of the lobby with the intent of escaping through the still intact doorway. Whether it was a loss of strength in her grip or the force with which Tali pulled away Ziva did not have to register the cause of her lack of grip, only that her fingers no longer had a hold of the fabric of Tali's jacket. She cried out in defiance as Tali sprinted towards their third aggressor, ignoring Amit's orders to keep following him as, with a final kick into the flooring Tali propelled herself towards the suicide bomber.
As their bodies collided Tali wrapped her arms tightly around the man's neck, holding on as he crashed backwards into the floor. The beeping originating from beneath the man's jacket increased in volume and sounded at shorter intervals while Tali closed her eyes and braced herself for whatever explosion would result.
"Ziva!" Officer Mostel gripped his partner's arm and tugged her towards the exit, taking advantage of the time given to them by Tali, but struggled against her efforts to stay behind in the futile hope that they could somehow save Tali. His efforts were in vain as the suicide vest detonated, filling the lobby with the contents of its C4 and nail shrapnel included to impose maximum damage. The table behind which Tali had previously taken cover was blown apart as was the clerks desk. The concussive force blew apart what glass had remained in the destroyed doorway while Ziva and Amit, caught at the edge of the blast radius, were thrown forward into the already shattering glass of the remaining doorway. The Mossad officers picked themselves up against all odds, pain stricken by the explosion.
"Let me go!" Ziva shouted at Amit, trying to pull away and run towards the center of the lobby set afire by the blast. She again shouted out for her sister as if expected some kind of reply in the wake of what had transpired. Again, Amit prodded her to follow him.
"She could not have survived, Ziva," Amit said as compassionately as possible when they faced possible discovery as the Egyptian police neared the scene. "We need to go now."
Ziva reluctantly relented, pulling away from Amit's attempts to get ahold of her and physically haul her out of the lobby, leaving under her own power. They had no reason to believe that her sister had survived when their last glimpse of her before the explosion showed Tali to be directly on top of the Hamas suicide bomber, covering the bomb like sandwich meat in between two slices of bread. She could not have survived.
She was sixteen and the best of us.