Disclaimer: I don't own any of them
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them.
An: Hiya! Please review, I don't care how long it is, but please put a little hope of me getting it right in. Thanks. Ps: Well done to the Olympians who competed in the games!! A very well done to Mr. Phelps, EIGHT gold's!!
Ziva was from Israel, an ambassador between NCIS and her beloved Mossad. But where did her loyalties lie? The call from her father had put her off the radar for a few days. But now even Abby and Gibbs were worried, no one had heard from her. Then it turned up, a note. Tony found it by accident, he'd been looking for a stapler, but instead he'd found a note under a pencil pot on her desk. It wasn't good.
Three days after the note turned up Gibbs received a phone call; some one matching her description had been taken to a hospital in Brazil. Nothing life threatening, but still enough to land her there until some one rescued her.
She smiled when they walked in; they'd left McGee and Tony behind to watch over the desks and cases. Abby had demanded the sudden leave, not caring it was NCIS policy to have two weeks notice. Gibbs had simply left, and then phoned from the airport in Brazil.
The room was smallish, a bed and one chair had been squeezed in somehow. Abby had brought some of Ziva's clothes for her.
Her face had been blackened, her right arm broken and the fingers on her left hand mostly broken, nothing to worry about, she'd had worse.
"Hey." It sounded as if the word had come from an old man rather than this rough, tough agent extraordinaire.
"Why?" The question needed to be answered; she'd run off to find a man wanted by Mossad, without telling anyone or any back up.
"Because it was my job, I can't just ignore that. And it was high security, need-to-know basis." It was only a little way from the whole truth anyone could see that. And Gibbs wasn't letting it lie.
"Who?" She didn't want to answer, but it wasn't optional.
"Need-to-know."
"Wrong answer."
"Ask Deputy-Director David."
"No, I think I'm happy to ask you."
"Fine, but I won't answer, even if you stare at me like that." Talking had caused her lip to bleed, the blood running down her chin. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
"Ziva, please just tell him so we can go home." Abby was actually scared, not by what had happened to Ziva, but what Gibbs would do to her.
"No, I'm quite happy here. Anyway everyday I stop here the more likely my father's to inquire after me."
This inspired Abby into an insight to Ziva's life.
"That's why you left without saying anything, you didn't want anything useful saying to him, did you?" She'd caught on to what she'd up to. "He doesn't know the whole story either does he? He only approved the list of Officers, didn't he?" The only answer was a slight nod from Ziva.
"So what you're saying is that your father doesn't know what you were doing here?" Gibbs was almost disbelieving.
"Not completely, no, all he knows is I was doing, I suppose you would call it an assassination." She sighed and pressed a tissue to her lip for a moment then continued. "Except it wasn't just one, it was a long standing feud between my cousin and a gangster down here. I have to make it look like a gang death, so shooting him would have been too easy, hence the beating."
They finally convinced her to go back to D.C. with them, but not before the nurses had tried to kick Gibbs and Abby out for disturbing the peace of the hospital.
The plane journey was not enjoyable for Abby, who'd been forced to sit between Gibbs and Ziva. They kept giving each other death stares. When they touched down Abby was about ready to bash their heads together.
It was nearly dawn when they got to NCIS, so they all decided to try to get some sleep there instead of braving the roads, not that Ziva could drive, even if she wanted to.
When the rest of the team came in and saw Ziva's face there was shocked in-draws of breath.
"Whoa Ziva, who did that?" Abby answered for her.
"A guy she was after beat her up, and she took it like a soldier should, so when you get punched, before you moan, you think of what Ziva's put up with, purposefully." That told him.
Her report to her cousin of what happened was slightly edited; she told him that she asked a nurse to phone a friend of hers, to come and fetch her back to D.C., and that she had told them that she had been mugged, rather than the truth.
The truth wasn't ever spoken of, but if she ever went off again she told only two people outside of the Directors office where she was going, but never why.
An: hope you like if not you might like another story less like this one.