A telephone rang shrilly in the distance. Actually, the distance was just the nightstand next to the bed, but It seemed like miles away as it forcefully called Ziva David from her sleep. It took her a moment, but finally she realized that the shrill sound she heard was intended to gain her attention, and so grumbling a variety of swear words in various languages, Ziva David propped herself up on her elbow and reached over to grab her phone. Because she couldn't see, she knocked over various things from her stand, such as her badge and alarm clock. Finally, she seized the offending object and hit the receive button.
"David," she grumbled into the phone, unable to keep the sleep from her voice.
"Bat," said the voice, clearly much more awake than she.
"Abba," breathed Ziva, more alert now. She rarely received phone calls from her father and they were rarely in the middle of the night, for he knew the time difference. Furthermore, she hadn't received a phone call from him in a very long time. At least two years she thought, counting rapidly. Not since Somalia.
"I need you to listen to me. I have only one hour to live and you must know what I am about to tell you.."
"Papa, are you okay? Do you know what time it is?" asked Ziva, completely alarmed by her father's demeanor. She hated her father for abandoning her, for leaving her to die. But yet, he'd never sounded so urgent before. He was always calm and controlled. It unnerved her.
"Officer David, at attention!" barked her father. Instantly, Ziva's back stiffened.
"Yes, Director David," she responded automatically. Old habits die hard I suppose, she thought to herself. It was odd for her though; she hadn't been an officer for two years.
"I know what time it is in Washington. I am not going crazy. Ziva, I owe you two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the journey you are about to undertake. Me, talking with you now, is putting you and everyone you know in terrible danger. I am sorry for this, but they must be stopped and you are the only one to do it. Second, I am sorry for lying to you these past ten years. Your sister, Tali...her death was not an accident." Ziva's heart froze and her eyes widened with the enormity of what her father was saying. It hurt Ziva that he obviously felt no shame in leaving her in the desert. But that emotion was totally overridden by the mention of her sister's name.
"What?" she whispered harshly into the phone.
"Ay Ziva. If you only knew how hard this was for me. Ten years ago, there was an organization. I do not say terrorist group, because they were much more. They were called the Dragon's Head. They were invisible and everywhere all at once. At the time, I was simply a deputy director and my main charges were intelligence collection and the management of the Kidon Unit. I had gained information that an attack would occur in Madrid, Spain and that the targets were to be Israeli diplomats who were simply making a standard tour of Europe. I moved Kidon into place to survey the area and report on any suspicious activity and to protect the delegates. On the morning two days before the suspected attack, I received a visit from the Dragon's Head. They ordered me to remove the Kidon or I would lose the most recent addition to my heritage. I refused. We do not negotiate with terrorists. Later that day, a suicide bomber attacked a cafe in Tel Aviv. Tali died in that explosion. I received a letter. It said remove the Kidon. The next day the Kidon were out and the day after a five star hotel was bombed. Israel lost five diplomats and various aides. Other notables from other countries were there and killed as well."
"Why did you keep this from me? You know how I loved her. How I still love her." replied Ziva her voice cracking.
"The less who knew, the better. I did not tell you so that I could keep you safe. You were starting your term with the IDF. I saw no need to distract you with the lust for revenge." Ziva bit her lip, keeping silent. After Tali's death, she threw herself into rigorous training. Her sister's death was the first event that began to create the mask that Ziva wore to hide her emotions.
"Why are you telling me now?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion, strictly business.
"Because the Dragon's Head is back. I have spent the last ten years subtly gaining information on them. All I have I have sent to you and you shall receive it tomorrow. Ziva, their reach is far and they seek to control the world through force. I have stumbled across some information; they may be planning to hold the world hostage with nuclear weapons. All that buys us time is that they do not have the nuclear power to do so yet. Today I received another visit concerning that information. The deal was if I keep silent, I keep my life. If not, I die as well as the person I've told. I cannot keep silent. To do so would mean the death of millions. So I pass the chalice onto you. Ziva, they must be stopped."
"Papa, I cannot do this! This is crazy. If you are right and there is some secret organization, how in the world do you expect me to deal with them? I am just one person and not the person you need to be talking to. I do not have the connections, the resources."
"Which is why you are perfect for the job; the fewer people who know you means the more people you can sneak by. Ziva, people die where the Dragon's Head goes and you have the ability to stop them. I am afraid I must go now. The hour of my destruction is upon me." Ziva could hear the sound of shouting and gunfire in the distance.
"Papa?" she called her voice frantic.
"Everything will be more clearly explained in the information I send you. Be careful and do not let your guard down. Only the best can pull this off and I believe with all my heart that that is you. Shalom, Ziva." Ziva stared at her phone in disbelief, unsure if the conversation she just had was real, unsure if the sounds she heard were real. For the rest of the morning she lay in bed, her eyes wide, an unexplainable fear gripping her heart. She did not rise until she had to go to work.
