A Different Kind of Silence
What happens when Malachi learns of Eli death? A man that he, truly thought of as a father.
The light streamed into the kitchen as the sun rose over the seemingly endless Israeli landscape. The sunlight cascaded across the stone tile floor and lit up the small home that stood on the outskirts of Tel Aviv. He sat at the kitchenette with a newspaper and sipped his green tea. He was barefoot and wore gray Ralph Lauren pajama pants and a black vneck tee shirt. He was physically stunning, and esthetically attractive with his olive skin, short black hair and the scar on his brow. The shirt he was wearing fell loosely over his stomach but the sleeves hugged the muscles on his arms. He was tall, with broad shoulders and the body of a Greek god. He was intimidating to some, but as he sat in the small kitchen sipping his tea, he was so gentle and refined.
It was the beginning of his vacation, a long awaited and well deserved vacation at that. As some people in his line of work would leave Israel the first chance he got, he loathed the action of leaving his country. There was no other place that he felt the safest, and the most at home. His mentor used to make fun of this mindset, even though he felt the same way. To feel at home in a country where everyone around you says that you have no home, and to feel safe in a country that is attacked daily was an irony that only few understood.
He read the paper in silence. A warm breeze came through the open window above the sink. He could hear birds out. The sky was light blue and the day smelled new, somehow the day smelled new. There was something about today, he could feel it in his gut. Something wasn't exactly right about today. Granted, nothing had changed in his morning routine, no irregularities, nothing. However something kept tugging at him.
As he finished the paper he was enjoying he folded it up exactly how it was originally and laid it on the table. He picked up his mug and took a sip of tea. He looked out the window to the site before him. Trees, hills, the blue sky on the desert landscape. He could hear the faint voices of the two elderly men down the road who argued over whatever news grabbed their attention that morning. It wasn't silent, but to him it was his favorite kind of silence. He felt peaceful at home.
The shrill cry of his telephone broke his peace. He ignored it, he was on vacation and things at work could wait. That would be who it was calling him at the break of dawn, work. He knew it because it was always so. The phone stopped ringing and he tilted his head back, enjoying the letting in of his peace again.
Just as he was getting back to his relaxed state of mind his phone cried out for him again. Getting up from his seat at the table, his mug in hand, he walked into the adjoining living room. He picked up his phone and looked at the caller ID.
"Ziva"
His heart stopped beating. Why was she calling? Was something wrong? What had happened? Was she okay? Was it her that was calling? What if it was Tony? Or Gibbs? Did something happen to his Ziva?
All of his thoughts rushed him and he forgot about the ringing phone in his hand, he took a deep breath, a sip of his tea and pressed answer.
"Officer Ben-Gidon" there was silence on the other end. Silence like this, was something that caused goosebumps to form on the back of his neck. He could feel his heart beating faster, "Ziva? Ziva answer me!"
He heard her take a breath, a deep breath, and she finally spoke, "Malachi".