Coincidence - alternative end
Darker version of my story 'Coincidence'. This time Gibbs is right: there are no coincidences. Khalid brings his prisoner from Somalia to Israel unhindered. Neither Mossad nor NCIS is there to rescue her and Ziva's future is nonexistent.
A story in two parts.
Welcome to this alternative storyline of Coincidence.
While writing Coincidence, the story had me captured and intrigued, especially the event of the actual 'coincidence'. And as always I wondered, how would things end if small events happened differently?
English is not my first language, please forgive spelling mistakes and messing with the tenses.
NCIS does not belong to me.
Warning: As in Coincidence there will be mention of violence, general mistreatment and rape (nothing graphic). Regardless this story is much darker and sadder than its original. I don't want to say more but please be aware of it.
...
You may be able to understand the storyline without knowing the original story yet I would recommend reading Coincidence first (at least the first chapter, after that the stories diverge.)
For those of you who are too lazy to read it, here's a short summary of the important events:
As in the show, Ziva's stuck in Somalia. One day an old friend of Saleem (named Khalid) arrives at his camp. After some friendly bantering Khalid reveals that he has order to bring "the Mossad spy" back to their mutual boss: Al Hari. He wants the daughter of the Mossad director as leverage to use her against Eli David and Mossad.
Reluctantly, Saleem allows them to take his favorite prisoner away.
Khalid and his men return towards Israel, intending to bring Ziva to Al Hari. After crossing the border to Israel, Mossad ambushes them for suspected weapon smuggling, not knowing anything about Ziva being with them. They find their missing officer and bring her to a hospital where she phones Gibbs. Thereupon, Gibbs, Abby, Tony and McGee come to Israel and there is a lot of interaction between them, Ziva and Eli David.
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Coincidence - alternative end
Part I
In Tel Aviv, Eli David looked at the picture of his three children. Now the last one was probably dead as well. Tali had been too gentle, Ari too bitter but Ziva… given other circumstances she might have had a chance of outliving her father.
He just got a call by an officer in Mombasa, Kenya, confirming that Ziva had not checked in after leaving her partner behind. Ben-Gidon was on his way back, no doubt terrified to meet him now his partner, his director's daughter had disappeared.
He should have stopped their mission when talking to Ben-Gidon.
He should have stopped them, but he didn't and now Ziva had paid the price.
The future he had once dreamed of, of happy grandchildren in a peaceful country, now that door had closed. Anyway, it had been a naïve dream.
They knew the risk and they failed.
He outlived all his children. He forbade himself thinking of the other option. Dead was better than captured. Yes, she might have failed to kill the target but Ziva would never allow them to capture her alive. Ziva is dead, he decided and closed the classified folder in front of him.
Tali, Ari, Ziva. Dead, all of them.
oOo
Two months later
The stranger looked at Saleem. "You won't like this but… when Al Hari learned who she is and heard about my visit, he told me to bring her back with me to his place.
Indeed, Saleem did not like this. He was silent, rejecting. Then: "She is my prisoner, Khalid."
"Saleem, be reasonable. With her, Al Hari can achieve much more for our objectives than you can do it here in the desert. You've done a great job when capturing her. He will not forget that."
Saleem only narrowed his eyes in anger.
oOo
Saleem might not like it but he depended on the support by Al Hari. To not lose it, he was forced to surrender to his will, forced to hand over his favorite prisoner.
Ziva's will was irrelevant, of course. They had claimed her like cargo, a precious one, sure, but a non-living piece of prized cargo nonetheless. One to take care of, to keep safe and alive for the sake of her value to others, not because she was recognized as a human being with inalienable rights.
In Somalia they started with two pickup trucks and for weeks they traveled through the hot land over rough roads or no roads at all. Traveling north. No one told Ziva their destination, but a suspicion had risen early. Israel. Or a neighboring country. Lebanon, maybe. Palestine.
One day somewhere in Egypt Ziva assumed, their routine of treating her had changed. Now they started to make an effort to hide her. She had to sit inside the driver's cabin instead of the open back and they often prevented her to see or to be seen. One time they even shoved her to the foot area, a hand pressed roughly over her mouth.
She suspected they were approaching Sinai, just West of Israel. That suspicion gave her hope and one night when they were close to some town and half of the men had gone there Ziva got the opportunity she waited so long for.
One of them approached her in their sickening way, pulled away the blanket and hauled her a few meters away from the others to the darkness for some privacy. No one took much notice as it was a regular nocturnal occurrence. And as much as Ziva loathed it, they there stronger than her, so most times she kept quiet and endured it like the good little soldier she was, silently hating them, silently vowing vengeance and imagining how to hurt them back.
Away from the glow of the fire he started to undo her clothes. He still carried his weapon. Her hands were tied but it did not stop her. While he leaned over her, distracted with pulling up her shirt Ziva took it slowly out of its holster, discreetly scanning her surrounding for the others. They sat around the fire, no one was close, and it was dark. She took the barrel into her hand and hit him over the head, hard. A moan and he collapsed on top of her.
She pushed him down and crawled away, afraid that standing up would be noticed by them.
The men at the fire heard the moan and laughed, thinking he enjoyed his sweet time over there in the darkness. One called out tauntingly: "It's that good already, Saïd?"
But Saïd couldn't answer, Ziva realized with sudden fright and for a moment she was frozen. Then a flashlight was directed to the darkness, revealing the unconscious man. They cried out in rage. A few meters away, Ziva jumped to her feet and ran, the gun still clenched in her tied hands, panic and adrenalin powered her sprint. They started chasing her, shouting angrily. Stones cut in to her feet, ribs burned, weak legs struggled to keep the balance and speed while she ran as fast as she could.
They were faster.
They came closer.
She would not escape. The thought crushed her. The fastest of them was less than five meters away when she stopped, whirled around and shot. He fell. Her second shot missed the next man and the third hit someone, but it was not fatal, he just cried out furiously. The next second they were on her. She fell under them. One sat on her back, his arm around her throat, another on her legs. The third one checked the man she had shot. He was not dead yet but close.
oOo
Khalid was furious. At himself and at the Mossad bitch. They had underestimated her. She had been so weak and non-resisting that they had let their guard down. Doesn't matter if she planned it or just grasped the opportunity, it should not have happened.
They laid her unconscious form next to the fire, tied securely. He watched her for the rest of the night, hate and rage kept him awake. She woke a few hours later and the desperation in her eyes calmed him slightly. Still he bent down and brought his mouth close to her ear. "You will pay for this," he promised her in a low vicious voice.
oOo
In D.C. Ziva was missed sorely. The search for a replacement was pointless. Ziva was not replaceable. But she had left them, stayed behind in Israel and now she was dead. Since May, more than two months ago. And Mossad had told them nothing. Nothing. Tony's dislike of her father grew into hate. She died on a mission for him and he did not even inform them.
She died in a shipwreck after all. Tony would have never imagined her ending this way, no one had. Sometimes, when he saw ships on the Potomac River he only saw dead Zivas, soaked and her dark hair floating around her weightlessly.
oOo
The next morning Khalid assembled his men around her. A show was just what his men needed, so he appreciated the theatricality.
Saïd held her on her knees, a visible bump decorating his temple. Contrary to that she let her head hang down, face concealed by her hair.
"You will never run from us again. That I will promise you."
Saïd shoved her to the ground until she was sitting and cut the straps around her ankles. Then he lifted her head by the dark hair.
Ali had his arm in a sling where she had shot him last night, but he did not need both hands to pull out one of her legs.
The fear in her eyes was unmistakable and by now she was shaking visibly. In vain she fought his firm grip on her leg and tried to pull it back. "No… No, please…"
Khalid stepped closer. "You will never run from us again," he repeated and stamped down hard on her shin, once, twice. The awful crack seemed to reverberate in her whole body and she screamed out and cried.
oOo
The trucks stopped at an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere and most of the men got out of the cars. Two heavily armed men awaited them, and they talked to each other, Khalid gestured in her direction once. Then the men started to carry boxes, countless boxes and some sacks out of the building and loaded them on the two pickup trucks they had traveled in and a third one waiting there.
One of the foreigners drew closer slowly, a smirk on his face as he tried to get a better view of the woman in the driver's cabin. Khalid noticed it and opened the door to drag her outside. Ziva balanced on her good leg and blinked at them resignedly. One of the men emerged out of the building, a box in his hands. Seeing them he stopped, his eyes narrowed, and he opened the wooden lit and pulled out a heavy gun. He shoved it into her stomach furiously. "She killed my friend yesterday." He explained to the stranger. Somewhere a shot went off and Ziva jerked in surprise. Khalid suddenly smiled. "Bring her here."
He tied her hands to a fencepost and whispered something to the angry young man.
Without a warning he raised his weapon and shot at her.
Ziva's heart suddenly raced wildly and for a moment she didn't know if she was hit. Looking down she could see nothing. Smiling he raised the gun again, this time slowly and menacing, directed it to her chest, then to the head. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, she both feared and hoped for the bullet. Others had joined them, pulling out weapons as well.
Ziva straightened and raised her head proudly, staring down their weapons.
Should get used to it, she thought. After all, she would die, one way or the other. And she'd prefer being shot to other ways of dying.
oOo
Missed for 10 weeks, Officer Ziva David was unofficially declared dead by Mossad. Perhaps her body would be found someday, in a week, a month or after years, so her death could be officially confirmed.
Hoping was in vain. Eli had hoped for a sign of life, had feared and hoped for a ransom demand but nothing had come. Hoping was in vain because if still alive they would have heard about his daughter by now. She'd be a valuable hostage. But the dead hold no value for terrorists.
oOo
The next morning, instead of hauling her to her feet after the waking call, two of them approached her, one holding a syringe. Suddenly he morphed into Saleem with his truth serum and Ziva panicked, yelled and kicked at them. Her escape attempt several days ago had alerted them and instantly they were all on her. Her panic rose, and she fought with all she had, tears on her face. One pressed on her broken leg and she screamed louder until a hand covered her mouth. She bit, hard, and a second voice continued the screaming. They twisted her arms and she pulled away and a sickening crack later something in her hand had broken. Someone angrily barked orders. An elbow was around her throat, they stretched her arm and the syringe pierced her skin. A moment later something connected with her head and she lost consciousness.
She woke up to laughter and pain. The pain was her own, the laughter came from far away, behind a door. The room she was in was gloomy and completely empty. Her right wrist and hand was swollen, and she slowly rotated the arm to inspect it. The skin had not broken but the flesh was red, swollen and tender. It was painful yet not as much as the leg.
They had changed cars Ziva noticed when they brought her outside a few hours later. She was now transported in the back of a normal car, its back windows so dark she could hardly see outside. Not that it mattered: They did not want to reveal to her where they were heading, so before they even started Khalid pulled out that loathsome bag and put it over her head.
From that day on they travelled only by night, if at all. Some nights they preferred to stay hidden, the atmosphere tense while frustrated whispering and hot arguments rose. Ziva often found herself on the receiving end of their bad temper. Thankfully their attacks were primary insults and threats about what to do with her, as Khalid had prohibited most of the obvious physical mistreatment in fear of killing her after all. Of course, it didn't stop the men to indulge in their cruelty completely. There was still the occasional hit to the face, pulling at her hair or kick to the ribs if she did not get up fast enough.
oOo
A week ago, the team of Leroy Jethro Gibbs had found out about Saleem's Caf-Pow addiction as well as his location and they were now preparing to avenge their former team member.
The mission was successful, Saleem and his men taken out, the camp dismantled, and yet no one was celebrating.
They would have never expected what they learned there. Ziva had been here. She had not died on the Damocles. Ziva had been a prisoner here until – a month ago – some other asshole claimed her and took her away. To some Hamas bigwig in Israel. In Israel. Saleem was clearly hateful about them, spilling his anger about their leader to his two prisoners but he did not tell them where his place was. Tony tried desperately to get him revealing it, who exactly had taken her, which route, intention…
They had no chance to signal Gibbs to not shoot him although McGee tried it but the sniper was far away and in the end Saleem was dead and all his knowledge lost.
oOo
"How's the leg, Princess?" A malicious voice asked suddenly and at the same time a heavy hand fell down on her knee. Startled, a sharp hiss escaped her, and he chuckled. "Not good, I suppose." By now one of them had set the bone, splinted it crudely with two wooden sticks and some tape. It still hurt as hell. Every movement of herself or the car was agonizing, and it prevented very effectively any thought of an escape.
The pressure of his hand made the leg throb wildly. That moment, Ziva was grateful for the sack over her head because it covered the unwanted tears.
Tears mean weakness. Do not show weakness.
"I promised you will regret killing him" he continued and strengthened his grip around her knee. By now Ziva was shaking and she fought to suppress a pained whimper. She used her tied hands to push his hand aside, her nails scratching over his flesh. He removed his hand and grabbed her throat instead. "Oh, little Princess," he whispered to her ear, "I can't wait to see you with Al Hari."
"Just leave her be, man. Aren't you tired of that by now?" The annoyed voice came from the front.
"Shut up. Don't tell me what to do. He was my friend," he answered but removed his hand.
Finally, the car stopped for the last time and the men around her cheered. It was true, they arrived after all. She had hoped for a miracle until the end. It was in vain. Ziva took a deep breath, her posture stiff, eyes closed. The door opened, and two sets of hands grabbed her arms and pulled her outside. "Come on, Princess."
Thanks for reading and I'd be very happy if you write some words for me. Seriously, it makes me smile every time :)
Until next time!