Title : Egyptian Echoes & European Evasions
Pairing : Ziva David x Jenny Shepard
Disclaimer : NCIS is property of NSNBC. Everything written here is for entertainment puposes only.
Author Note : They never really touched on the past between Ziva and Jenny and it's always tugged at my curiosity. So why not fill in the blanks and see what comes out of it? Two very different women from two very different backgrounds on two very important missions. What did Ziva do to gain Jenny's trust? How did Jenny earn Ziva's undying loyalty? Hopefully these questions will be answered one way or another as the story progresses. I'm writing this as a friendship but I'm not adverse to it being read as something more. As always, reviews and critics are greatly loved.
- - - - - [ NCIS ] - - - - -
While Israel was warm in the sense of togetherness and familiarity, Egypt was warm in the sense of dryness and solitude. Endless blankets of sand crossing over one another, swept across by the slightest of breezes to make constantly evolving patterns. In the rarest of instances a snake of some form, could be seen slithering up a dune in search of food or shelter, silent and stealthy in its approach. Yet her careful eye caught it perfectly, even from the window of the quick moving vehicle. If she had her way, she would be the one driving for countless reasons, but it had been denied by those who were much higher on the chain of command. So she sat, poised and on edge, taking in every detail all at once in order to prepare herself for the mission at hand.
Casting a sidelong glance at the red headed mission sitting next to her, she couldn't help but flare her nostrils in distaste, uncertain of why her father had spoken so highly of such a task. He used words such as 'bodyguard' and 'diplomatic relations'. She could sum it all up as 'babysitting' and little more. They hadn't spoken since they mission debriefing, short and straight to the point, little left to the imagination. It was a joint effort, the United States and Israel, to take out a terrorist cell just to the North of Cairo, nameless and tasteless. The Americans were in it for the pride of taking out an organization that had been a thorn in their side for far too long. The Israelis were looking for information, a much grander scheme that Eli refused to divulge to her. It would improve relations between the two countries, killing two birds with one rock.
"השם שלי הוא שפרד ג 'ני. שמח לפגוש אותך" She spoke fluently, only the slightest of accents giving her away. Jenny Shepard was not a Jewish woman, and she was most certainly not from Israel. The extensive file that she had collected on the smaller woman was a clear indication of that.
"Ziva. Ziva David." She realized her intent with a questioning eyebrow. "I do understand English."
A nervous laughter filled the cramped Jeep, the driver completely oblivious to the tension in the backseat. The installation of the soundproof divider was well appreciated. "That's a relief. My Hebrew is a little rusty, I'm afraid."
"College?"
"Two years studying and a summer vacation in Tel Aviv. Very beautiful, a city I'd like to visit again if I ever get the chance."
"It payed off well, then." She noted lightly. It was rare that such a natural accent was picked up in such a short time. Either her teacher was very skilled, or the student in question was a quick learner. For the sake of the mission and the next two weeks, she hoped it was the later. Given her accomplishments in life, she had little doubt it was the case. High marks in all of her classes and courses, a very well aimed shot despite minimal in-field confrontations, and spoken highly of by all of her peers. "Weapons?"
"Excuse me?"
She sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Weapons." She repeated more firmly, sliding a knife from the arm of her jacket. "What do you have with you?" They were nearing Cairo now, the faintest hint of the city rising against the horizon through the heat waves and dusty breeze. They needed to be ready for a worst-case scenario. There was a fifty/fifty chance of a hostile welcoming when they began to ask questions. If it came to it, they would fight their way out.
Jenny shrugged her shoulders, gesturing towards the duffle bag beside her. "My M16 and a customized SIG with a 13-shot cartridge." A rifle, especially a M16, could save your life in the toughest of situations. She had learned that time and time again, and it was something she wasn't about to forget now. Her SIG was a trustworthy backup, small and clean with the ability to knock down and keep down. She watched as the Israeli frowned in response, deep in thought as she pulled a second knife from her cargo pants. Small, light, and perfectly balanced the way it rested against the tip of her finger despite the bumpy ride.
"We have a saying in Mossad." She turned the knife around so the handle was towards her, a friendly gesture. "A knife never runs out of bullets. Take mine, I have plenty." Jenny took the knife gingerly, pulling it out of its holder to admire the clean steel and well crafted edge. Sharpened to perfection, probably by the Israeli herself. Tucking it through her belt, the shift in weight at her side was a strange experience to say the least. She knew her way around guns. Knives were an entirely different story.
Silence settled over them once more, both facing out their respected windows, refusing to awknowledge the need to for a game plan. One would take the lead and the other would follow without word, it was just a matter of who decided what. They both knew it would be Ziva at the lead. She had the experience, the skill, and the focus neccesary for the task at hand. Jenny was still wet behind the ears when it came to foreign operations. Even more so when it came to diplomacy. She was a field agent, not a suit.
"I speak English, French, Hebrew, Spanish, and a few others. If the operation goes dark, we will switch to Hebrew. Too many Egyptians are fluent in English in this region. Is this acceptable?" Ziva's voice rang out through the car, a confident echo that dwarfed Jenny's growing concern.
"That's fine."
"If you feel you are in danger, there are eyes on you, someone following you? That feeling is usually correct, so listen to it. Act on it. It may just save your life." She was cleaning out a small pistol she had pulled from seemingly nowhere, checking the barrel with an almost bored expression. A natural killer.
"You're starting to sound like my partner back in the States."
"Oh?"
"He always tells everyone to listen to their gut. It's like an unbreakable rule to him."
"He sounds like a very smart man." Amusement shone in her eyes, tucking the gun back onto her person as the Jeep began to slow, buildings surrounding them, the commotion of the streets beginning to fill the emptiness. The driver gestured in the rear view window, a succesful drop off as far as he was concerned. As soon as they stepped out of the vehicle, they were on their own until they called in for a pick up, completely off the radar. It was exciting and terrifying all in one breath.
"We have a saying back in NCIS, too. Grab your gear." Jenny picked up her duffle bag, throwing it over her shoulder as she slid out of her side, slamming the door shut behind her. Ziva let out a low laugh, shaking her head ever so slightly. Perhaps working with an American Agent wouldn't be so terrible after all.