With Suzanne and Claudia's professional reputations on the line, only one piece of the political puzzle thousands of miles away needed to resurface. The question is: will it resolve past and present situations?
A work-related situation bothered Suzanne McNamara two, three years ago when she first began in craft services. Being a military child, she had few friends from childhood and difficulty making friends in adolescence. "Suz" was friendly to everyone but kept details of her personal life personal. Ziva David and Leroy Jethro Gibbs warned them of the conversation, and the male coworkers playfully ranked the women during downtime, waiting for the lunch service provided by Suzanne.
The men—Tony DiNozzo, Tim McGee and even once Jimmy Palmer-nicknamed the three dominant women of NCIS—Ziva, Abby Scuito and Suzanne-The Dimes." It was a compliment that all three were very attractive women on a 10 point scale. The perfect woman would possess the exotic beauty of one federal agent, the vibrant personality of a forensic scientist, and definitely, the hidden physique and often understated intellect and sarcastic wit of a lawyer/researcher.
"This week, Gentlemen: Miss Suzanne McNamara…"
On the screen was Suzanne's ID picture—glasses, wide smile and expressive eyes. The original picture from two years ago—tightly coiled, collar-length reddish-curly brown hair instead of her preferred, intricately braided curls. Still, it was Suzanne—same smile, similar style of glasses.
"Have you seen her body?!" Jimmy said, with the others looking curiously. "I mean…the uniform doesn't do her justice."
"I love her smile." Tim said.
"She has beautiful eyes underneath the glasses…definitely a dime if she lost those glasses…"
Suzanne missed the beginning of the conversation and overheard DiNozzo's assessment with a chuckling Tim and Jimmy. He stopped in mid-sentence upon seeing Suzanne, who said little and left the department. It was Ziva who chastised the men.
"They don't recognize a Lily in the Valley when they see one, Shoshana." Ziva mentioned her translated name in Hebrew—Shoshana or Lily, showing the softer, respectfully religious side underneath the tough exterior she displayed at work. "You are absolutely beautiful." It was how their close friendship began. Her "Warrior Princess," the true heroine.
In return, for compliment sake, she responded by simply "Zee" outside work hours and appreciated her twist of American idioms, learned Hebrew prayers and greetings of peace. They discussed everything—lack of love life, ambitions, sexism in the workplace (exchanging ideas over cocktails on how to deal with Tony DiNozzo), and questioning the greater spirits why on loss. Suzanne credited Ziva for helping her when times became extremely difficult. Ziva knew the entire Peace Corps backstory even before Jethro Gibbs. It was by accident when reviewing and performing simple data entry for the database; Suzanne's file was red-flagged.
Upon finding out the news-either mandatory therapy or losing her security clearance-she comforted Suzanne with a simple phrase: "Oseh Shalom."
Ziva held Suzanne's trembling hand, softly sang to a crying, weeping friend:
Oseh shalom bim'romav
Hu ya'aseh shalom aleynu
v'al kol Yisrael
v'Imru Amen.
'He who makes peace in High Places, He will make Peace for us and for all Israel and let us say, Amen.' "It is a prayer of peace." Ziva whispered.
She spent the night in Suzanne's modest home, discussing the circumstances upon her escape and the reasons all details were not disclosed.
"We're praying all night." Ziva suggested. "Individually…and as a team."
"Oh, to hell with it…" he moaned. Jethro slept on the couch.
Jethro's sleep was interrupted several times, as Suzanne tossed and turned, mumbled the strangest dialogue. Several times he called her, gently touched her shoulder but no response from his wife. The dreams…he knew about. Jethro promised to not get personally involved with his wife's work-related situations. "She's capable enough to handle any and every thing…" A White House official recently resigned, resulting in a promotion for a colleague and a backlash directly at Suzanne and the Owens Administration. The person, Jane Hamilton, appeared on every major news outlet, discrediting the work and reputation of the republic and Virginia bar member—Suzanne M. Gibbs.
"It is suspicious that Mrs. Gibbs worked for a governmental agency and refused to take a mandatory evaluation…" The loop continued to play over and over.
"It should make Americans wonder if Mrs. Gibbs had special favor to work in the White House?"
Two years later. No call. No forwarding address. Ziva David sent a present-a scarf and a card, scribbled with "Congratulations-Z." Her exit not only surprised her colleagues but deeply hurt the generally unflappable, resilient favorite non-agent Suzanne McNamara, now Gibbs. That morning she wore the scarf with a simple white oxford shirt, dark denim jeans and jacket.
"Damn, Zee…" Suzanne groaned. "I need you, girl."
Jethro Gibbs looked from his newspaper, gave an inquisitive look to his wife.
"You can't worry about Claudia and Jane Hamilton…not while you're pregnant." Jethro glanced at Suzanne's midsection.
"Everyone refuses to talk about Ziva, want to ignore her existence…" Suzanne continued, fiddled with a Star of David charm on her bracelet, a present Ziva purchased as a "Secret Admirer" gift years ago.
"You tossed and turned all night long." Jethro yawned. "This has to stop."
"Didn't I learn from you to follow my gut, Jethro?" She sipped on her coffee. No coincidence. She explained to Jethro the circumstances.
"Why after three years Jane Hamilton mentions, in exact order, my refusal for a mandatory psych evaluation, my friendship with Ziva and Jackie Vance? Jethro, my dossier doesn't mention anything from the Peace Corps..." Suzanne said. "I was given clearance for NCIS anyway…"
"Suzanne…" Jethro whispered. "She made her choice, Sugar."
"She made it under duress." Suzanne brewed the coffee, stared from the kitchen window and sipped. "No goodbye. No explanation…" She sighed. "Losing her father, feeling alone…I thought we were friends…" Jethro watched, merely listened. He knew arguing with Suzanne, a lawyer, led nowhere. For every logical concern, she answered with a rationale, heart and gut-driven response.
"Unfinished business." She sipped her coffee.
"Anyone knows about Israel?"
"Just you, me, SECNAV and the President." Suzanne said. "We had a SCIF regarding the situation. They know exactly why I'm going."
"When are you leaving?"
"Soon as I can." She glanced at her small bag. "I need to get her the hell out of there."
"I don't like this." Gibbs said repeatedly. "It's a trap."
"I know it is, but Ziva and I are connected." Suzanne sipped her coffee. "This has something to do with Hamilton, I know that much."
"I'm going with you."
"Oh…You're already packed." Suzanne chuckled as she rinsed the coffee cup. "That was a given."
A C-130 was ready for the Gibbs' within hours. Both Suzanne and Jethro were on the plane, along with Dash. Their landing was classified and mission. From a reliable source, they were able to find Ziva David outside of a town in the Haifa Coast. Her new identity was of a bilingual schoolteacher of young children. When they reached town, it was a school day and recess time. Suzanne respected the customs, her hair and body completely covered. The white oxford shirt remained on, the sleeves moderately rolled to her wrist and the jeans replaced with a long black skirt and matching head cover.
Ziva was upset more than elated to see Suzanne. She encouraged the children to play in the grove as she approached the familiar face.
"Can I at least get a hello?" Suzanne smiled.
"Hello."
"For some reason, I expected to see you at the Wailing Wall." Suzanne began. "I was there. The first place I stopped when I was in Jerusalem. I cried for my father. I cried for Director David, for Mrs. Vance, Delilah, Tony, for you…especially for you. I cried for several hours. I think I mustered enough tears to cry for all of us."
"You can get killed."
"So can you." Suzanne reminded. "Fortunately, we have people on our six." She pointed at Dash, standing in the grove, watching. "Seems that our people are getting along."
"Why are you here?"
"You left Washington."
Ziva sighed.
"Shoshana, I had to leave…You don't understand…"
"I understand you have a price on your head…" Suzanne said. "Since I'm here to warn you, so do I."
"I must atone for my part in the pain and suffering I caused."
"Everything we shared, Zee...?" A tear fell across Suzanne's face. "All that we've been through…as friends? Mossad? Ari? Citizenship?" Suzanne scoffed. "You can't carry that weight...not alone."
"You know nothing about this, Suzanne! NOTHING!"
"I don't know about pain, Ziva?!" Suzanne chortled. "The past two years have been filled with pain! My friends lost their fathers, their wives… My Nana is about to pass away; she refuses to leave Appalachia and live in Washington. Jackson passed away. Tim's father passed away. Diane passed away. Tell me again I don't know about pain!"
Ziva began to cry. Suzanne, tears in her eyes, openly wept. She began to walk away when Suzanne shouted in Hebrew: Go, hide yourself.
"ללכת , להסתיר את עצמך"
"That's' what you did when we needed each other the most!"
"Palmer and Breena's adoption plans fell through: the birth mother decided to keep the baby soon after the birth. It broke his heart in two." She continued. "Delilah's paralyzed because of Parsa. She and Tim attended the Black Tie event." Suzanne took a deep breath. "Delilah's in Dubai; Tim is still in DC and wants to marry her. Shall I go on? Because we've all gone through pain!"
Suzanne spoke softly, looked directly in Ziva's eyes.
"I'm not suggesting you could've stopped it. But having you around…could've brought some peace and healing." Suzanne said. "We've missed a friend; I miss my friend, Zee."
"I missed you too, Shoshana." Ziva gave her a strong embrace.
Suzanne paused for a moment once Ziva noticed a familiar face. There was Jethro, standing in the brush. Slowly, he walked towards the two women. He stared at Ziva, flashed a smile and embraced her.
"Hello, Ziver."