Ziva could hear their voices calling out medical terms, felt them moving around her, but her vision was a blurry mess. She'd pass out very soon.
The sweet copper of her blood poured out all over, overwhelming the air in the small vehicle, and making her sick. They didn't seem to notice. Or maybe they were just so used to the smell it didn't bother them.
She wished Gibbs was still beside her holding her hand; contrary to his orders, she didn't believe she'd make it to the hospital. She wanted to be looking into friendly eyes when she took her last breath, eyes filled with goodwill for her trip into the next world. The affection in his eyes would shield her from her sins, be the proof that she was worthy of a peaceful afterlife.
Not like Ari. Not like her father.
But, like her mother. Like Tali.
Her blurred vision became black, and Ziva was gone. Her consciousness escaped the ambulance for the deserts of Israel, and the big tree in her childhood backyard.
"Help me, Ari! I want to climb too!" Her six year-old self begged him.
She was jumping up and down, staring up at him, already in the tree. Her head was so thick with dark curls that few sprung from the clip her mother took great pains to fasten in.
"Alright, alright, Ziva. Let me come down, and I will help you up." He grinned indulgently at his little sister.
He was twelve, and unlike most big brothers, he did not live full time with his little sisters, and so treasured the moments he did have with them. Though Tali was very small still, a babe in a crib.
Little Ziva though, was a trip. Not like most little girls, and so damned determined to be just as strong and brave as boys twice her age, she would follow them up trees.
He dropped down from the lowest branch, and began lecturing her on safety. Her mother would be very upset if she fell out of the tree, so she had to listen carefully, and do exactly as he said.
He helped heave her up onto the lowest branch, lifting her by her legs, but letting her grab the branch and pull herself up. He followed her, easing her onto the next branch, proud of his baby sister's fearlessness. But, not so proud he wouldn't scold her for rushing herself.
"Go slow, Ziva! You must be careful, or you'll fall!"
"I am fine Ari! I can do it!"
Ziva pulled herself up onto the next branch, her skinny little legs dangling momentarily, her mouth shut firmly in concentration. She did not stop there. The next branch, the one after that, and on and on, until she was nearing the top, and Ari was sounding nervous below her.
"Please slow down, Ziva!" He scolded again.
"I'm almost to the top, Ari! Then I will stop." She turned and shot him a grin, no fewer than four teeth missing, casualties in the battle for adult teeth.
She'd yanked number four out before it was fully ready, tired of all the wiggling, and left her mouth a bloody mess. Gave her mother a good scare, and earned a lecture from her father on impatience.
In the next few weeks, she'd rip out two more loose teeth: one to show off to the boys at school, and one to scare a babysitter.
Ziva got to the last branch, tested the strength just as Ari had taught her, and found a good grip. Using all her might, she pulled herself up, finishing flat on her belly, panting with the effort. Then Ziva got a look down, and her chest grew tight. Oh goodness, she was so high up, so very high off the ground in her backyard.
"A-Ari?" She called uncertainly, hanging onto the branch for dear life.
"Right behind you, Ziva. What's wrong?"
"I did not realize how high we were."
He chuckled, and Ziva scowled at him, more angry at herself and her fear than her big brother's amusement.
The branch shook as Ari grabbed it, and pulled himself up, and Ziva clung to it with white knuckles, still staring at the ground far below.
"I will not let you fall, Ziva, Do not worry." Ari grinned as he grabbed her arms, and lifted her into a sitting position.
She sat, her back to him, her heart pounding in her ears. Ziva scooted back, so she was leaning against him, huddling beside her very brave big brother. He locked an arm around her waist, holding her in place, and offering her the security she needed.
Feeling safe now, Ziva took the opportunity to lean forward, to enjoy the view. She could see the surrounding yards, and all the roofs of the neighborhood houses. They were almost in the sky, and Ziva wondered what it would be like to live there, to live forever in the sky. To be untouched by the world below. The chaos and death of Israel, the cold eyes of her father, and the wavering strength of her mother.
"Hey Ari?"
"Yes?"
"Can we stay up here forever?"
"What?" Jenny snapped, staring at Gibbs in disbelief.
"You heard right, Jen."
"She was shot by cops?" The director slammed a folder down, anger winning out over worry.
"Yep. They mistook her for a Pakistani terrorist." Gibbs voice was neutral; he couldn't afford to be otherwise.
"How? Did they miss the NCIS logos? Are they rookies?"
"One is a rookie, the other has been around longer. And, she wasn't wearing her windbreaker or hat."
"Why the hell not?"
"Hat fell off, windbreaker was burnt, so she took it off. It happened very fast, Jen. She didn't have time to wonder if local cops would shoot first and ask questions later."
"Well, what about her vest?"
"She was wearing it, and a couple bullets did land in the vest, but two didn't."
He was in her office, reporting the disaster that had been their attempt to apprehend two terrorists. He'd rescinded his order to Tony and McGee, and driven back to NCIS with the cops himself. But, he sent an agent back to the scene with the crime scene bus. Tony and McGee were still there, protecting the scene and awaiting Ducky and Palmer. Abby was probably already at the hospital, begging for information in a storm of runny mascara, and red-faced explanations.
Jen was silent for too long, and Gibbs remembered that she had been friends with Ziva before any of the rest of them ever knew she existed. He didn't know if the two of them talked much now, but knew that Jen had a lot of respect for the Mossad officer. Ziva had saved her life once, and this could not be easy information for her.
She'd saved his life once too.
"How am I supposed to tell Mossad this?"
"With a phone call."
"Christ Jethro, her father is the Deputy Director, don't you think he'll want someone to behead?"
"He'll be a little pissed, but I'm sure he'll get over it."
"Oh yeah?" She was about the fight, but instead deflated. "How the hell am I supposed to call him, and tell him his daughter might not survive the night because two city cops can't tell the difference between a Pakistani terrorist and an Israeli federal agent?"
"I don't think he'll take it that hard, Jen." Gibbs doubted the man would do more but huff and puff.
"She's his child."
"The man doesn't know how to have children. She's his weapon," he said. "And, he doesn't deserve her."
Jen looked at him then, something different in her eyes. Realization maybe. That her former lover was taking this harder than he'd ever admit. "Maybe you're right."
He nodded.
"She'll be alright, Jethro." He needed to hear it. He might not believe it, but he needed someone to reassure him, before he ran out of reassurances for his team.
"Uh huh."
That was it. That was all she'd get from him on that. "Alright, let's go talk to these cops."
Drew paced around the interrogation room like a nervous rabbit, constantly looking from side to side, waiting for someone to come in. Jay was seated at the table, silent, but less nervous than Drew. He removed his cap and ran a hand over his burnt sienna hair, completely ignoring Drew. The kid looked guilty, pacing like he was, Jay wasn't about the let the Feds do that to him.
Their boss was on the way, as was a union lawyer, ready to defend them from the pissed off Feds. He couldn't really blame them, but still, she should have been wearing markings, something to tell them what she was. Especially, since she looked like one of them, though he supposed she should have been wearing all those veils and shit. He still didn't know what she was, her name sounded foreign though. Ziva?
Wasn't that a cheap beer substitute?
Or was that Zima?
The door suddenly slammed open, and the pissed off Fed walked in, accompanied by an equally pissed redhead. Lieutenant Combs was right behind them, and a young suit was behind him.
"Officers Thompson and Bergman, I'm your union rep, Ben McKenzie." The young suit extended his hand to the officers.
The Lieutenant came forward next. "You met Agent Gibbs already, and this is Director Shepard," he gestured to the redhead.
"Now that we're all acquainted, how about you boys tell us how you managed to put one of my agents in the ER?" She snapped, her voice offering no apology.
"It wasn't our fault," Jay immediately defended.
"Just tell us what happened, Jay, so we can clear this up." The Loo didn't see Gibbs shooting daggers at him.
"We didn't know she was a Fed, Ma'am," Drew said, his voice shaky.
"You didn't ask though, did you?"
"No, we didn't have time. She came running out, and was firing her gun, we thought she was one of the suspects, so we fired. It was our only option, she was already firing."
"Officer Bergman," Gibbs looked intently at the young man, "how many female Muslim terrorists have you ever heard of?"
"Uh well, none sir. They're usually men."
"And, how many Muslim terrorists have you seen wearing Kevlar vests?"
"None, sir."
"Then what made you think she was a terrorist, and not one of the federal agents you were dispatched to assist?" His voice was calm, patient almost, never betraying the pit of anger bubbling inside him, building up, like lava before an eruption.
"She looks like one of them," Jay offered, before Drew could speak and attempt to cover their assumption with political correctedness. "And, she was armed and firing. We made a split-second decision."
"She's Israeli, Officer. Not Pakistani. Jewish, not Muslim. And, she's fought to protect our country, not destroy it." Jen tried to keep her voice as level as Gibbs, but some venom seeped in.
The Loo held up a hand. "But, she was one of yours? What the hell is an Israeli woman doing with Federal credentials?"
"Officer David is on loan to us. She's a liaison with NCIS, an officer with Mossad."
"What's that?" The lawyer finally opened his mouth, asking the question in all three cops eyes.
"It's an Israeli intelligence organization, like the CIA but with fewer rules and more brutality." Jen enjoyed the little twinkle of fear in the patrol officers' eyes.
The Loo cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what you're looking for here, Director? Obviously, this was an error in judgment, an accident, and nothing more."
Her head whipped toward his. "What I want, Lieutenant, is to not have to call Tel Aviv, and tell them a couple American policemen may have killed Officer David. What I want, is to not have to tell her father he just lost his only living child. What I want, is something to tell my people, to reassure their shaken faith."
"Something we can give you, Director."
"Their badges, Lieutenant. To start. I can't promise her superiors in Tel Aviv won't want their own investigation."
"You can't seriously be thinking of turning them over to this Mosade?"
"Mossad. And, I won't send them to Tel Aviv, if that's what you're worried about. I will however, allow whatever representative they're sure to send from the Israeli consulate to have an opportunity to talk to the officers."
"I don't know if I'm comfortable with that." The Lieutenant frowned at her.
"I don't give a damn. These officers aren't going anywhere until I've settled this matter with Tel Aviv. I hope they haven't put American-Israeli relations in jeopardy." Jen rose from her chair then, and walked toward the door without looking back, Gibbs behind her.
He shut it harder than necessary, and followed her back to the bullpen.
"Can you call Abby, see if she knows anything yet?" They stopped at his desk, and for once, Gibbs just nodded.
The boys were still at the scene, and the bullpen looked too empty for his liking. There was no banter, no flirting, no McGee struggling to fix whatever destruction his partners caused with their pranks.
"Hey Abs," He said to the sniffle that answered the phone.
"She's still in surgery, Gibbs."
"They tell you anything else?"
"No. They said it would be awhile. Is it true cops shot her, Gibbs? Cause, that's like so wrong! Why would they do that? Couldn't they tell she's one of the good guys? Are they blind or just stupid, or…or…or were they just so, so, so incredibly incompetent they just fire at anything that moves? I mean, what's wrong with people like that, Gibbs? It's not fair, Gibbs. It's supposed to be the bad guys that do this, not the good ones, and…" She droned on, railing at the world with tears clinging to her throat, mushing her words.
"Abs," he cut her off. "I know it sucks. We're dealing with it. I'm going to need you back here going over the evidence when Tony and McGee get back, I'll send one of them over to sit with her, okay?"
"Okay, I just…it makes no sense, Gibbs!"
"Yeah, I know. You call me when she gets out of the OR."
"Of course, Bossman."
He smiled and hung up without a goodbye, turning to Jen. "Still in surgery, it's going to be a while."
She sighed, and ran a hand over her face. "What time is it in Israel now?"
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