I am so excited that you guys have enjoyed the first chapter so much.
Late May 2013
Tony took one long look around his apartment before picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. His wallet and cell phone sat on his bedside table, where they'd likely stay until the remaining members of Team Gibbs realized that he and Ziva were missing.
These few days had gone by a lot faster than he'd expected them to. They very well could have left sooner, but Ziva was certain there was minimal threat at the moment, as a discreet but confidential contact assured her that none of Widow were in the country. Tony had wondered about Ziva's contact, but she assured him that it wasn't unusual for her to randomly reach out for information, so no one would suspect anything about her having reached out. The photographs, they'd determined, had probably been taken by a hired hand, someone who had most likely been contacted anonymously and who would probably turn up dead in a few days with no connection to either of them.
They would not be around for the photographer to surface.
Tony reached up to scratch his ear, startling himself at the facial hair he'd amassed. He hadn't shaven since the day they'd resigned from NCIS, and Ziva had instructed him to let his facial hair continue to grow, as it would help to disguise him. He grabbed a ball cap and put it on.
The plan was risky, he knew, but if anyone could successfully disappear – and bring him along – it was Ziva. She'd given him strict instructions, and he was determined to follow. This was no time to argue with her, not when the stakes were this high.
He took one final glance around the apartment, his eyes finally settling on the empty table, where just a few days ago, Kate had sat in her fishbowl, watching him almost accusingly. He'd given Kate to one of the neighbor kids who promised to take care of her. He told the kid that he was traveling too much for his job and he wasn't home enough to feed her.
Honestly, it wasn't even a lie.
With a sigh, he pulled the key to his apartment off of his key ring and set the rest of his keys down on the table. None of his keys would be going with him. He stepped outside the door and locked it, then crouched down and shoved the key under the door. He made his way to the stairs quickly, shutting the door behind him, lest he be seen by someone on his way out. He had to be sure he would not be noticed, that was crucial. His building was generally low on traffic, but he couldn't take the chance.
The street was quiet when he made his way out the door. It was just a short walk to the gym that he would go into, and then later hail a cab from.
He was careful to walk quickly but not so quickly as to arouse suspicion. Ziva told him about walking at just the right pace, and he'd never been so conscious of his steps before. Did he look like he was thinking about walking? He had no idea. Once he rounded the corner, though, he felt a lot more comfortable. The further he got from his apartment, the less likely it was that anyone would recognize him, and although he wasn't looking around and checking for surveillance, he didn't sense anyone's eyes on him.
The gym was one of those 24 hour places, one that Ziva had once had a membership to. She wouldn't be here tonight, he knew, but she'd told him that there were still plenty of people coming and going at this hour. As if on cue, a patron came by carrying a huge duffel bag, swiping his card and opening the door, and Tony grabbed the door behind the younger man, sliding inside. He hadn't been too concerned about being unable to get into the gym. Security at this place was pretty lax – they had a swipe pad for membership cards, but no cameras and no sign-in sheet, both of which they'd counted on for discretion. He had never been inside, so he would not be recognized. Ziva had chosen this place well. Everyone was too absorbed with what they were doing to pay him even the slightest bit of attention. He was just some random guy, here to run a few miles on a treadmill.
Tony made his way to the locker room and changed into some workout clothes. He chose a treadmill at the far corner of the room, facing a television that was tuned to ZNN, and started a light jog. He would run for about forty-five minutes, call a cab, and then take a shower while he waited for the cab to arrive. He'd have to bring his dirty clothes with him, but eventually he'd be able to wash them.
He hoped, anyway. He honestly had no idea where they were going, outside the flight he was taking tonight. He tried not to think too hard on it, however, because Ziva had planned out everything already, and his job was to simply follow her lead. Like this trip to the gym, a gym he had never paid a single shred of attention to until yesterday, but was now instrumental to his escape from the country. The gym was just a vehicle through which he could be picked up, as neither of them could take their cars to the airport. Ziva was apparently taking mass transit, opting to hide in plain sight as she made her way to the airport tonight. Her flight would be taking off soon, according to the time stamp on the bottom corner of the TV screen.
Tony tried not to let his anxiety show as he thought about how risky this whole thing was. Just because Ziva's contact was pretty sure that not one known member of Widow was in the States, that didn't mean that someone else acting on their behalf wasn't, or that the contact even had correct intel. Any number of things could happen between now and when both of them landed, safely and unrecognized, in South America. They were operating under a lot of risks, and Tony was reasonably sure that the uncertainty of their future was only beginning.
Seated at the gate area of her flight at Dulles, Ziva was also being as inconspicuous as possible. She was fairly sure that none of Widow were in the States, but she wasn't about to stop being cautious. Contacts were not always reliable. She looked at the clock on the wall of the airport, noting that Tony was probably just finishing up his run, if he was following closely to the schedule she had laid out for him and made him memorize.
She would be taking an earlier flight than he was, and from a different airport. They couldn't risk being seen together, even if they sat separately. They were too close to each other, too likely to give away that they knew each other just by their mannerisms. "Our glances," she had argued, "will give us away." They could not be seen together until they were out of the country. She'd come to the airport a couple days ago in order to purchase her ticket. It was a fairly late flight, and it had been easy to get a seat on the plane. Her flight didn't look full, and she assumed that the later flight out of Reagan would also have plenty of seats available.
She breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that Tony would also be able to leave the country tonight. The longer she had to wait for him to arrive, the more anxious she would become.
Her new passport bore the name Ana Navarro, and she'd spent some time tanning and dyed her hair black, carefully disposing of all the evidence of the hair dye. She wanted to look different, and so she donned a pair of reading glasses for good measure. She spoke perfect Spanish and used accented English, perfect for the flight into South America where they would land – separately – before making the trek into the rainforest. They would venture deep into the unexplored wilderness, where they would make their home and hide from the terrorists who wanted her dead. It was such a normal thing for her, being chased by killers, that she didn't even flinch to think of it, which was a good thing when surrounded by other passengers. She didn't want to do anything to draw attention to herself.
Ana Navarro had no reason to be overly suspicious of her surroundings, so Ziva engaged in the airport pastime of people-watching. Most of the people were absorbed in their phones, but she obviously hadn't brought hers with her. Instead, she'd purchased a magazine at a kiosk, and pretended to read while checking out the other people around her. She sat in the corner of the waiting area, surveying the entire room for anything suspicious. Securing the corner had been a bonus, as she wouldn't have to turn and look behind her at any point while she waited to board.
None of the people in the terminal seemed familiar to her, and no one seemed to be even the slightest bit interested in her. She watched as the attendant at the desk grabbed the loudspeaker, announcing that boarding would begin for the first group of passengers, those who were flying first class, followed by those seated at the rear of the plane. She would be seated toward the middle, on the aisle seat. Just another passenger heading home after a vacation to the United States. The Chilean passport had been a nice touch, one she was especially proud of making, a skill that Tony hadn't known she'd possessed.
She wondered just how he had always thought she'd gone undercover all those years when she was Mossad, but there was no use dwelling on it now. She and Tony had left their actual passports in their apartments, as they would not be using their own identities to travel. Much too risky an endeavor, and flight records were not secure. If they'd used their actual names, Widow would be waiting for them as soon as they arrived.
She'd wiped her hard drive clean after creating the passports in order to ensure that they could not be traced, a trick that she'd learned from McGee. He had taught her how to permanently erase all traces of what was once on her computer a few years ago. Innocent McGee had no idea then that he would eventually be helping her disappear, taking Tony with her. She almost felt bad about using a skill he taught her in order to disappear without telling him, but he had to have known that such a skill would prove valuable to her, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered to learn it.
And it had proven to be a useful skill. She'd erased Tony's computer as well, the last time she'd been at his apartment. Their phones were left untouched – they'd called each other only a few times, and refrained from texting at all. Texts could be retrieved. The phone calls between them were not abnormal. Reasonably, they would call each other as often as a few times a day. The lack of text messaging would be seen as strange, but they couldn't risk that anything said over text message could be used to track them. Both apartments had been swept for bugs, and found surprisingly clear of them, but even so, they'd done their planning together at a local carnival that had been in town, where no one had paid them any mind. It was like being undercover again, walking through the midway with their heads close together and their hands intertwined, quietly talking through their plans and looking to anyone who didn't know any better like they were a couple out on a date. For a brief moment in time, she'd almost convinced herself that their date was real, but she'd pushed the thought out of her mind, reminding herself that they could not afford any distractions. No distractions despite the way her hand had tingled at the contact between them, reminding her of the way she'd felt that evening they'd held hands in Tony's car.
They'd both left money in their bank accounts. It was of absolutely no surprise to Tony that Ziva had a sizeable cash stash that they would use to travel, one portion of which he'd seen her looking for when he'd come to her apartment the other night. They'd made nothing but the usual transactions, nothing to indicate that they were doing anything abnormal. Both of them continued to pay their regular bills, which would come out, as scheduled, every month. Canceling utilities or phone charges would arouse suspicion, and they needed none of it. Going to the bank was too big a risk, as they didn't want to be seen on bank security cameras. "They can pull up the cameras, Tony," she'd said, "and they won't be able to see where we are going, but we do not want them to notice anything." Ziva had had plenty of cash for the both of them, money she'd saved well for this exact scenario. Well, not this exact scenario, she mused, as she hadn't ever planned on taking someone along with her when she disappeared, but she still had saved plenty of money. Her father was many things, but he had taught her well.
Her own words of warning rang back in her ears. The plane ticket had been expensive, especially at the last minute, but where they were going, they wouldn't need a lot of money – certainly not American money. She would make a currency exchange when she landed, when everyone else from the flight would be doing the same thing. She would go almost entirely unnoticed, and she would be unrecognizable. Two of the features people always noticed when you showed them a picture of someone are skin tone and hairstyle. She'd changed both, and for good measure, her glasses were the kind that auto-tinted in bright light to hide her eyes.
She heard the attendant calling her boarding group now, and picked up her large backpack, the only bag she'd brought with her. Most would assume that it held clothing and toiletries, and they would be mistaken. She'd packed a few supplies, but most of what she would purchase she would handle when she arrived, at one of the local markets. There, she would purchase additional bags that they could use to carry more things, weapons, tools, fabrics – they were not bringing any clothes – food, water, and several other things. She had a running list of things she would need, but made sure to bring a few small items.
Ziva had done her research, and determined which vegetables would be the most likely to grow in the tropical rainforest. She'd gone to a Walmart garden center and picked up a bunch of packages of seeds, talking excitedly with the clerk about having purchased her new house and how she couldn't wait to start her own vegetable garden. She'd been Ana Navarro that night, and not Ziva David.
Sometimes, idle chatter would make you extremely forgettable to the average person, especially one who sees hundreds of customers a day. Even if she had been under surveillance, no one would have thought twice about a trip to Walmart. She was proud of the farm idea, though. Vegetables would supplement a diet of hunted and fished foods, and they would produce seeds that she could use to replant them and grow more. So she hadn't technically been lying to the clerk, she supposed. They were about to move to a new home, and she was going to have a vegetable garden.
Ziva handed over her boarding pass and thanked the attendant in Spanish, making her way down the tunnel and onto the plane. She would feel a lot safer once the plane took off, yes, but even better when she was finally able to see Tony again, to ensure that he had made it out of the country, too.
Again, she thought about how she never would have expected that she would disappear with someone, but she found herself feeling glad that Tony was going to be with her. She hated to admit it, but she wasn't as strong as she once had been, at least not emotionally. Physically, she could still take care of herself, but her father used to argue that her inability to keep people – Tony especially – at bay was a weakness, and a liability.
What her father hadn't seemed to realize was that she and Tony moved practically as one in the field, and together, they were nearly unstoppable. They were safer together.
She stowed her bag and sat down in her seat, and let a smile of relief spread across her face as she thought about getting away, really getting away, and being safe. The rest of the team would not be in danger, she was certain of that. Ziva David was the target, and starting right now, Ziva David basically ceased to exist. She'd have a layover before finally making it into Brazil, but leaving DC was the first hurdle.
She buckled her seatbelt.
Tony had showered and changed after his workout, and decided to wait outside for his cab. It wouldn't be all that unusual to stand outside and wait for the cab, and in the darkness of the late evening, it would be harder for people to really see him and recognize him. Still, he looked down toward the ground for the most part, only glancing up when cars drove by.
It had been about forty minutes since he had made the call, and the dispatcher said it would be about a half an hour. It was just as well, after all; he had a bit of time to kill before the flight he planned on taking. The cab finally rounded the corner and pulled to the side of the road, and Tony slid into the back seat, requesting to be taken to Reagan National.
The cab driver didn't seem to want to make conversation and Tony was perfectly okay with that. He'd put his ball cap back on, along with a pair of reading glasses he'd never let anyone know he owned - except Ziva, who had insisted that he wear them for the trip – and he'd kept his scruffy beard.
Facial hair was an identifying feature, and if anyone asked this cab driver, he never picked up anyone from Tony's building, which was the true beauty of Ziva's gym idea. They obviously couldn't drive to the airport. Their cars in the lot would alert anyone who cared to look that they'd boarded a plane and left the country. So they took other modes of transport, separately and from locations unrelated to their homes as an added layer of security. Ziva had really thought through every possible angle when it came to getting out unnoticed. And in the end, the cab driver might remember a guy with a beard from Dante's Gym, but not clean-shaven Anthony DiNozzo from Lakewood Place Apartment Homes.
He wasn't Anthony for this trip, though, he was William Morse. Bill Morse, Tony had decided, was an ancient history buff, and he was flying into Brazil and later traveling into Peru to check out the Incan ruins. He needed some sort of story, he figured, just in case someone decided to talk to him. It's not like Brazil was that a common destination for Americans to visit. Ziva had it easy, she had a Chilean passport and fluent Spanish. It wouldn't seem nearly as strange for her.
It didn't matter, he supposed, just as long as they got out of the country without suspicion. He'd seen Ziva this morning, only briefly. She'd stopped by to wipe his computer and "take a shower," saying that hers was not functioning and that her building maintenance was working on it, just in case there was someone listening in to their conversations. They'd finalized their plans with the shower running in the bathroom, talking in low enough voices that the water would drown any sounds out. Even though they hadn't picked up any bugs, they were ever vigilant.
It wasn't a terribly long drive to the airport in the late night traffic, and Tony paid the cabbie, muttering, "Keep the change," gruffly before grabbing his bag and sliding out of the door. The cab driver pulled away from the curb and drove off, and without a backwards glance, Tony made his way inside the airport, looking for the window where he would purchase his ticket.
He was glad that Ziva had purchased her ticket two days ago. Even though they were leaving from two separate airports and at two different times, it might still seem odd to someone that two different, seemingly unrelated people would pay cash for a flight to the same destination. Cash really couldn't be helped, however, as they couldn't very well have booked their flights online using either of their credit cards. They had no idea if the airports around here communicated with each other, but all it took was one ticket counter person to say something to another, and they'd be noticed. A two-day gap probably wasn't long enough for it to be easily forgotten, but that was the best they could do, given their urgency to leave the country. Tony was surprised that there was a line for the ticket counter, but it was Saturday night, after all, and a lot of people traveled on weekends.
When it was his turn to purchase his ticket, he handed over his passport. Ziva was apparently an expert at making fake identifications, and the ticket clerk, a bored-looking middle aged man, handed it back to him without a word.
Tony paid for his ticket, noting that the guy didn't say anything about his cash payment, and made his way to security. He didn't have quite as much time as he'd thought he would have, but it was just as well, less time for him to really think about how crazy this whole thing actually was.
Not only the fact that he was running away from DC, really the only place he'd ever considered home, but the fact that he was running with Ziva. Crazy.
The security line was pretty short, and he put his bag down on the conveyor belt, then removed his shoes and belt. He had no other accessories with him, not even a watch. Ziva had told him absolutely no electronics, nothing with so much as a chip or even a magnetic strip. Technology was evolving daily, and she didn't want anything that could conceivably be traced anywhere near them.
He felt kind of naked without his phone, weapon, and knife, if he was being honest, but without their federal agent status, weapons were out of the question. Not to mention all the attention they would bring to themselves at the airport by being armed. Better to blend in than to stand out, at least on this occasion.
Besides, once they went off-grid, they wouldn't want to make it easier for people to find them by shooting at things, and they could always just buy more knives once they got there. In fact, he was pretty sure Ziva was going to handle that and any other weaponry while his flight was still up in the air.
She was nothing if not thorough, especially when it came to weapons.
He slipped his shoes back on and picked his backpack up. It was pretty light, at Ziva's instructions. It made sense to him that they would buy most of their supplies there before they set out for the wilderness. Tony had some survival skills, but they were nothing compared to his ninja's. He was sure that as soon as they met up, she'd take his bag and stuff it full of things that he would carry for as long as necessary. Enjoy the light backpack now, he warned himself. Ziva was a master of packing, and he was reasonably certain that there would be no pocket left empty when they finally ventured out. The thing would probably end up weighing about as much as Ziva did.
The gate was pretty far away from the security checkpoint, and his flight was already boarding when he got there. He didn't mind being rushed to get on the plane, but he did use the fact that everyone else was preoccupied gathering their belongings and heading toward the doorway to gather some quick intel. Ziva had shown him some old photographs of some of the men he should look for, but he noticed no one matching their description. As of this morning, they were not in the country, but that could have easily changed.
Technically, he wasn't their target, she was. And he assumed she got out of the country safely, since everything at the airport seemed to be running smoothly. If there had been some sort of incident, there would be LEOs and security everywhere, but there wasn't, not to mention nothing of note on ZNN during his run. Even if there had been a minor incident at Dulles, security here at Reagan would have tightened up, and everything about the airport seemed to be blessedly normal. Ziva was probably safe. Granted, if Widow were secretly in the country, they very well may have grabbed her silently, without anyone else so much as noticing them. There was no way to know that she was safe, and getting on this plane right now was an incredible leap of faith, considering she was the one with all of the cash. I still remember McGee's number though, he reminded himself. If anything, he could call collect, pay McGee back, and run home before turning the universe upside down to find her. Again.
He really hoped it would not come to that, and that she was currently in the air somewhere, safely away from DC and the imminent threat against her.
As Tony handed over his boarding pass and walked swiftly onto the plane, he said a silent prayer to any deity that was listening that she would be safe. Seeing that there was nothing crazy on the news and no heightened airport security in the area helped, but he wasn't at Dulles like she'd been. He trusted that she was safe, he felt it in his gut, but he wouldn't be entirely convinced until he saw her with his own eyes.
Will they reunite in Brazil? You'll have to wait until Tuesday to find out. Until then, please let me know what you think.