A/N: Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, and enjoyed the first two chapters! ;)
Chapter 3
"Any word on the director?"
Ziva David looked at her team members in mute frustration. She couldn't help feeling that she should have been there to prevent this from happening. She and the director shared quite a few memories, and after everything they had been through in Europe, Ziva refused to accept that some guy had simply walked right up to her doorstep and killed her.
"Still in surgery," McGee replied, looking just as helpless as she felt.
"But did they not rush her into surgery the minute Gibbs brought her to the hospital? How long can this possibly take?" The pencil Ziva had been playing with to distract her broke into several pieces when all her anger and frustration got the better of her.
McGee sighed. "I don't know, but I think it's a good sign. Means she survived this long."
"Hey, she's a tough one – Jenny. She'll make it," Tony insisted with probably as much determination as he could muster and looked at Ziva.
She desperately wanted to believe that he was right (for once), but optimism had never been part of her upbringing or training. "How could this even happen?" she returned to ranting.
"Gibbs said the director gave the security staff the day off," McGee said, although Ziva already knew that of course.
"Yes, but how could they actually leave?" Ziva could not understand how anyone supposedly trained in protecting people could be that stupid.
"Well, she is the director. They were following her orders," Tony said in a feeble attempt to find an explanation.
Ziva merely shook her head. "Then I would have retreated as far as necessary for the director not to notice that I was still there!"
"Unfortunately, you weren't the director's protection detail last night."
"But I should have been!"
"Hey, it's not your fault," Tony said gently, but Ziva shook her head once more.
"I just have this feeling that I could have known that she was in danger." This was driving her crazy.
"Well, if there were signs, we all missed them. So there's plenty of blame to go around. Don't be so greedy, Zee-vah."
She wanted to tell Tony off for making jokes about this, but when she looked at him, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Somehow, hearing the way he liked to pronounce her name when he was kidding around (as he often did) was comforting to her.
"Anyway, I sure hope she pulls through," McGee said, effectively ending the guilt discussion.
Tony turned towards him again. "I already told you, McPessimist. She's one tough cookie."
"I hope you're right. It's her birthday, too."
Ziva nodded sadly. "And I do not want to know what Gibbs will do when…"
"… when he finds you sitting here, dwindling your thumbs?" Gibbs' voice suddenly came from her immediate right as he walked briskly towards his desk.
"Boss!" Tony and McGee jumped to their feet, obviously eager for news on the director.
Ziva followed their example, but she could see from the expression on Gibbs' face that he didn't come bearing news. He looked tired, which was understandable since he had probably been up all night and only now came to NCIS from Bethesda without even changing first, judging from the blood stains on his coat.
"How's the director?" McGee was the first to ask.
"I don't know, McGee, but she would certainly make a quicker recovery if we caught the bastard who did this to her. So what do you got?" Gibbs locked eyes with McGee, and the fury that almost seemed to set Gibbs' eyes ablaze made the younger agent wince.
"I'm afraid not much, boss," he replied in a small voice. "Checked the security cameras. But all I've got is this."
He pressed a button on his keyboard and the only picture they had of the assassin appeared on the plasma screen. It was pretty much useless because it only showed a dark figure that was barely visible against the darkness of the background.
Before Gibbs could comment, another high-pitched voice beat him to it. "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! You're back!"
Abby rushed towards them as fast as her platform shoes would allow it while her black pigtails were bouncing up and down. When she reached Gibbs, she gave him a fierce hug. "Is the director alright?"
"I don't know, Abs," Gibbs said again, this time somewhat nicer. "Tell me you can do something with this picture!" he added.
Abby looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Gibbs. But there's really not much I can do. I tried lightening the whole thing up, but the killer had his face covered, so all I can tell you is his approximate height and weight."
"Fingerprints?" Gibbs asked.
"We checked everything, boss, but he was wearing gloves and didn't touch much of anything, anyway," McGee replied, although he looked as if he really rather didn't. "He just walked right up and… well left again."
"No sign of a dumped murder weapon either," Ziva chipped in.
"Or any useful witnesses," Tony added. "Neighbors were all out celebrating."
Gibbs looked at them furiously. "Tell me you've got more than that!"
They shared helpless looks. "Well, boss, what do you…?"
"How about a list of possible suspects?" Gibbs cut across Tony.
"She is the director of NCIS, Gibbs. She is a high-value target for about each and every anti-American organization," Ziva reminded him. She knew he was just as furious as she was, but this was not their fault, well, probably not…
But Gibbs was in no state to be reasoned with. "Then get on the phone and ask your contacts whether they have heard of anything and if it's the most far-fetched rumor they have ever heard!"
Ziva nodded, even though she didn't really think she would find anything. But keeping herself busy was probably not a bad idea.
"And you two, go through all the recent files she signed off on. Find someone or something that had a reason to get back at her!" Gibbs snapped at McGee and Tony.
"On it, boss!" the latter replied immediately, but they all knew they were looking for a needle in a haystack.
"What can I do, Gibbs?" Abby asked now.
Gibbs' tone softened. "Wait for those damn doctors to get that bullet out of her system."
"Oh, okay… and in the meantime, I will get you some coffee!" she decided and hurried off.
When Abby was gone, Gibbs sat down at his desk and seemed to have a hard time not to give into his fatigue.
They were all working in relative silence for a while, which was why the sudden ringing of the phone made them all jump a little.
"Gibbs."
Ziva looked from their team leader to Tony and he mirrored her own hopeful expression.
Finally, Gibbs hung up the phone and rose from his chair. "She's out of surgery," he said.
"That's good, isn't it?" Tony looked at Gibbs for confirmation.
"I don't know, DiNozzo. Have you found her attacker, yet?" Gibbs shot back.
"Uh, no, boss."
"Then keep working!"
Tony and McGee, who had half risen to their feet as well, sank back down, looking disappointed. Gibbs strode resolutely past her own desk while he said, "Ziva, you're with me!"
Gladly, Ziva jumped to her feet and hurried to take her SIG and her badge out of her desk. Despite Gibbs' incredibly bad mood, Tony of course couldn't simply leave it at that. "Hey, why can Ziva come?" he asked.
Gibbs, who had almost been at the elevator, turned back towards them. "Because, DiNozzo, that bastard you still haven't identified might come back to finish the job!"
At least now they knew that the director was still alive – for the time being. Ziva gave Tony a look that was supposed to tell him that she would let him know whatever she would learn about the director's condition and then hurried to follow Gibbs into the elevator.
They headed down into the NCIS parking garage in tense silence, and not for a second did Ziva think of arguing with Gibbs about who should be driving. And when they reached the Bethesda Naval Hospital a mere quarter of an hour later, Ziva had to admit that she couldn't have driven much faster than that herself.
Gibbs didn't bother to actually park the car – he merely dumped it at the entrance – and they immediately hurried off to the ICU. There they met with the doctor who had performed the surgery on the director. He looked grim but not as if he was about to deliver a death sentence.
"The surgery went fairly well," he told them. "Luckily, the bullet missed her aorta by a few inches. If it had ruptured it, she would have been dead immediately. But under these circumstances we managed to repair most of the damage. It was a very difficult and straining surgery, though. The next 24 to 48 hours will have to show whether she has enough strength left to recover from it."
"And if not?" Ziva dared to ask.
"Then she will probably die of heart failure," the doctor replied. "But we are monitoring her condition closely, and I think you can be cautiously optimistic."
They all looked through the window that separated them from the patient room that was now the director's. She was hooked up to all the usual machinery, but Ziva was relieved to see that she was breathing on her own. Her eyes were firmly closed, but after everything she had been through, that was not surprising.
"She will make it, Gibbs," Ziva said after the doctor had left them.
"Yeah? What makes you say that?" Gibbs asked, his eyes on the director.
"Well, if that were me, I would not rest until I got the chance to avenge myself or knew that somebody else took care of it for me."
Gibbs looked at her. "Then I trust that you won't let her out of your sight in case he comes back."
Ziva met his gaze steadily. "If he does come back… permission to shoot?"
Gibbs' expression was that of grim satisfaction. "Permission to do whatever your Mossad training reserved for bastards like that."
"Understood," Ziva nodded and started to hope that he actually would come back.
