"Agent DiNozzo?" Tony looked up from his shoes. The collar of his shirt scratched against his sunburned neck. "Director Vance will see you now."

With a grim nod of thanks, Tony stood, straightened his tie, and stepped through the door. It clicked shut with finality behind him. Once inside, he turned as Leon Vance rose to his feet from behind his desk, the early morning sunlight streaming in behind him. He eyed Tony's bruised cheek and solemnly extended his hand.

After the briefest pause, Tony stepped away from the door, closed the gap between them, and accepted Vance's grip.

"Congratulations on a job well done." He nodded in response, lips drawn into a line. Vance released his hand and indicated a chair. "Have a seat, Agent DiNozzo. Thanks for coming in so early. This won't take long." Vance settled himself behind his desk and folded his hands over a stack of cream colored files. He let a beat pass before speaking again. "Plan worked."

Tony didn't respond.

"It's a credit to you," Vance offered, unfolding his hands. When there was still no reply, he opened a file and sifted slowly through the paper within. "Gibbs and McGee, too, certainly," he added, pulling one sheet of paper to the top.

"Wouldn't have happened without them," Tony finally spoke.

"True," Vance nodded, "but mostly, it's you." His gaze settled squarely on the younger agent. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked gently. The smell of burnt coffee made Tony's stomach turn. "Your idea, your execution, your Op." He glanced down at the typed sheet before him, then back up at Tony. "Successful one."

"Some parts more than others."

Concealing his reaction, Vance shifted two folders deliberately before speaking again. His eyes returned to the file. "You seen David since you got back?" he questioned casually.

Tony inhaled, ribs protesting at the breath. "No. Not since we returned to NCIS yesterday afternoon."

Vance nodded slightly and finished a paragraph before he looked up. He took in Tony's slightly rumpled shirt and rimmed eyes. "You sleep since you've been back?"

Tony didn't answer, just held his gaze.

"I'll take that as a no." He reached for a pen and resumed reading the paper on his desk, making rough notations in the margins.

Seconds ticked by all too slowly. The back of Tony's neck began to itch. Eventually, he broke the silence. "Was that all, director?"

Slowly, Vance replaced the pen. He gathered sheets of paper, squared their edges, and tucked them back into their files. His hands once again folded on top of the desk. "No." A moment later, he found a toothpick and removed it from its wrapper. Sunlight glinted on the cellophane. "We need to talk about Saleem's camp."

Tony's vision flickered to the top of the desk. "You have my report."

"And Agent Gibbs' and McGee's." Vance nodded, then inclined his head. "But they don't tell me what I want to know. And neither did yours."

"What is it you want to know, director?" Tony waited for the answer he didn't want to hear.

"Ziva David," Vance spoke sharply. He leaned forward even more, resting his weight on top of his arms. "Where does she fall?"

"You'd need to ask her."

With a half smile of annoyance, Vance leaned back in his chair and exhaled before speaking. "At the moment, Miss David doesn't work for me. You do. And I'm asking your opinion. Just like I'll ask Gibbs and McGee. Is she worth taking back?"

Tony exhaled a mirthless laugh.

"Something you want to share?" Vance straightened.

Tony's lips pulled back to a humorless smile. He swallowed. "Just," he ground his teeth. "This whole time I've been trying to figure out if you're Sachem or General Webb. Turns out, maybe you're Montcalm."

Vance inhaled slowly, letting silence fill the room. Tony's head dropped down to once again study his shoes under the quiet rebuke. The fight drained from his body with each tick of the clock. Finally, he spoke. "What makes you think she'd want to come back?" he asked quietly.

The director leaned back in his chair. "Eli David left his daughter to die in a desert," he began matter of factly. "She was captured by the enemy. Mission failed and she had to be rescued. By us. By you." He pointed one finger at Tony, who looked up in surprise. "How do you think that plays inside Mossad? She goes back to Israel, what's she got left?"

"So you want her here?"

"I'm tasked with providing my agency with the best possible assets. I need to know if she's still one of them."

Tony nodded very slightly and focused on holding his features steady.

With a softer voice, Vance continued. "Contrary to what you may think, Agent DiNozzo," he began, "I am not the Sachem, General Webb, or Montcalm."

Despite his efforts, Tony's eyes widened in surprise. Vance drummed his fingers on top of the files in a deliberate rhythm.

"I'm not sentencing David to die in a fire in front of Mossad. I force her back to Israel, Eli will have her dead inside a year whether it's planned or not. If she goes, that's her choice. Big world out there; plenty of options for her. I'm just not sure one of them is here." Tony clenched his jaw. "General Webb," Vance continued, "failed to reinforce his troops. Was afraid for his own safety and sacrificed his men in the process. You ever wonder who pulled the hidden strings for you to get in and out of Africa to begin with?"

Tony's mouth opened, then closed. The morning sunlight seemed too bright, but his shoulders began to relax under its warmth.

"And I'm not the French guy, either," Vance grinned around the toothpick. "I don't hire other people to do my dirty work. Surely by now, you know whose side I'm on. I'm not the bad guy here."

Tony looked on in silence as the director stood. Finding his legs, he scrambled up after.

Vance's fingers rested on top of the file containing McGee's report. "Last of the Mohicans, DiNozzo?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Tony let out half a laugh in nervous acknowledgement.

Vance shrugged. "Creative way to get around truth serum. Just don't try it on a polygraph." He began to walk toward the door. Tony followed. "Though I gotta admit, Gibbs makes one hell of a Chingachgook."

Tony swallowed his surprise. Vance caught his expression with amusement. "One of Jackie's favorite movies. Probably seen it half a dozen times."

Tony merely nodded, and Vance paused with his hand resting on the handle of the door. His face drew together in seriousness once again as he faced the younger agent head on. "End of the movie," the director began quietly, "the younger sister, Alice, she jumps off a cliff. It's all too much for her. She's too fragile. Broken. Cora was always the strong one."

Tony watched, his own breath too loud in his ears.

"Decisions are going to have to be made, but I don't want to rush them. You asked me what I wanted to know."

Tony nodded, the message already clear.

"What I want to know, Agent DiNozzo, is which sister we took back from that desert." With that, the door swung wide and Tony was dismissed.