A/N: All characters, cases, and locations belong to CBS and affiliates. Thank you for all the feedback and comments. There will be two more chapters. Please review.
The party was in full swing. The hall was decorated in shades of silver and navy. A full scale orchestra sat atop the stage and the dance floor was full of couples with their hands filled with champagne glasses and little snacks.
"No sign of him yet boss."
"He's somewhere, DiNozzo," Gibbs's voice cracked in over the earpiece. "And try to at least blend in a little DiNozzo. Your mouth is gaping open."
Ziva chucked and took Tony by the arm. "Come on, Tony, let's go get a drink."
She seemed to catch the attention of several of the men as they walked over to the tables lined up with glass of champagne. Tony picked one up and handed it to her.
A group of older, Middle Eastern men eyed the pair. "Hassem's not in that group over there. Why does the older man look familiar? Ari?"
"Zivaleh, that's the Deputy Director of the Iranian Embassy. He may recognize you from Mossad. Try to avoid eye contact. He's in the red suit and black turban."
"Copy that," she said, taking a small sip of alcohol, sensually. Tony felt himself swallow a large gulp of the drink, trying to act calm.
"Miss? You look rather ravishing this fine eve…"
Both Ziva and Tony turned to see a middle aged man smiling nervously in front of her. His eyes took up her form hungrily. "Back off, buddy. She's my date," DiNozzo said loudly.
"Sorry, about him. He's a little … how you say blue with jealousy," she whispered, sliding a hand down his jacket sleeve.
"She means green," Tony snapped, pulling her away from the man and towards the dance floor.
"Hands to yourself, Agent DiNozzo," Ari voice hissed and DiNozzo smirked. He wrapped an arm around Ziva's small waist possessively as the man sauntered away, eyeing her face for a reaction, but she gave none.
"Dance with me, sweet cheeks?"
"Do you always call your partners such nosey names, Agent DiNozzo?"
"I think you mean cheeky, Little Miss Multi-Lingual and yes, I do. Don't your Mossad partners call you cute names?"
"No, not really. We try to be a little more professional at Mossad. Attachments become weakness far too quickly to allow such names to steal someone's life in the line of duty. Weakness isn't tolerated."
"What about your brother?"
Ziva gave a small, but sad smile. "Yes, tateleh," she said softly.
"Tateleh," Tony said, trying out the word as he spun her. Her body was warm against his. She was a fantastic dancer, he realized, as they moved to blend in farther with the couples dancing. Fluid and light, he could easily dance with her for the rest of the night.
"I didn't mean to upset you or anything," Tony began quickly but the momentary emotional young woman was washed away in a blink of an eye and the emotionless warrior was back.
"You did not upset me. Ari … Ari and I had been separated by my father for a long time. I hadn't seen him in months before yesterday," she said.
"Why?"
Ziva laughed, though her face echoed bitterness.
"My father sent Ari to Edinburgh to study medicine and I rose up in Mossad's ranks. I traveled all over the world with my unit. There's Hassem," she said, nodding to a well-dressed Middle Eastern man in the corner of the room near the orchestra. He was in a deep conversation with another well-dressed white man.
"Eyes on the target, Boss," Tony said quietly as Ziva rattled off in Hebrew to her handler.
"Copy that DiNozzo. Don't spook him."
"I don't think we can follow him without his guards noticing. Looks like there're five or six of them," he said, quietly in her ear. She nodded, looking over his shoulder to see the five guards, packing guns on either side of their boss.
"They're from an Iranian militia," Ziva said. "Ari, they have the upper level marks on their necks. I can see the ink from here. I think they're going to make the drop."
"Do not engage, Ziva, there are far too many causalities at stake for an altercation."
The two drew closer into the shadows and as Toy twirled Ziva again, she noticed the exchange of a heavy brief case and a room key. "The drop's been made. Hassem gave the buyer a room key. Probably for a hotel room with the codes already there."
"What do we do, Boss?"
"Leave Hassem. You need to get the buyer to take you to where the files are. Hassem won't give him the actual chip. There's too much that could go wrong," Gibbs spoke up. "Miss David, it's time to show us that Mossad training that you're so famous for."
Ziva smiled as the song ended and she gracefully nodded to Tony, moving away. The orchestra bowed and reseated themselves, beginning another ballad.
"What about me, Boss?" Tony said, running a hand through his hair as he accepted a small plate from one of the waiters around him.
"Stay close, but let her do what they trained her for."
Ziva had gracefully floated over towards the man, eyeing him slightly from the corners of her thick eyelashes.
"He's from the Ukraine, Zivaleh," Ari spoke calmly. "Alek Vera. Age forty six. Served in the military for nine years. Avid traveler. Speaks five languages. He's got a large horse ranch and is in charge of the militia in western Turkey. His sister died in a bombing thought to be caused by the American forces there."
She came to sit down at his table, perching lightly on the chair next to him. "Is that a medal from the national horse race in Turkey, 1987?" she asked interestedly, nodding to the pin on Vera's jacket.
One of the guards, put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up innocently at him. "Such serious faces. I'm sorry, I thought this was a party."
She made a move to get up, but Vera grabbed her wrist sharply.
"Yes, a party. The day has been much too long without any fun," he said, with a thick accent. "Do leave us alone, Yessiv. Have something to drink, relax. Our business is finished for tonight."
"I've apprehended Hassem, Boss. He's got the money, but not chip or files. Vera must have it Ziva," McGee's voice shouted into the earpiece, sounding out of breath. If Ziva heard this, she made no move to acknowledge it.
The guard nodded and stepped back away from the table, following orders.
Vera leaned forward, looking Ziva up and down before smiling. He was tall and thick with a slight scruffle of a beard, like he hadn't shaven in a few days, on his cheek. He wore an expensive foreign suit and had blonde hair. His hazel eyes locked on her face.
"What a pretty little flower you are, young one."
"Thankfully, not too young," Ziva said, her accent thickening slightly as she leaned back in the plastic chair.
"Your accent is very unique. I have not heard it before. Where are you from, little one?"
"Oh here and there," Ziva said airily. "I like to think we are all from somewhere we used to be and somewhere we wish to be."
Vera laughed loudly, running a finger over his stubble like he was thinking hard. "My, my. Little flowers like you should not be so wise. What do you know about horses, flower?"
Tony watched as Ziva continued to chat up Vera for several minutes. "So this is what Mossad taught her," he snapped into the microphone. "Flirt with suspects?"
Ari chuckled on the line. "Mossad taught Ziva to be able to infiltrate some of the most highly secure organizations and governments in the world, DiNozzo. Sometimes it is as easy as talking and batting her big brown eyes. Other times, not so much. I assure you, it is not as easy as she makes it looks. You must know what to say at all times. Just what buttons to press to make the bomb explode. You have to learn how to read people, to see what hold them together so you only have to pull one string to make the entire thing collapse."
"Sounds like interrogation methods to me," Tony grumbled, sipping some more champagne. He nodded to a group of women who were staring at him from across the room. They giggled amongst themselves and he smirked in response.
"Is there such a difference between the two?"
The tone Ari had adopted made his blood run cold. Just what was Ziva capable of? Just what had she learned from Mossad?
"They're on the move, Boss."
"Wait thirty seconds then follow them. McGee's handed Hassem off to the FBI in the parking lot. He's not talking so David's our last chance to find those codes."