A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal

by Vicki Turner

Ziva David is no stranger to death. This is a series of drabbles exploring Ziva's history with different faces of death from sickness, to bombs, from guns, to knives. Each drabble can stand alone, but together they map Ziva's unique perspective on death.

4. Knife

IV. Sakiyn (knife)

Red hair helped her spot the American agent. Unfortunately, the catching color on the dusty side streets of Cairo, away from tourist sneakers and short skirts clued in unfriendly faces as well. Ziva sped up, fingering the sharp blade hidden in the folds of her abaya. Extreme modesty, sometimes, was the most deadly of disguises.

Wonderfully warm blood oozed over one hand as the other muffled the dying moan. Ziva smiled toward the sun, and cleaned her stained hands with dirt.

"You should at least wear a hijab." She stuck out her sandy hand. "Ziva David, Mossad."

"Jenny Sheppard, NCIS."