It was a long flight, not only because it took 12 hours. With each mile they got closer and closer to the unknown. Each of them carried with them their own worries, memories and questions. CJ had never been to her mother's homeland and although she had travelled a bit with her parents she had never travelled this far or to a place this 'foreign'. CJ was not comfortable heading into situations she didn't know how things would work and going to a funeral in a far off land for a man she barely knew but had heard many 'stories' about had her unnerved. There was a small part of her that was even frightened. She had come to realize a few years back the reality of her mother's upbringing and that the jokes about her being an assassin weren't actually jokes. She had also learned from Eli while they had their one and only conversation on her veranda back home that he was the Director of Mossad and during the time Ziva had been part of the organization he was her 'commanding officer' for lack of a better term. It was these two facts and the lack of any other information that had CJ fretting about the lion's den they were all willingly walking into. To make matters even more alarming Ziva had asked CJ to keep the fact that she spoke and understood Hebrew to herself. If people thought she couldn't understand them she would be safer her mother had explained. 12 hours of a racing mind and nowhere to escape, no spinning chair to help her think. 12 hours stuck in a cramped airline seat with nothing to do but worry.

Tony had been to Tel Aviv only once and it was a trip he would rather forget. Not that forgetting was possible but he had little interest in reliving the 2 days in Mossad headquarters with Eli, Hadar and a very angry Ziva. The previous trip had also been sparked by a death, one that Tony was responsible for. It is hard enough being responsible for taking someone's life without having to deal with the fall that had occurred when Tony shot Michael Rifkin. Tony shuddered in his seat at the thought of the incident. Ziva's hand instinctively ran through the hair on the back of his head to settle him. They exchanged smiles even though neither knew what the other was thinking; they were there for each other. They had been for so many years and this journey wasn't going to be any different.

Ziva couldn't hold onto a thought for more than a few seconds. Memories and questions jumping in and out of focus. Growing up in Tel Aviv, missions, training, people, friends, Michael, Ben, her father not able to keep one thought coherent enough to process. Yet on the outside Ziva appeared to be the most relaxed the most calm. Her training so ingrained that it took over her external movements and expressions. She hadn't even begun to process the fact that her father was dead; there was no longer an opportunity to set things straight.

Gibbs had been reunited with his father through a case and although when Jack died they probably couldn't have been described as close they did have a loving relationship of mutual benefit. Tony was still on the bumpy road of reuniting with his father. He had gained some knowledge into his father's past and had come to if not understanding at least acceptance for whom and what is father was. Ziva, she was a different story. Her father's choice in how he raised his children wasn't one she had ever questioned, she understood. But the lying and manipulation of his children and other officers for what seemed like nothing important was something she had yet to forgive. And that didn't even breech the subject of Somalia, the trip to the desert as those close to her referred to the time she had been imprisoned for months. Her father had abandoned her, left her to die. That couldn't be forgiven, NOT ever.

And so as a family full of turmoil, fear, confusion and anger they stepped off the plane into the sunshine of Tel Aviv. The beauty of the day so incongruent with their thoughts and feelings they were unable to appreciate it. They easily cleared customs and retrieved their luggage. Together they made their way through the airport to the arrivals gate. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people waiting for someone. Families calling to a loved one, drivers holding signs for to hook up with customers lined the hall that led to the exit. Neither Tony nor Ziva had arranged for a driver and so paid no attention to the crowd. CJ on the other hand was fascinated with the experience and was taking in every sight and sound. It was CJ that noticed a tall, dark haired man holding up a sign with her parents' names written neatly across it. Tapping Tony on the shoulder CJ pointed towards the man Tony instantly recognized as Ben Gidon, Ziva's travel companion on her Somalia adventure.