Chp. 4

Ziva's apartment

February 9, 2008

1800 hours

With Tony's help, Ziva bought everything she thought Collin would need. They had been home for an hour and everything was quiet. Tony was stationed in a car out front. Ziva was reading, and watching Collin out of the corner of her eye. The little boy was watching TV. He caught Ziva watching him and came over to her, climbing into her lap. He laid his head on her chest and she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him. Several minutes later, the boys deep even breathing told her he was asleep. Her cell phone vibrated on the table and she snatched it up before it could wake the boy.

"David." She whispered.

"Ziva, its Terry, you guys ok?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Why is something wrong?"

Terry hesitated. "We were attacked."

"Are you ok?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah, we're fine. The kid and mom are shook all to heck, but we're fine."

"Ok, call me if you need anything."

"I will. Thank you."

Terry snapped the phone shut and turned to the FBI agent standing at his elbow. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Sir."

He worked to the ambulance where his mother and Samuel were being checked out. His father was with them. "They ok?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, they're good." Terry looked at the boy. "You ok, buddy?"

"Scared."

Terry ruffled his hair. "Then I guess I'm not doing my job. It's my job to make you not scared."

"Is that why you have that?" The boy asked, pointing to Glock 30 in Terry's left hand.

"Yeah, it is."

Jen and Gibbs smiled at each other over the toddler's head. Gibbs and Terry walked to where Tobias Fornell was standing. Samuel looked up at the director with wide, frightened eyes. "We be ok, wight, Jenny?" he asked, tears in his eyes. Jenny hugged him close and whispered soothing words. Gibbs walked back over and looked at his wife.

"Fornell loaned us a car. Let's go." He said, helping his wife to her feet. Samuel was asleep.

000

When they arrived home, Jen carried Samuel to the guestroom and put him to bed. Gibbs joined her. Terry went to basement. The gun safe was in the back corner. He opened it and surveyed the weapons inside. There were two Glock 21 .45 caliber pistols on a shelf with three magazines each, and a dual shoulder holster. He grabbed the holster, guns and magazines and went back upstairs to the kitchen. He put the guns on the table, got a cup of coffee and sat down. Something told him that the attack at the railroad tracks was only the beginning.