A/N: Okay, I am seriously, extremely, way-too-much sorry for how long it's been since my last post! I've had serious writer's block, and then I got a new computer and the document didn't transfer right...anyways.
I think that because I haven't written this story in such a long time and the fact that I had writer's block anyway combined to make this not the best chapter ever. But I'm not going to put myself down anymore, I'm just going to put it up and let you-all have at it.
Disclaimer: I wish. I don't even own an NCIS DVD!
Ziva could hear excited footsteps tripping over themselves as they came down the stairs – two sets. Her door burst open and the man who'd beat her came around in front of her, as did the man who hardly spoke. Neither one noticed the new position of Ziva's arms. The first man's eyes were bright as he glared at Ziva, disgust and pleasure both evident in his face.
"Your time left to live is very short," he told her. "One of us has been taken into custody by NCIS. Your 'friends' will be fed false information, just enough to keep them on the chase. But by the time they figure out none of it is true, you will be long dead – they will never find you." His voice rose almost comically with his pleasure at killing her as he stepped forward with his bloody steel-toed boots.
She would not give in. She knew Gibbs, McGee, even Tony would figure it out. They were not going to go on a wild-goose chase when it came to her. Would they?
McGee was fuming. This man who sent shivers of revulsion up his spine had just told them where Ziva was being held – the same place McGee had tracked him to before the coffee shop. He couldn't believe this man – this John Rollins – had tried to lie to Gibbs, who had picked up quickly on his fallacies; suddenly doing everything short of punching him in the face to show the team meant business. The panicky man had finally told them everything, knowing he would be a lot worse off if he tried to double-cross this team, this man called Gibbs.
McGee was resisting the urge to do something drastic to Tony, whose constant movement was almost as aggravating as the uncertainty of Ziva's condition and everything else at that moment. His patience with everything was wearing thin, his need to go find their missing agent almost overpowering. He'd only felt like this once before – when the need to get revenge on Ari for Kate's death had been the only thing filling his brain. But it had not been so overpowering, so prevalent. Ziva was more of a sister to him than Kate had ever been.
Tony was ready to go. His backpack rested by the doorway to the observation room, the van keys dangled from his hand. He couldn't stand this waiting, this not knowing what was happening to Ziva. Drumming his fingers on the ledge of the window, he tried not to snap at McGee, who was standing perfectly still. Yes it was tempting, but it wouldn't help anything. It was almost impossible to stay here. They knew where she was, why weren't they leaving immediately, why hadn't they left five minutes ago?
Gibbs couldn't stand to be in the interrogation room a minute longer with the repulsive man sitting there, but he was having trouble getting up and opening the door. He now knew where Ziva was, but why couldn't he bring himself to leave?
Suddenly he knew. He stood up and started pacing, Rollins' frightened eyes following his every move. Abruptly Gibbs stopped just behind the man, leaning down and whispering into his ear. Rollins' frightened eyes popped, making his already awkward features look distinctly comical. Finally satisfied, the silver-haired team leader left the interrogation room, not surprised to find both his remaining agents waiting for him, gear and keys in hand.
Ziva prayed silently this time. The silent man had not left the room after his friend had had his fun: he sat behind her, his beady, leering eyes fixated on her back. She shivered with the thought, her whole body repulsed by the idea of this creepy man watching her. This brought her out of her prayers hastily – she had never been disgusted by a gaze before. The thought disturbed her. Was she becoming too soft?
At this point she did not care. Her mind fell into the familiar prayers again, oft-used words comforting her spinning thoughts. Her battered and bruised body protested the slight sway that accompanied the rhythmic Hebrew flowing through her brain.
Suddenly she flexed her hands and feet, an unknown feeling to be ready falling over her. She continued to pray but stayed on high alert, listening for any change in the man's breathing or more footsteps on the stairs.
Abby was beyond nervous. Her whole team was out there, at the hands of these evil men. Her fingers flitted over her keyboard, looking through all the things she had found out about Sean McNamara, John Rollins, and everything else related to this case. But that didn't sound right. She couldn't call it a case when it was all focused on Ziva – there was too much at stake.
A noise at the door startled her. She whirled around and came face-to-face with Ducky, who seemed unperturbed by her jumpy reaction.
"It is all right, Abigail. They will find her," he said, leaning slightly on the computer desk next to her. She nodded.
"I know that, but I'm still worried. They're all out there with this madman who wanted Kate and got Ziva and he hurt her, Ducky! I can't believe someone would do this to her!" Ducky let her ramble on for a few minutes, then held up his hand to stem the flow of words.
"I know you're worried, but you must remember – we have Leroy Jethro Gibbs on our side," he told her. Her face cracked into a quick smile and she nodded before going back to her computer screen.
"Yeah, I know that. And I'm going to help him do all he can to catch this guy."
A/N: So what you think? Worth the wait? Probably not. Still. Please review!
