Aftermath: Irrevocable Changes

Disclaimer: Not mine, though the lawyer is.

Penultimate chapter of this fic! However, I'm working on a sequel to it – I considered having the longer-term effects on everyone and Ziva's recovery/rehab as part of this, but that's going to have a different atmosphere etc. to this, so I decided that this fic is focused on the "acute" stage, when everything has only just happened, and the sequel will be a more longer-term one (I hope that makes sense – I've had a hectic, busy day so I'm tired). I don't know how long it will take me to write because I'm just starting a Creative Writing MA (part-time over 2 years) so that's going to be taking up a good chunk of my time! So please bear with me. It'll be another "Aftermath:" story so you'll know which one it is.

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Chapter 9

At two o'clock, a highly-caffeinated Abby bounded into Ziva's room, where she, Tony and McGee were playing a board game. The forensic scientist was waving an unmarked CD in the air, squeaking with delight, as she dived for McGee's laptop (she deliberately avoided Tony's, knowing that it was best to avoid inadvertently bringing up files she didn't want to see). "IgotitIgotitI got it!"

Tony reached over and tugged the Caf-Pow out of her other hand. "'It' is a bit vague, Abs. A bit more info?"

"Sorrysorrysorry!" Abby babbled hastily. "Guess what it is."

"Abs…"

"Pleeeeeeease?" She clutched her hands together in a begging gesture and turned heavily-mascaraed puppy-dog eyes on him. "You have to guess."

"If it's Vance moonlighting as a porn star, even I don't want to see it," Tony informed her.

"Ewwwwww!" Abby looked violated and Ziva gave him one of her You Are Seriously Disturbed looks.

"I didn't want to keep my lunch anyway," muttered McGee, glaring at Tony.

"Guess again." Abby bounced excitedly.

"Footage from when Ziva went undercover as a singer?" asked Tony hopefully, yelping when Ziva lightly punched his arm.

Abby sighed impatiently. "Tony!"

"Dearing in Ziva's father's personal torture chamber?" offered McGee, not entirely joking.

"You're getting warmer." Abby's eyes glittered.

Ziva caught on. "The interrogation?"

"Oh yeah!" Abby inserted the disc into McGee's computer to applause from the three agents. Tony manoeuvred McGee's wheelchair so that he could see the screen and then moved to the top of the bed so that he could have Ziva lying on him, her head on his lap.

Abby clapped her hands over her mouth. "Popcorn!"

McGee gave her a funny look. "Popcorn?"

"Popcorn! We need some!"

"Abby, this isn't Legally Blonde we're watching."

"C'mon, McSerious, we always have popcorn for the good interrogations!" put in Tony.

"I know that, I was just wondering how we're going to get any."

"I have some. I asked Boss to grab some when he brought me some clean clothes 'cause I knew we'd want it." He gestured towards the bag under the chair on which McGee's laptop was resting and looked smug. "I came prepared." He caught the large bag of popcorn that Abby threw to him and moved Ziva's legs to make room for Abby on the bed. "There are at least three bags in there."

"Sometimes, Tony, I really, really love you," declared Abby, retrieving another bag and opening it, before placing it on McGee's lap and sitting at the foot of the bed. "Now, are we sitting comfortably?"

"We're not in kindergarten." He ducked as Abby reached over to slap him.

"I'll take that as a yes." She hit Play and they fell silent as the recording started.

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The door of an unfamiliar interrogation room opened and Vance strode into the room with Fornell; a third man with an ill-fitting black suit, curly blond hair, wide blue eyes and a nervous expression on his face, followed them in. Fornell closed the door with more force than strictly necessary and indicated the blond man. "This is Peter Halifax, your court-appointed lawyer," the FBI agent informed Dearing, who was already sitting at the empty table.

Dearing looked confused. "Where's my lawyer?" he asked. "My personal lawyer. I don't want some court-appointed wet-behind-the-ears kid straight out of grad school!"

"Your lawyer is awaiting his own interrogation," Vance coldly informed him, removing the toothpick from his mouth.

"What?!"

Fornell allowed himself a small smile. "We picked him up last night and our forensics team are combing his house, office, computers, files and everything else for information and evidence. Perhaps getting your lawyer involved wasn't the smartest move, because now we've got him, and he's gonna talk because he'll want to save his own skin. Lawyers always do – sorry, kid, but it's true."

"But – but…!" spluttered Dearing in outrage. "Donovan would never betray me!"

"You'd be surprised at what a man will do to others when his own neck's on the line," Fornell remarked. "I've seen Mob men turn on each other faster than the blink of an eye."

Dearing calmly shrugged. "Donovan and I go back to high school."

"And these Mobsters have known each other since birth," countered Fornell briskly, unmoved.

"I, uh, I want to talk to my lawyer."

"Sure." Fornell and Vance left the room, leaving a very nervous Peter Halifax to converse with his client. The recording went black for a moment and then returned. Dearing remained in the same place and Halifax was beside him at the table, looking even more nervous and out of his depth than ever. Four men stood on the other side of the table in a row: Gibbs, Fornell, Vance and Eli David.

"So," stated Vance. His tone was devoid of all emotion. Dearing's response was to calmly shrug.

"Do you have anything to say to the families of those you have coldly murdered?" demanded Eli, clearly not wanting to waste time.

"Should I?" asked Dearing mildly. "Given who you are, don't you think you should be advising, rather than asking, me?"

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All four in Ziva's room sucked in their breath and Tony winced. "Ohhh, he went there."

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"This is not about Mossad," snapped Vance. "Now, answer the man, Dearing."

"Don't answer that," advised Halifax, his voice trembling slightly as he pushed himself to sound more authoritative.

"No comment," declared Dearing.

"Three agents and two others are dead because of your actions; that's murder," Gibbs told him coldly, refraining from losing his temper just yet.

"Put that together with terrorism and you've earned yourself a one-way ticket to the death penalty," added Fornell, crossing his arms over his chest. "It'll be a miracle if you get off with a life sentence."

Dearing shrugged yet again. "Who says that's a good thing?"

"You paralysed my daughter," a seething Eli cut in. "Whatever your sentence, I can assure you that you will be spending every day for the rest of your pathetic life looking over your shoulder, wondering when Mossad will strike. When, not if."

"Are you threatening my client?" asked Halifax, sounding a little more confident.

Eli smiled icily. "Oh no, Mr. Halifax; I am warning your client. My daughter is well-respected within my organisation; there are many who may consider taking action without any orders to do so from me."

Dearing definitely paled at this.

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"He is not exaggerating," Ziva commented.

"He's threatening Dearing without actually threatening him; I'm impressed," said Tony, smirking. "I like it."

"He does have a way with words."

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"Have you got anything else planned?" asked Vance sharply.

Dearing maintained his neutral expression. "'Anything' is a rather vague word, don't you think, Director?"

Vance rolled his eyes; he clearly knew that Dearing was attempting to wind him up – not that it would work because his children having an ice-cream war in the lounge was more likely to push his buttons.

"Answer the man!" ordered Gibbs, slightly sharper than before.

"Specifics would be appreciated," retorted Dearing, removing his glasses momentarily to clean them.

Vance sighed heavily. "Any attacks. Any more bombs. Snipers, gassing, poisoning. Anything at all targeting the Navy."

"That's more like it," replied Dearing, smirking.

"Well?" Eli's patience was already wearing very thin.

Another shrug. "Perhaps, perhaps not."

Silence fell for a good two minutes, with Dearing and Eli locked in a staring battle while the others looked on.

Eventually, Dearing turned his eyes away, unable to take the Mossad director's intense, piercing gaze any longer. Ziva was the only one able to outstare Eli. Gibbs, Vance and Fornell exchanged satisfied looks and Fornell stepped forwards. "You haven't answered the question."

Halifax looked nervous again. "You – you should answer that."

"Perhaps the Navy postal service should be paying attention to what passes through their hands," Dearing told them cryptically.

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"Anthrax?" asked McGee in alarm.

"Wouldn't be the first time, Probie," replied Tony.

Ziva shrugged. "I have received worse."

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Vance nodded at the other three men and then left the room. Dearing's nervousness was increasing and Fornell winked at Gibbs. "Do you know what most people are saying about the Navy?" inquired the FBI agent, his tone slightly more aggressive than before and more like the one his agents were all-too-familiar with.

"Poor security, for starters. How else do you explain what happened the other day?"

"That's a good point, I almost forgot," said Gibbs mildly, catching Fornell's eye. "Kidnapping – or at the very least, conspiring to kidnap – a federal agent should be added to the charges."

"Not that it'll make that much difference to the sentence," replied Fornell. "After all, five murder charges not including the aforementioned deaths, terrorism… Don't think he'll get to see the light of day again."

"What about bodily harm?" inquired Eli conversationally.

"Ah yes, of course, mustn't forget those," agreed Fornell. "Fifteen agents, various other staff – how many of those, Jethro?"

"Either seven or eight, can't remember exactly," answered Gibbs. He approached Dearing, his eyes icy, and suddenly slammed four newspaper front pages onto the table. "That's what people are saying!"

"Read them out," ordered Fornell.

"I don't think –" objected Halifax.

"He can read, can't he?" snapped Gibbs, cutting the lawyer off.

"Uh, yeah…"

"Then read the damn newspapers, Dearing!"

A little taken aback at the force of the outburst, Dearing hastily obliged. "'Bitter father goes too far'. 'Dearing the Devastator: how one man took his grudge too far'. 'Harper bin Dearing' – what?!"

"That's what tabloids do," Fornell informed him humourlessly.

"'Slaughter of Innocents' – how dare they?!"

"None of these people had anything to do with your son, so it's accurate."

"They're still Navy."

"Thompson Munroe, the government official your bomb killed? He'd never set foot on Navy ground before the day he died!" Gibbs shot back angrily. "Are you gonna say that to the faces of his family? Are you?"

"Uh…" stuttered Dearing, clearly flailing.

"And my daughter – what did she ever do to you?" hissed Eli. "She was not even in this country when your son died, had never been to this country back then!"

"What would you know about losing a child to terrorists?" retorted Dearing.

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All four winced in unison, knowing that there would be an explosion from the Director of Mossad and Tony squeezed Ziva's hand tightly, knowing that her sister's death still hurt her deeply.

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"I know everything!" roared Eli, pushing over the empty chair with a loud crash. "I lost my youngest daughter to a Hamas suicide bombing! And she was the sweetest, most innocent girl you could ever meet! She had never harmed anyone! Your son was hardly the cleanest of characters!"

Dearing leaned back slightly in alarm. "And you did nothing? I can't imagine that."

"I dealt with the people responsible! I did not deliberately target innocent parties who had nothing to do with it, with the aim of killing them!"

"I never meant to kill anyone!"

"But you did!"

"And good luck proving that to a judge and jury," added Fornell. "It was a bomb."

"You don't make a bomb unless you intend to cause injury, destruction and death!" shouted Gibbs, putting his face mere centimetres from Dearing's face. "You won't be seen any differently from Al-Qua'eda; that newspaper headline already proves my point!"

"But I'm nothing like them!" protested Dearing weakly.

"You're a terrorist! Doesn't matter if you're Al-Qua'eda, Hamas, Eta or anything else! The court hears 'bomb' and everything else you've done and they will see you as a terrorist! And people don't like terrorists and they certainly don't like seeing terrorists running around freely!"

"What was I supposed to do?" demanded Dearing. "The Navy failed my son and they failed me!"

"THAT'S NO EXCUSE!"

"There are procedures, channels you can go through," snapped Fornell.

"I tried," Dearing said.

"So you thought becoming a vigilante was the way to go?" demanded Gibbs.

"I had no choice!"

"YES YOU DID! There are three agents lying in the FBI's morgue! There are two others with them! All of my team are injured and one of them will never walk again! You could have chosen to not destroy the lives of those who had NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU OR YOUR SON!"

Dearing slumped in his chair, defeated.

"Take him back to his cell," ordered Gibbs disgustedly, walking out of the room and slamming the door shut after him. Nodding at each other, Fornell and Eli hauled Dearing off to his cell and the recording ended.

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TBC