A/N: An so here's the next chapter friends. I apologize for the delay in updates. I've got a substantial amount written, but I find I'm easily distracted. Please review, even if you don't like it. I'm open to all criticism. Reviews equal faster updates.

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Jon Taylor was a Yale drop out. A drop out worth over a billion dollars because of a program he wrote, ITCDS; Internet Technologies Clandestine Defense Systems. As soon as the United States military got wind of it, they offered him all the funds he needed to complete in exchange for devoting all of his time to the project. Ever the ambitious inventor, Taylor agreed. In six years, he completed the program, which sought out glitches in any computer system in the world; none were perfect. ITCDS would then arrange itself to look like the glitch, however, in actuality, act as a pathway into the infected computer system. As rich as Jon Taylor had become off of his invention, none of it mattered, because at any second he could potentially lose his life.

Jon Taylor was sweating bullets as he walked through the halls of the home, well mansion, of his leader, Zeus. Yes, that was what he was called by those in the organization. Not even Taylor's billions could buy him access to his boss's name. Stopping outside his boss' office, he drew in a deep breath. Plastering a look of humble confidence on his face he entered.

"Taylor, what news?" asked Zeus without preamble. He was seated at his desk chair, facing out the enormous window behind his desk. Displayed were the immaculate grounds that were a tribute to Zeus's power.

"Uh, we lost them, sir. We had a crew comb the crash site and their bodies were not among them. It turns out that they never boarded." Said Taylor, resisting the urge to cower. It took all of his strength to keep his back straight.

"You said you had them on video surveillance in London. What happened? Did they stay in London, did they board a different plane? I need details!" Barked the man, still not turning in his seat. Zeus' fury was barely contained. It seemed that for all the money and elaborate equipment, his people still managed to fail him.

"They boarded a plane for Swaziland. That's when we realized we'd lost them sir. When we realized that the bodies were not among the victims, I went to check the the passenger lists. They'd booked two flights. They gave us the slip before the South Africa plane had even begun boarding." responded Taylor quickly.

"Where are they Jonathan?" asked Zeus, his terse voice deathly quiet. Taylor's face drained of color, so scared was he of his boss's change in tone.

"Well, we suspect that they are in South Africa, but we don't... exactly... know where. I can't find them." Taylor cringed slightly in anticipation of his boss's next words. Zeus was quite, thinking of his next plan of action.

"What is Ares' progress?" asked Zeus after a a while.

"He and his unit are in South Africa, coving the general areas that Churchill spent any time in. However, without the actual clue we have no concrete data. We don't know where to look and we can't mount as big a search as we'd like, on account that we'd like to avoid suspicion." answered Taylor promptly.

"Contact Apate. I want her people to find the NCIS agents. When she does, she is to alert Ares. However, Ares is not to make a move until after they figure out the next step. I want the woman captured. I care not for her friend. We shall see just how intelligent Eli David's daughter is. Tell Ares' to set up shop in Johannesburg. He can use what ever resources he needs." Zeus' voice was cruel and malicious. Had Jonathan Taylor been a younger man, yet to be corrupted by money and fame, he would have felt some sympathy for the woman. Ares was a brutal man known for his rather abrasive interrogation skills and his love for women.

"Yes, sir, it shall be done." replied Taylor, turning his heel.

"Jonathan," called Zeus as the young man was half out the door. "Your invention is a useful one. However, if I can get more done with the leg work of others, I will. Do not return to this office unless you have something to report."

Jonathan stumbled from the room.

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While Tony would never admit as much out loud, he found the landscape breathtaking. They were off road, tumbling along in Hausmann's sturdy Jeep. The vast planes were permeated with rolling mountains, creating what Tony would have dubbed the African Sound of Music.

"Have you ever been to South Africa Mr. DiNardo?" asked Hausmann politely, noticing Tony's fascination with the landscape.

"No. I've always been more of a city boy. I prefer the office work. Lisa here convinced me that we could write a much more compelling biographical if we actually went to the places Churchill did. I can honestly say, it's much more enjoyable than I thought it would be." "Lisa" was asleep in the back seat. Tony was grateful that she'd opted to sit back their on her own volition. He'd promised no jealousy, but that was easier said than done. Hausmann was quiet, in what Tony interpreted as a contemplative facial expression. He looked like a man deciding whether or not he would regret what he was about to say.

"Spencer, I'm going to be frank with you, because you and Lisa look like a good sort. But I expect honesty." Tony simply nodded, not looking at the man.

"Why are you really here? You're not exactly the biographical type. And well, I'm big not stupid. I saw Lisa's...encounter with the Swaziland officer at the office. Again, not typical of a biographer." Hausmann kept his eyes on the road, for which Tony was grateful. The big man could not see the panic fill his eyes. Tony knew he needed something fast, and Ziva was not awake to cover him this time.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Georg," said Tony feigning ignorance. He knew it would not dissuade Hausmann, but he needed to buy time to think.

"Cut the bullshit, Spencer. Take me for instance: I'm a big guy, not a typical tour guide. I served in the military for many years. I know this land like I know myself. I do not look like a tour guide. You do not look like a writer. Neither does Lisa." Tony took a deep breath, appearing the child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"We've been honest with you Georg. We are very interested in Winston Churchill's background. I used to be a cop. I suppose investigating is something that's in the blood. As for Lisa, I don't really know. She's had it rough though. She was on her own for a long time before we met. She had to be self reliant, tough. She's used to taking care of herself and actually does a fairly good job of it. But she's doesn't put up with other people's shit, that's for sure. I don't pity the guard in Swaziland." responded Tony, adding conviction to his words.

"Why did she have to be so independent?" asked Hausmann. Tony's response seemed to ease his worries.

"You know the story Georg. An asshole for a father. The kinda guy that expects her to give up her dreams for his whims. Then a little bit later down the rode, a brother who turns his back on her and some time after that, an idiot boyfriend that thinks she's his to use as he pleases." responded Tony bitterly. He wasn't sure if he was happy that he didn't have to lie to Hausmann. It upset him that his partner's life had been so bad that he didn't have to fabricate a reason for the metaphorical walls she'd constructed over the years to protect herself from the wiles of others.

"You care a lot about her then? She obviously trusts you." remarked Georg casually.

"I guess she does. She's my best friend. I trust her too." he said, continuing his stare out the window. Hausmann decided that that was a good point to finish his interrogation.

Unknown to either men, a certain Lisa Daniels had woken up some time ago. At first she was disoriented, however the sound of Tony's voice captured her attention. She was humorlessly amused at Tony's ability to sum up her past with such honesty and yet, ambiguity. If you only knew the depth of truth. She wasn't sure if her thoughts were directed at Hausmann or Tony.

The bitterness in Tony's voice was not lost on Ziva either, and she was comforted to know that Tony felt so strongly on her behalf. Deciding to let her wakefulness go unnoticed, Ziva feigned sleep for the rest of the ride to Colenso.