Disclamer: Still don't own NCIS. I'm working on it.

Thanks to all my reviewers thus far.

Hope you like this chapter. I don't particularly like it, but that's just me.

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"Is it her, Duck?" Gibbs asked softly, staring at the unrecognizable charred body on the table in autopsy.

Ducky didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was filled with sadness. "Judging by the height, build, general description, I would say it's fairly likely," he paused for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him, "but we must not give up hope yet. There are still tests to be run, DNA analysis, blood work, dental identification." Ducky looked up, "it may not be her, Jethro."

Gibbs sighed and walked to the elevator. "Do you really believe that?"

Ducky sighed, watching the elevator doors close on Gibbs. "I don't know."


Tony didn't know what had happened. All he knew that he had been on the floor crying and then McGee was there beside him, rubbing his back and whispering reassuring words.

"How did you get in?" Tony asked, his throat dry.

McGee thought for a moment, weighing up his options. He finally decided that Tony wouldn't kill him. Not in his current state anyway. "Picked the lock."

"Ha," Tony found the strength to laugh bitterly. "You don't know how to pick locks."

"Yes I do," McGee retorted. "Ziva taught…" He trailed off slowly, remembering the current situation. "Never mind."

Tony looked up, eyes red from crying. "Ziva taught you, right?"

McGee studied Tony. "Yeah."

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "She was good like that."

McGee shook his head. "It may not be her, Tony."

Tony was about to make a sharp retort, but after one look at McGee he changed his mind. "Yeah," he muttered softly. "Sure."

McGee didn't respond. The two men just sat on the floor of Tony's apartment in silence, isolated from the world.


When Gibbs burst through the door of the director's office there was no witty remark about the door being there for a reason. There was no attempt to stop him by Cynthia. He just walked straight in. The first thing he noticed was the director sitting at her desk. Only on closer inspection did he see the lines of worry and bags under her eyes. Jenny looked up at Gibbs.

"Is it…" she trailed off weakly.

Gibbs was prepared for this. "Don't know yet," he said softly. "It may take some time to get the test results."

Jenny sighed, defeated. "How did this happen?"

Gibbs swallowed, guilt threatening to consume him. "It's all my fault," he sunk into the chair in front of Jenny's desk.

Jenny shook her head dismissively. "No," she muttered. "If this is anyone's fault it is mine. I let Lachlan work here."

Gibbs looked down. "And I delivered her right to him," he sighed, before answering the questioning look in Jenny's eyes. "I knew there was something up with him. I asked her to get close to him."

Jenny looked at Gibbs intently. "Jethro," she said softly, "Mossad was after her. They would have gotten her eventually. They aren't the type to give up easily. This is not your fault."

Gibbs stood up. "I wish I could believe you," he said, before leaving the room.

Jenny watched her office door close. Ziva couldn't be dead. Could she?


Hours later, Abby's machine beeped loudly, waking her from a fitful sleep. She wiped a hand over her face, feeling her wet cheek. She realized that she had been crying and suddenly remembered everything. Abby quickly stood up and walked over to the machine, dreading what she might find. Studying the piece of paper in her hand, she allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. Abby stared at the three words on the bottom of the page. DNA match: negative.


Tony awoke with a jolt, his phone ringing loudly in his ear. Groggily, he picked it up, glancing briefly at a sleeping McGee.

"Hello?" he asked, flipping the phone open.

"Tony! The test results came back," Abby's voice squealed through the phone.

Tony sat up, fully awake. "And?" he asked, eager to know, but dreading the possibility that she really was gone.

Abby squealed. "It's not her, Tony!" she shouted, jumping up and down. "The DNA didn't match."

Tony grinned widely, relief flooding his body. "Thank you Abby." He said, before hanging up. Below him, McGee was stirring. He looked up at Tony, eyes questioning.

Tony shook his head, never allowing his grin to drop. "It's not her."

McGee visibly relaxed. "Thank god."

Tony suddenly stopped grinning. "If that isn't her then where is she?" His mind ran through a hundred possibilities, each worse than the last.

McGee stood. "I wish I knew."


Ziva sat back in the uncomfortable aeroplane seat and closed her eyes. She was on her way to Europe. From there she would work out where to go next. Ziva smiled at the thought of her fake name, Lisa. McGee would be proud of that one. A hand clamped down firmly on her shoulder, disrupting her thoughts. She looked up quickly and was confronted by two tall men.

"Officer David." The first man said, removing his arm and taking the seat next to her. "Enjoying your flight?"

Ziva rolled her eyes, hiding her fear. "I was."

The other man took the seat on the other side of her. "Not anymore."

Ziva smiled. "So I guessed."

The first man nodded thoughtfully. "It really was a good trick though. The car crash, faking your own death."

Ziva laughed bitterly, assessing her situation. "Obviously not good enough."

"No," the other man said, "we have been tracking you for sometime now."

Ziva nodded absentmindedly, finishing her assessment of the situation. There was no way out that she could see. Cursing herself, she realized that she had walked right into this. She was 11000 meters above the ocean, stuck in the middle of two men that clearly wanted her dead and all alone.


A/N: So there you are. Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it. Please review.