A/N: So here's the chapter. I wasn't planning this; it just came out as I wrote it. I love it when that happens. Enjoy! Don't forget to review.

Ziva slammed her fist down on the elevator wall in frustration. She hated this. She hated not knowing, especially after not knowing anything at all for three days straight. She hated that Vance was being so… Whatever the English word was for whatever he was! She hated Tony for leaving and making everyone hurt so much, and for what? They were at a dead end. No new evidence, no new clues. A killer was still out there and there was nothing she could do about it… Except leave. If she left headquarters and went out publicly, she'd be exposed and before long, another attempt on her life would be made. She could lure him out, she knew she could. Then everything would be alright, everything would be normal again.

The elevator doors opened to the squadroom and Ziva grabbed her things swiftly before McGee had a chance to say a word. She felt as if she was in a daze as she walked around on autopilot. Nothing mattered but fixing this. She got into her car and drove out of the Navy Yard to her favorite coffee shop. It was the one Michelle Lee had gone to, passing on information to save her daughter. The same coffee shop McGee's fanatic psycho killer used to work at. So many memories here. But today, she wouldn't think about it. She was on a mission.

She walked up to the cashier, ordering a large white tea. Her heart was racing as she looked around as covertly as she could to see if anyone was watching her. No one yet. Ziva picked up her drink from the counter and sat on the steps outside of the coffee shop. It was a humid, overcast day, and everyone was hovering inside, the parking spaces all jam packed. The sky was threatening to break loose with rain at any moment. Soft jazz hummed quietly from inside the shop. She took a sip of her tea, glancing around her as she did so. A car rolled by, and she checked for the driver. A mom and her child.

Ziva sat there, sipping occasionally, checking for all the usual places someone might watch her from. But today the roofs were empty, the cars were vacant, the store windows only filled with mannequins. A cold drizzle of rain began to fall, and it was then that she heard a faint tapping of shoes from behind her.

"Hello, Ziva," a familiar voice said.

"Michael," She breathed, her brow furrowed. Michael Rivkin. "What are you doing here?" She asked her former Mossad partner as he sat down.

"I am doing the world some good," He gestured to the coat in his hand, the barrel of Beretta pointed at her. "Don't try anything stupid. Just act normal," Ziva heard him cock the gun, though muffled beneath the coat.

"You never were working for Mossad," Ziva said, slightly shocked, yet trying to stall for time.

"Oh, I was. Mossad came in… handy, as Americans like to say. I met the right people. Gained the right resources. Learned the right information," His Israeli accent with thick, but his English was perfect.

"You were the one after Tony,"

"Yes,"

"And Jeremiah Stoner?"

"He was just--"

"A pawn?" Ziva finished for him, remembering Jennings' words.

"You could say that,"

"You got Stoner out of prison?"

"Yes, but I did much more than just that," He looked out at the street before them, lined with stores and shops with a small, contented sigh. "Each one of these buildings has a large case of C4 on its roof. It is routed wirelessly. All I have to do is press this button," He pulled out a device from the pocket of his jacket. "And we all go up in flames,"

"Why did you want Tony dead?"

"Tony was in the way. He was on the opposing side. And in this game, there will be no winners," He smiled at her sadistically.

"What was he in the way of?" Ziva asked as calmly as she could, though her voice was just barely shaking as she searched for a solution, a way out.

"Winning,"

"What is the prize, Michael?" Her heart was beating faster by the second.

"You of course. When you left Israel last summer… Ziva, that was not a good move,"

"I visited you only a month later,"

"To break up with me,"

"But I didn't,"

"A wise decision,"

"So why kill me?"

"Because I know about Ari,"

Ziva was shocked, but didn't say anything.

"You are wondering how I know," He observed. He smiled. "Hm. Figures. You know, I am as smart as I look,"

"Which isn't very smart at all," a familiar voice said.