Pivotal Moments
This chapter is extended scenes for Legends Part 1 (6x21) The first morning of Legends, Hadar calls before Michael, with an ultimatum for Ziva. This is the first of probably three chapters based on Legends 1-2.
A/N You may notice I've changed the titles of the chapters to the episodes they're associated with. Hopefully this should make it easier to navigate. Also, serious disclaimer time: a lot of this dialogue comes straight from the show.
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April 2009: Washington DC
Tony answered the phone off Ziva's desk, teasing her about the man on the line before handing it over.
"Shalom?" Ziva said.
"Officer David," said the crisp tones of Officer Hadar, one of her father's men.
Ziva's stomach dropped. She sat before her knees gave way, glad Tony and McGee were distracted at the other end of the bullpen. "Yes?"
"I have a message for you from your father," Hadar said coolly.
"What is that?"
"You tell him over and over that you cannot judge this man, Rivkin, from afar. So he is sending the man to you in Washington. By the end of the week he wants your report on the man, and if it turns out to be...less than accurate—in any way—it will be on your head, and he will no longer trust you to monitor his interests in the United States."
Ziva suddenly felt dizzy and forced herself to take a breath. "I understand," she said as firmly as she could.
Hadar hung up. Ziva slowly set the phone in the cradle, trying to control her features as she felt them contorting instinctively in panic.
She jerked with alarm when Tony spoke, having closed the distance across the bullpen more quickly than she'd realized. "Long distance can be hard. Telefriend from Tel Aviv?" he joked.
She groped for words that would put him off, give her enough space to collect herself. "You're just jealous."
"I'm not jealous," Tony snapped back.
"Yes, you are." She tried to find the right energy for banter.
"No, I'm not." Tony got the last word as they headed for the elevators, mostly because Ziva was still so tense she thought she might be sick.
***
"He got a name?" Tony asked casually later that morning, sitting on the edge of her desk.
"Who?" Ziva didn't look up.
"Star of David?"
She knew he meant the man from that morning and assumed that the caller had been the agent she'd told him about weeks ago. So she didn't tell him otherwise. "Oh, him. Yes, he has a name."
"Trevor? Bruce? Marmaduke?"
"Michael."
"Hmm. Sounded more like a Bruce than a Michael on the phone."
Gibbs breezed in to take McGee away, and Tony hardly got back into the swing of his mock-interrogation before her cellphone rang.
"Answer that!" he told her.
"Shalom." At the other end was Michael, excited to surprise her with a visit—as she'd anticipated. He was in DC as Hadar had promised, gave her an address nearby where they could meet.
"Cover for me," she told Tony.
"What? When will you be back?"
"Soon."
***
When she arrived, Michael's glass was already empty and Ziva's suspicions raised.
His demeanor was cheery but she could tell it was false. He greeted her with a kiss that tasted like vodka. "What a week," he said lightly, the tension in his face belying his voice.
"Bad?" Ziva asked as she sat.
"The op is ending," he said quietly. "As you know, in these sorts of situations, all the loose threads need to be cut."
She nodded understanding.
"Before I left," his eyes turned to his drink. "I had to deal with Shakira's brother in such a manner."
Ziva raised her eyebrows. "She's the girl?"
Michael nodded, finally looking up at her again. "I was told to," he said with more false goodwill. "I do as I am told."
She pursed her lips, sympathetic but unsure what Michael in this barely controlled state wanted from her.
"And so I come here. But I must return tonight; I am to buy the weapons for them, giving me, your father hopes, prime opportunity to disable the weapons and take out the dealer."
"Well, you must believe greater good will come of that," Ziva said slowly.
Michael tilted his drink back, swallowing quickly, rather than answering.
Ziva watched him, worried. His growing instability was clear, but she didn't see evil in him, and if she told Hadar he had to be extracted she could not be sure what would happen to him. But if she didn't report his behavior, she would be taken in herself when he inevitability lost control.
Her cell phone rang and Ziva glanced down. Tony.
"Hello," she answered.
"Oh hi, I'm not keeping you from anything, am I? Like, work?"
"Tony, I'm working on something," she said quickly, knowing another person's entanglement would only make the situation worse. "I'm following a lead."
"A lead. On Chandler?"
"Might not come to anything."
"Care to share?" She knew he knew she was lying.
"Tony, I cannot talk. I have to go."
"Go!" he said with false enthusiasm.
She closed the phone.
Michael smiled over at her, the liquor clearly taking effect. "DiNozzo?"
"I do not want to lie to him, Michael," she said, unsure if he'd assume her lie meant she'd lie to him, too.
"A small lie," he dismissed it easily.
She was still tense.
"Your father sends his love," he added, a reminder though he didn't know it of Hadar's threat.
"What else does my father send?" she asked softly.
He put his hand over hers on the table. "Me." Ziva could feel in his grip how much he needed from her. She was the rock he was clinging to in the storm that his life had become, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be, was in fact rapidly realizing didn't, but she had no choice—he wasn't letting go.