After Aaliyah left with her family, Ziva turned her attention back to the case.
"What have I missed?" she asked as she sat at her desk after seeing the Yosef-Majors clan on to the elevator.
McGee let out a sigh. "Dead ends—and a lot of them, Ziva."
"McSleuth isn't wrong." Tony agreed. "Hey, does anyone think it's weird that the only people the Yosefs have talked to that are involved in this case are Gibbs and the director?"
"What about her, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, walking into the break room from wherever he had vanished to and taking a seat at his own desk.
"Nothing, boss!" Tony said quickly.
"Good man." Gibbs looked to McGee. "Have you shown Ziva the sketch of the suspect yet?"
Ziva promptly asked, "There is a sketch? Were the details provided by Clayton Warner?"
"Yeah." McGee walked over to his friend's desk to show her the sketch. "How did you know?"
"The director filled me in." Ziva held out her hand. "Let me see that, please."
McGee handed Ziva the paper and she examined it, but immediately had a start.
"Oh, my God!" she cried.
Tony and Gibbs were immediately on their feet and gathered around Ziva's desk.
"Talk to us, David." Gibbs told her when they saw her put the paper back down and begin to massage her baby bump. "You recognize this man?"
Ziva nodded and looked at each of the men before her. "Everyone, this is Abdul Yosef, the one member of the family whom none of us have heard from yet."
The team was taken aback, and Gibbs pressed, "Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent, Gibbs."
"How?" McGee wanted to know. "Abby ran this picture through a few different types of facial recognition and nothing popped up."
Ziva pointed to a jagged scar on the man in the picture, just above his right eyebrow. "I gave him that scar in a fight when we were younger. If he is not with his parents right now, I doubt he would have left D.C. at all."
"Why's that? Coming from a family like this one, he should be more than clever enough to hop on a plan and go somewhere else."
"Yes, but only if he wanted to make himself appear guilty—clever though Abdul is, he does not have the connections nor the money to get himself to a country, even in disguise, that has non-extradition policies in place."
"Would your father or his help if he asked one of them?"
Ziva shook her head. "No. Abdul Yosef is what is described as a 'party animal,' or at least he was, back then. All I know is that even before I left Israel, he had succeeded in burning his bridges."
"Does the director know about him?"
"Yes, although by the end of that conversation, we had labelled him as a 'low threat.' Now… I am not so sure. What do we do?"
"It's more you: get on the phone with the Yosefs and ask if they've seen their son. If they don't cooperate, get your dad to lean on them until they do. Got it?"
"Yes. Anything else?"
"Ask one of them to send over a picture of Abdul."
"I understand."
After that, Gibbs, Tony, and McGee went back to their seats while Ziva picked up her desk phone and began making calls.
The only thing that panned out for the rest of the day was the Yosefs faxing over a picture of their son.
The rest of the afternoon fell through because by the time that Tony and Ziva had to leave to pick up Ella Brave and Alison Joy from Bronwyn's house, it looked as though Abdul Yosef had just vanished into thin air. Even with a BOLO, nobody had seen him.
On the way to Bronwyn's house to collect the children, Ziva became unusually quiet as dark thoughts clouded her mind that wouldn't leave her alone. So concerned was Tony that he pulled over on the side of the road, near a park, which was deserted because of the cold and the snow.
He put the car in park and turned in his seat to talk to her. "What are you thinking about, Ziva? And don't say nothing, because I can absolutely see the wheels turning in your brain."
Ziva sighed heavily and faced her beau. "I love working at NCIS, and I could never imagine working elsewhere…"
"But…?"
"What if something happens while this whole ordeal is going on?"
"Care to be more specific?"
"I mean, what if something happens, like for example, one of us getting abducted or hurt? Whom do we want to take care of our daughters, hm? You and I come from questionable families."
The concerns she was voicing hadn't escaped Tony's thoughts, either. "You don't want your dad raising the kids if one of us gets into a quandary? Is that what you're saying?"
"Indeed. I adore my father because he is my father and because he raised me, and I cannot wait for him to meet Ella and Alison, but I still do not want him to be their caretaker when he doesn't even know them."
"Then who would you want to their guardian if something happens to us during this case?"
She thought for a minute, then said, "The Llewellyns, because they know them so well."
"I like that idea, too. How about we ask them when we get there?"
"That sounds like a good plan."
Ziva blew out a breath and massaged her middle when she felt Rivka Faith give her an extra hearty kick.
"What about after this case, Tony? What if both of us get abducted or seriously hurt at some point? Who will be their guardians then?"
Tony sighed, but only because the thoughts of his daughters without him and Ziva there to protect them caused his heart to twist into anxious knots. He had never been a crier in general, but the knots definitely tugged at his heartstrings.
"Ducky and Autopsy Gremlin are out. I like them, but no."
"What of Jethro and Jennifer?"
"I love them both as much as you do, and they're also as good as parents to me, but…"
"They are getting old, and they will have their hands full when their own little one comes." finished Ziva.
"I'll give you that because it's reasonable, but you realize who that leaves, right?"
"Abigail and Timothy."
Tony snickered. "Can't you just call them Abby and McGee?"
"Not right now. What is the phrase that describes this version of guardianship and care-taking that we are discussing right now?"
"Godparents."
Grinning, Ziva said, "Then sometime soon, maybe on Ella's birthday, when we have the family over, we can ask th—"
Ziva's words ended in a scream when she saw something bad outside, just over Tony's shoulder. When Tony turned, he immediately saw what had Ziva upset: a big white van had pulled up to the side of their car and the door slid open. Two men jumped out, and while one opened Tony's doot and knocked him out with the butt of his gun, the second man wrenched open Ziva's door.
"Abdul?" Ziva cried when she saw him. "No! No! No!"
"Shut up!" he hissed. "Shut up and get out before I force you out!"
Properly scared, Ziva got out of the car and let her abductor lead her to the van and shove her inside. Because of her time in The Mossad, Ziva had had plenty of training in what to do in the instance of kidnapping, and she'd even been taken on two other occasions. Things were different this time because she was in a committed relationship and had three children, one of whom was kicking and stretching out in her womb at that moment. Cooperation was more than important right now.
It just made her heart ache that the last image that she had of Tony was of him slumped unconscious over the steering wheel and bleeding.
They drove and drove for awhile, and because the back of the van had no windows, there was no way for Ziva to tell where they could be going. Eventually, they arrived in what Ziva deduced to be some kind of warehouse because when the van came to a complete stop, she heard something like heavy automatic doors shutting behind them.
"Okay, Abdul, what is this place?" asked Ziva. "Where are we?"
"Quiet!" he snapped as he took her from the van and frogmarched her forward. "Keep walking, Ziva, lest I get my gun out again!"
For the sake of hers and Rivka Faith's immediate safety, she fell quiet and observed her surroundings: she was in a storage warehouse at the docks that looked like it was used to house the exports and imports for the cargo ships, and judging by the building's well-kept condition, it was used regularly. The living space Abdul had set up and was occupying with a few other people—all Israeli, Ziva noticed when they started whistling at her—was a high-trafficked area, and she had no doubt that someone was getting paid to make sure that the dockworkers outside were looking the other way.
After they exited the living area, Ziva was brought to a small room that looked like some kind of office. One of Abdul's cronies was already there, beating someone one up, shoving her around and laughing almost barbarically, not caring that the person before him was begging for mercy.
Though Ziva was occasionally known for her own violent tendencies, she was no monster and she abhorred seeing an innocent person get hurt. That was why, she felt her heart jump into her throat when she recognized who the other person was.
She gave a loud, upset shriek of, "RACHEL!" before she wrenched herself out of Abdul's grasp and ran to her friend to protect her. The assailant back off immediately—Ziva was off limits and hurting her was punishable by being shot and/or pushed into the water outside.
Ziva's heart turned over and sank when she took in Rachel's pale color and weakened state, on top of all of her bumps and bruises. Whatever was going on with her wasn't normal.
"Oh, Rachel," Ziva sighed as she took off her jacket, sat down and held her friend in her arms. "What have they done to you?"
"Z-Ziva?" Rachel rasped, immediately feeling safe when she recognized her companion. "H-how d-did y-you get h-here?"
"Never mind, my friend. You do not look well, so I am going to look after you."
Rachel wanted to be helpful, and in spite of her weakened state, she did her best. "I-I'm diabetic, a-and I j-just h-had a hypogl— hypo—"
She couldn't finish her words and was already stuttering because of how drained her system was, but Ziva had spent enough time in Autopsy at NCIS to know exactly what Rachel was driving at.
The officer looked up at Abdul and barked, "Give me Rachel's purse!"
"Do you take me for an idiot?!"
"Only if you cannot see that she is ill—you have my word that I will not call for help! I just need to see if she has medicine; I trust that you do not want her any sicker, yes?"
Deciding that Ziva had a point, Abdul found Rachel's purse, took out her phone and tossed the bag to Ziva. She caught it and emptied the contents on to the floor, knowing exactly what she was looking for.
When she found it, she passed it to Rachel, asking, "Is this what you need?"
It was an insulin injector pen.
"Y-yes." Rachel answered.
"Where does it go?"
Rachel pointed at her left hip.
Working fast, Ziva lifted the left side of Rachel's shirt, uncapped the pen and administered the medicine. It took a few moments, but when Rachel's medicine kicked in, ending her hypoglycemia attack, she was able to sit up straight and fix her shirt.
Sneering at Abdul, Rachel said, "I told you not to bring her! I told you no!"
Since that Rachel was out of the woods, Abdul's compassion vanished instantly, and he spat at her feet. Outraged by his behavior, Ziva protested, and for her troubles, she received a slap to her cheek that had her seeing stars. It had been so fast, that even if she'd tried to stop it, she would have ended up on the floor.
"What the hell was that for?" Ziva demanded as Abdul straightened up and brushed imaginary dust off himself. "I have done nothing but cooperate since you took me, but can you not see that I am with child?"
"Of course I can, Ziva, but may that strike serve as a warning to not talk back or get any ideas about escaping!"
Ziva began to protest again, but Abdul and the other man left the room, locking the door tightly behind them.
When Ziva turned back to Rachel, she jumped when she saw her in tears.
Doing her best not to scare her, Ziva moved closer to her and spoke softly. "What is it, Rachel? How can I be of help?"
Rachel shook her head and kept crying. "I'm so sorry, Ziva. I'm so sorry."
Ziva had all the confidence in the world that someone at NCIS would have realized by now that she and Rachel were missing, and that Tony was injured, but when she heard Rachel begin to recite The Lord's Prayer in Hebrew, she began to wonder just how much trouble they'd gotten themselves into.