Chapter 2 – Tali – May 2017

She had to admit that the rat-infested remains of the bombed out safe house were a step up from her usual accommodations when she needed to stop to sleep for a long period of time. She'd spent nights in animals' shelters in the fields and mountains, in garbage dumpsters that were abandoned, under a rotted boat hull, and even in a cave on occasion. Here there was a bed, an actual bed, and after some searching in what remained of the closet in the room, she had located a sheet that once was clean. Now it was at least a covering over the surface of the old mattress between her and whatever animal droppings had soaked through to the side that had been downward facing.

She lay her backpack on the sheet to use as a pillow. Soon she would be starting a job at the garment factory that served as a front for Sahar's organization, hoping to gain some insight into her nemesis. Adam had made a drop informing her that the factory manager was seeking Arab women to work low-wage jobs assembling basic clothing for other Arab women. Ziva planned to show up looking for work in the next day or two. First, she needed some sleep, or she would drop in place.

'Achot.' The voice sounded so familiar. 'Ziva. My sister.'

'Tali?' Ziva looked around for her sister; the voice seemed to surround the room and try as she might, Ziva could not find her younger sister in the darkened room. 'How are you here?'

'I am in your mind and in your heart, Ziva. I am always with you.'

Ziva sat up and peered into the darkness, 'Why are you here?'

Tali laughed, 'You seem to ask that question often, Ziva…'

'I do not… I did... I…' Ziva's mind filled with the times she had voiced those very words, each one a painful memory. 'I have too much pain with those words, Tali. I regret that I have said them too many times to the one person who should have never heard them…'

She hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on the old mattress staring into the darkness. 'In Somalia, he rescued me from the monster… When he found me in Israel after I fled from who I had become… When he found me in Cairo last year… each time I asked him why he was there and each time his love scared me. How could he love me when I kept pushing him away? When I keep hurting him? How do I deserve that love?'

Ziva noticed a movement in the corner of the room as she heard her sister speak again.

'His love is true, Ziva. He will never stop loving you. And that love has given you hope, and your Tali. Is she not the reason you are on this final mission? To protect the child of your love for one another. To protect the family that you chose?'

Ziva rocked herself on the bed, her mind whirling with thoughts of her baby and of the man whose love saved her from herself so many times she'd lost count. 'Ken. I would protect them at any cost. Including my own life if that is what is necessary to keep them safe.'

She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from falling; she felt arms around her shoulders and a warmth as though someone was holding her tightly. The feeling of comfort it brought to her allowed her to let her guard down and sob freely.

'I am weak, Tali. I cannot…' she tried to speak through the sobs that wracked her body. She could taste the saltiness of her tears as they rolled over her face. 'I have failed as a mother and as a partner…' Fresh tears cascaded over her cheeks as she wiped her running nose with a corner of the sheet.

'No Ziva; you have not failed. You have protected your daughter from harm, and she is safe with her father, yes? The love that you carry for them will be your greatest asset in bringing an end to the threat that is over you. Their love will be your final reward when you are a family; a true family… and perhaps you will get your little boy.' Tali's voice seemed to drift away as she spoke; Ziva strained to hear her words. 'I will have a girl and a boy…'

Ziva smiled into the dark as an image of a mini-Tony flashed in her mind. Her son, his son, their son, with his big sister, playing on the beaches of Haifa or exploring on a family adventure. Perhaps that would be so in the future, perhaps not. In the here and now, she had a mental image of Tali from last August in Cairo. Surely the child had grown since then and changed; she was now almost three years old. As she lay back on the dilapidated mattress to try to sleep, she promised herself that she would find a way to get to Paris before the end of the year and see her loves from afar.

'You are stronger than you know, achot. Believe that you will hold them again…'

Ziva fell asleep clutching her backpack with the images of her two reasons for fighting the threat of Sahar in her mind; her Tali and her Tony would be her forever reason for fighting for her family. When she awoke, the sun was just peeking over the horizon; she had the feeling that she had slept an entire day, but if that was what she had needed, so be it. Time to gather her things together and find appropriate clothing to pose as an Arab woman in search of a job in a garment factory.