Making good time, Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky entered the clearing where a tall, dark-haired man was waiting, reclining against his pack, apparently napping.
"Eitan," called Ziva. The man in question stood up and stretched, making his six foot frame look even taller.
"Ziva," he said with a smile, bowing slightly. "At niret tov, karagil." You look good, as usual.
"Toda," she replied, kissing him on both cheeks. She motioned toward the two men with her. "This is Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Doctor Ducky Mallard."
Eitan extended his hand. "I've heard about you two," he said with an easy smile. "It's a pleasure to finally match the faces to the stories."
Gibbs eyed the other man speculatively as he shook his hand. There was something familiar about the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Ziva seems to have kept you a secret," said Ducky, jovially. "Our young friend is a woman of mystery."
Ziva laughed. "It's not a secret, Ducky," she said, "just not something I talk about."
"Hmmmm." Ducky looked amused.
"How far are we from the camp?" Gibbs asked.
"Ahhh, straight to business," Eitan said, laughing, "I like that. We're about three kilometers north. They've settled down for the night."
"How can you tell?"
Eitan shrugged. "They're sitting around drinking and eating, playing cards, and amusing themselves in other ways."
Gibbs didn't like the sound of that. "Is DiNozzo still alive?"
"Yes," the other man said, nodding. "I'm afraid he's in pretty bad shape. He must have been shot in the initial attack. It appeared as if they were removing a bullet or some other object from his shoulder. It sounded quite painful."
"Oh dear," Ducky said softly. "I'm afraid my services will be needed, after all."
"Can you show us the layout of their camp?" Gibbs asked.
"Of course." Eitan bent down and began drawing in the dirt.
"There are two crude shelters, here and here. I'm assuming that's where they store their ammunition and other items. The men are scattered around in the open, here, here and here." Eitan sketched x's and boxes in the appropriate places. "Your man is here, not quite in the middle of the camp, but not somewhere where we can sneak in and grab him without being seen."
"I must tell you," continued the Mossad agent, his expression grave, "I've been watching your agent as closely as possible. He looks very ill. It's quite possible he could have died while I was waiting for you to arrive."
"He's not dead," Gibbs replied firmly. "I'd know if he was."
Eitan looked at Ziva, who shrugged and smiled at her friend. "You'll have to trust Gibbs' gut. It's never wrong."
Accepting her answer, Eitan flashed Gibbs a cocky grin. "Do you have a plan for this daring rescue?"
At that moment a loud thunderclap startled the four people, a few large drops of rain came down, striking Ziva in the forehead.
"Keep the weapons dry," yelled Gibbs, as he pulled out a tarp from his pack. Following his lead, the others pulled out tarps and fashioned two makeshift shelters, Ziva and Gibbs in one, Eitan and Ducky in the other.
Gibbs and Ziva sat in silence, waiting for the rain to stop.
"How close a friend is this Singer guy?" asked Gibbs.
"Close enough," replied Ziva. "I trust him."
"Hmmm." Gibbs nodded. "You go on any missions with him?"
"A few."
They were silent for a moment.
"Are you worried?" Ziva's voice was so soft Gibbs could barely hear it over the sound of the pouring rain.
"About what, exactly?" he replied. "About whether or not Tony is still alive? Will we be able to get him out of there? If we can get him out of there, will we be able to get him serious medical attention?"
"All of that," she said.
"Yes," Gibbs said, curtly. The two sat and watched the rain for a few minutes longer.
"Were you happy in Mexico?"
Gibbs sighed. "I wasn't looking for 'happiness'," he said. "I just needed to get away, to sort things out. To mourn... again."
Ziva nodded. "It must have been hard, having to relive the deaths of your wife and daughter."
"The pain never really went away," Gibbs said softly. "I buried it, hid it away, but it was always there. Waking up and thinking it had just happened..." his voice trailed off.
"Have you remembered more of your life?" Ziva asked.
Gibbs nodded. "I also remembered why I do what I do, why I'm... why I was a Special Agent."
"You want to come back, don't you?"
Gibbs ran his hand over his face. "What I want, is to get Tony's ass out of that place and get him home safe."
"He won't mind being your senior field agent again, Gibbs," Ziva said. "He misses you, we all miss you."
Gibbs shook his head. "Tony deserves to lead the team. He is good, isn't he?"
Ziva nodded. "Very good. He's like you, but not like you at the same time." She flailed her hands in frustration. "I'm not saying this right, I know. You can tell he learned from the best, but he brings his own special twist to things."
Ziva laughed softly. "It's funny. I feel more at home at NCIS than I do with my own people at Mossad."
"It's that Italian charm," Gibbs said dryly.
Ziva snorted. "It must be."
"Did you sleep with Singer?" Gibbs asked abruptly.
"What? Gibbs!" exclaimed Ziva indignantly. "That's none of your business... what if I did?"
Gibbs snapped his fingers. "I got it! He reminds me of Tony. Something about him, the way he carries himself, the way he acts."
Ziva looked thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, there is some similarity. But there's a major difference."
"What's that?"
"Eitan is a player. He has women all over the world and he loves all of them very much, when he's with them. Tony talks big, he dates a lot, but deep down he's looking for someone special, someone he can settle down with. Remember how disappointed he was when he found out Monica was married? He thought she could be 'the one'. Eitan will never stay with one woman, in one place."
Gibbs agreed, "Yeah, Tony likes to put on a good show, but it's all smoke and mirrors." The two sat in companionable silence as the rain started to ease up. When it finally stopped, the four regrouped to plan the rescue.
"Singer," said Gibbs, "do you know how to shoot a grenade launcher?"
