Resolved: I, AnaEvely, do solemnly swear that I will update this story, and any others that I write, in one-week intervals on the weekends.

Okay, so there's one more chapter after this, and then I'll have another story up soon...and I'll really update it regularly! Please review! Enjoy:-)

Chapter Sixteen: Thwarted

The wheelchair having finally become an absolute necessity, Woody wheeled Jordan into the NCIS headquarters where they were met by Ziva. The reunion was pleasant, but brief. Instead of taking the two into the bullpen, Ziva led them up to the conference room.

The table was too tall for Jordan to stay in the wheelchair, so Woody helped her into a seat while Ziva got coffee for them. Sitting in the chair where the only injury still visible was a broken arm made Jordan feel almost normal. The coffee was hot and dark, just the way she liked it. Jordan thought that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Gibbs and Tony entered soon after, and the three agents took seats on the opposite side of the table. Always the workaholic, Gibbs got right to the point.

"You said that you remembered more about what the terrorists were planning," he said, directing his gaze at Jordan.

Not quite sure where to begin, Jordan swallowed. "Yeah," she said. "I…I'm not sure that it means anything, though."

"At this point, anything will be helpful," Tony offered. "The terrorists aren't giving up anything…they won't even admit that they had the wrong person."

Woody started to say something, but Jordan stopped him with a hand on his leg. "It's okay," she said to him softly.

Turning back to Gibbs, she began. "It was towards the end…they were speaking in English, which was unusual…most of the time they used Arabic. The taller one…the leader…he said something about being reactive and proactive at the same time." Jordan closed her eyes and tried to focus her memories. "He said that even if they didn't get the information they wanted from me, that the bigger mission could still succeed."

"What was that mission?" Gibbs asked, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt.

Jordan was silent, trying to remember more from her dream. "Something about…about things happening in both Israel and the United States…something with leadership?" she paused. "The leadership in Mossad and…someone in the US who is working with Mossad to stop Hamas. Does any of this make sense?" Jordan looked up at them, feeling like she wasn't being any help at all.

Ziva came through. "Some of it does," she answered. "Hamas was planning an attack on the Mossad leadership—my father is the Deputy Director, that's one reason why they wanted me—but we've taken care of that threat already."

"Mossad was working on a similar operation to take out the Hamas leadership—the other reason they wanted to get to Ziva. But that's also dead in the water," Gibbs added. "Do you remember anything else about the American target?"

Jordan felt her eyes sting. She had left her home—her hideaway—and come all the way to DC to be told that her experience was worthless. She looked away. "There's nothing else…the rest of the time they were speaking in Arabic. I didn't understand them."

Woody squeezed her hand under the table, but it didn't alleviate Jordan's despair. She sighed. "Maybe if you check the video that they sent you, Ziva could translate."

"We've done that already—there's nothing there." This time Gibbs made no attempts to hide his irritation.

"There wasn't much talking on the videos," Tony said. "Only the…physical parts."

Puzzled, Jordan looked up. "But they talked all the time," she said softly. "And the camera was on as long as they were in the room…they were going to kill me anyway, there was no reason for them not to talk about Hamas's plans."

"We checked both the feed that they sent to us and the camera's memory itself…there was nothing," Ziva said.

"But there has to be!" Jordan cried, frustrated.

Tony turned to Gibbs. "What if they erased everything after they sent the videos to us? Could we get the stuff back?"

Gibbs looked back at Tony. "Abby would know."

Nearly three hours later, the team was sitting in the bullpen watching the newly-recovered video feeds that Abby and McGee had coaxed from the video camera. As she took in what the terrorists were saying, Ziva's eyes got bigger and bigger. "This is huge, Gibbs," she kept saying.

Jordan felt like she was releasing a breath that she'd been holding since arriving in DC. It hadn't been worthless…what she went through would save at least one person's life.

Ziva's subsequent explanation of the videos was sobering. The American operative Hamas targeted was none other than the head of the CIA…and there was much, much more planned. It seemed that Hamas had figured out how to take out half of Israel's capital in one day with several meticulously designed attacks.

The end of the whole ordeal was rather anti-climactic. Gibbs only had to make a phone call to Mossad in Israel, and they handled the rest. Jordan and Woody learned about the dramatic take-down by watching the national news in their hotel rooms.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Jordan slept all the way through the night.