Gibbs listened for the two coming up the stairs. He might not have been a professional sniper for years, but his senses weren't a damn bit duller than they had been a decade ago. And those senses told him that neither Damon nor Ziva were leading the way – meaning they were walking side-by-side. And closely, he inferred from the way the sounds of their shoes on the carpet almost sounded as one noise.

Good. If Ziva settled down, the rest would follow. Or, rather Abby would blindside McGee and Tony would find some... woman. Someone special, someone who laughed and made him forget about Jeanne. Someone who would be difficult and make him chase after her.

And if he continued thinking like that, he'd start looking at bridal magazines and different types of veils and mother-in-laws...

And that was the point to just say no.

With a grin, he heard a slight pause, then the door opening. He looked up to see that they had disengaged themselves so that Ziva entered first, followed by the corporal, who closed the door behind them.

Vance nodded at Ziva, then pinned the much taller man with a solid stare that had made scores of people-young, old, big, small, soldier or politician alike- shift on their feet and lower their gazes. So either the boy was stupid, or he was sturdy enough himself to stand up against the director.

And Jethro definitely didn't think the kid was dumb.

"Damon Worth, ex-marine," Damon stated unflinchingly, but Ziva grinned briefly, obviously fighting the urge to laugh, and the corner of Worth's lips twitched up the slightest bit before he rigidly brought them under control again. Jethro had to hide his own smile. Apparently Ziva had told him one of the Gibbs Philosophies, this one being the lack of existence of an 'ex-marine.'

Vance didn't share this inside knowledge, but he didn't let the hidden joke bother him a it. "Dishonorably discharged for the very thing that made you a soldier in the first place."

"No, sir."

"No?" The director arched a brow and the toothpick moved to the other side of his mouth.

"Steroids don't make a marine, sir."

"Character does." A smile tugged the edges of Vance's mouth. Apparently he liked the kid, too. "Alright, Worth. Tell me what's been going on."

Ziva looked between him and Gibbs. "You mean you did not-"

"I mean, Miss David, that someone-" there was a pointed look in Gibbs's direction, "failed to mention the fact that one of my agents had been shot at. So why doesn't Mr. Worth explain to me just all of what has been going on."

Damon nodded, and explained everything that had happened since his mission under Colonel Bell, including his meeting with Ziva at that point. From then, he moved on to the details of the next encounter, minus the being knocked flat by Ziva swinging from a tree, of course. That had seemed awe-some then, but he doubted that the director of NCIS would agree with that. So he just continued, with Ziva adding in her translation for good measure. When it came time to tell if what happened in her apartment, however, Damon's voice chilled and became dangerously matter of fact, clipped.

Whoever had pulled the trigger was a dead man, because if Worth ever got his hands on the man behind the scope, there wouldn't be enough left of him for the authorities to bag and tag. Gibbs understood that deep, ice-cold rage. It was the type born of a helplessness and terror that collided against the warrior instinct so hard it left the man reeling, shaken inside. He'd known it once, and it had changed him forever. If Ziva hadn't made it, he suspected history would have repeated itself in the form of the young man before him.

"Well," Vance said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them, "it seems to me like you can't go back. Ziva's apartment - and yours, I have no doubt-" he nodded at Damon, "will be under watch. You'll have to get a new car for right now, and somewhere safe to stay. If someone found you that fast, it's someone with a lot of power behind them. Ziva's information is high stuff, not something an ordinary civilian would be able to get their hands on."

"You're thinking high up," Damon said.

Vance nodded. "And I'm thinking dirty."

Gibbs had a thought tugging the back of his mind, but he didn't voice it. He couldn't say it and risk having the marine in front of him go off and kill somebody when Gibbs wasn't completely sure yet, or even had proof. So he let the thought still and watched the scene before him.

"Okay..." Ziva thought over things. "La Grenouille was high up. And he was most definitely dirty."

"No motive." Vance was sure in his words. Perhaps he was on the same track Gibbs was.

"Okay. Jeanne has her father do it. She has the motive."

"Jeanne wouldn't get her hands dirty like that. She's no more a killer than Abby." Gibbs answered this time, and his gaze was unshakable.

Ziva sighed, but nodded. Not that Abby couldn't kill someone, she absolutely had the knowledge, but it just wasn't in her to take a life. She was the sort of person who would do anything to protect someone and save them. So if Gibbs said Jeanne couldn't do it by comparing her to Abby, she didn't do it.

"Then where does this lead us?" Ziva pushed a bit of fallen hair out of her eyes and sighed. Both of the older men noticed how Damon looked at her with worry. It wasn't obvious at all – in fact, he hid it very well, but the two men were the sort that noticed every detail, and one such as the look in the marine's eyes, no matter how brief or concealed, stood out to them like black on snow.

Vance turned to Gibbs slightly and raised an eyebrow. 'Is this really-' was the sort of look it sent.

In return, Gibbs just grinned quickly and shrugged, sipping his coffee.

"I think we should stop for today," Damon said firmly, looking down at Ziva with a worried, almost tender look.

Ziva balked, offended. "What? I am fine."

"You're drugged, tired and achy. And I don't know about you, but the day has definitely caught up with me. I need sleep, and. I'm not going to get any unless I know someone's not going to take a shot at us. Capiche?"

Ziva looked like her temper was starting to boil, so Gibbs stepped in – however much he wanted to see the fireworks about to happen. "Alright. I need to see Abby on a case we got this morning. Leon, you got a place for NCIS business?"

"Like a stash place? The sort that all agencies were told very firmly to discontinue having after the incident in LA with Ala A Din Keshwar?" Vance asked with a brow raised.

"Like a place no one else knows about that will be safe for them to camp out until we know for sure what's going on sort of place."

Ziva stirred at this. "No. In no way will I be 'stashed' somewhere while everyone tries to find out who is behind this. I saw the men, I can identify them. I can help."

Damon looked down at her again. As much as he wanted her somewhere safe, away from danger, he understood completely. "I'm in as well."

Vance looked at them both for a long minute, attempting to wear them down, but it didn't work. Both were stubborn and strong-willed, and matched his stares levelly.

"I'll be damned, Gibbs. We've got mutiny on our hands."

Gibbs laughed once. "No more so than you or I would have, Director. So do we charge them or let them help?"

"Given the circumstances, we need all the help we can get. I want whoever is behind this shut down and locked up before any more of my agents are targeted." His gaze was rock solid when he looked back at the two. The expression clearly stated no arguments. "You two will start with the investigation first thing tomorrow. Today and the rest of the night, you will go where I tell you, all electronic devices off and you will not leave the place until you come back tomorrow morning at 0700. Got it?"

The two nodded. Leon walked back to his desk and withdrew a Manila envelope, filled with a map with a location circled and keys.

"There's a woman who takes care of this place when requested to. Take the vehicle in the underground parking lot, level 3, spot 385. Don't stop unless for lights, don't get caught. Stay low, and Miss David?"

Ziva looked up at him from her examination of the map. "Yes, Director?"

"No more heroics. I will not lose a good agent to a case of hero syndrome. Do we have an understanding?"

Ziva smiled a little, just with her eyes. "Yes, Director."

Vance handed the envelope to Damon. "Then you'd better get going."

When the two had left, Gibbs turned to the director and held a steady blue gaze with the man.

"You're thinking exactly what I'm thinking," he said without preamble.

"And just what exactly is that, Special Agent Gibbs?"

"That we pissed someone off, and they're getting back."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Gibbs. And if I did, I don't have the proof yet to back up such a statement." The director said this with an inclination of his head, an obvious statement.

"Hint taken, Director." He stood from his lean against the table and strode towards the door. "But Leon," he said, turning just as he reached the handle, "if I'm right, it's high up, and there are more people involved than just our key suspect. It's going to have to be fast and solid. Maybe even off the record, if need be to keep her safe."

Vance nodded, leaning back in his chair now. "She know too much now?"

Gibbs nodded. "Absolutely. And they're both smart. Once they get past the initial shock, they'll figure it out. And when they do, you know how Worth will react."

Vance nodded. "Then we'll just have to make sure he's preoccupied, won't we?" He grinned, causing one in return from Jethro.

Like any help was needed to keep the marine occupied. All it took at the moment was a pair of chocolate whiskey eyes.