Here is chapter 4. A big thank you to surferdude who beta-read this one. I also want to thank all of those who took the time out to review the previous chapter. Thanks. The more I get the better it feels. So keep them coming.
Chapter 4
On speaking terms again?
During that day, Callen and Sam escorted Ziva to the Jewish community again and they were accompanied by the sketch artist. Sam and Callen had a few hours to spare before picking up Ziva and the sketch artist again, so they went for a coffee in a nearby coffee shop.
'What did she say to you this morning?' Sam asked G. as they sat down with their coffee.
'She wants to talk,' Callen told him.
'Right, you want me to check in on you after a few hours just to make sure you're still breathing,' Sam joked.
Callen laughed. 'Sam, if she wanted me dead, I would have been a long time ago. She was one of the best in Metsada. Do you know she even had a nickname?'
'Nope, what was it?' Sam asked.
'Ghost.'
'Ghost?'
Callen nodded. 'She left no traces behind. It was as if she had never been there. The targets died without a trace, except when a statement had to be made, but even then she made sure there was never anything that could be traced back to her directly or to one of her undercover identities. Usually Metsada operatives would last three to four years, or if they were really good, five years. But in the end, they all would make a mistake that would cost them their lives. She was one off a very few that never did.'
Sam was impressed.
Callen's phone vibrated. Ziva was calling. She and the sketch artist were ready to be picked up.
'She called you,' said Sam with a smile on his face, 'on your private number.'
'She still has her ways,' Callen said, smiling.
'I'm impressed,' Sam said, approvingly.
Ziva and the artist were waiting nearby and got in the car very quickly. Something was up.
'What's wrong?' Callen asked.
'Nothing…' Ziva paused. 'I might have said something to a certain person which might be considered somewhat of an threat,' she confessed.
'What did you do?' Callen demanded.
'Nothing, really, I didn't. I just took a gamble and it may or may not work.' Ziva shrugged her shoulders.
'Zee, you didn't…'
'Don't you 'Zee' me.' She glared at Callen. She was back on speaking terms with him, but he knew not to push it when she glared at him like that, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Ziva's phone rang and a voice who spoke in a clearly very angry voice began ranting to her in Hebrew. It took a few minutes, but then Ziva closed her phone and sighed before a big smile erupted on her face.
'Turn around. We are going back to pick up some security footage,' she said.
Callen and Sam looked at her through the rearview mirror.
'A large Jewish community like this does not go without some kind of security. I merely suggested that it was in their best interest to hand over any footage they might have,' she explained to the men. She just didn't mention she used some old Mossad tricks to obtain the footage.
They arrived back at the synagogue and a rabbi was waiting for them near the entrance. He handed over some USB sticks and gave Ziva a look that could be described as icy. They exchanged some very polite conversation and Ziva headed back to the car where Sam and Callen were waiting for her.
When they got back to the office, it turned out to be the break in the case that they needed.
Since they were not getting any answers from Ziva as to how and why she had gotten the footage, the team went to the only other person that had been present during the entire time. According to the sketch artist, it was like watching a chess game unfold in front of her eyes. Even thought the artist didn't know a word of Hebrew, she knew that Ziva had been very slowly but very persistently been backing the Rabbi into a corner until he had caved and promised them the footage.
It was late in the afternoon when Ziva asked Callen to bring her back to the hotel. They silently sat in the car during the ride and when he dropped her off at her hotel, she turned to look at him.
'When are you going to be here?' she asked him in Hebrew.
'I'll go home, get changed and I could be back within the hour,' G. offered in English.
'How about eight o'clock instead? I will order room service and we can talk,' Ziva said in Hebrew again, knowing her ex could still understand every word.
'Sure, eight it is then.' Callen felt like a teenager who was about to go to the prom. Not that he ever had been to one, but he was sure that this is what it felt like. Even after all that had happened, she still could make him feel week at the knees. It only took one look.
Ziva touched his cheek. 'Zach looked a lot like you.' And with those words, she left the car.
Callen was nervous. He hadn't gone to his home, but went back to the office instead.
'You're nervous, Mister Callen?' Hetty asked, startling him. G. hadn't known she was still in the building. Hetty stood a few feet away. 'Yeah, I'll be meeting Ziva in an hour or so. We're going to talk.'
'I see…is that what you'll be wearing?' she asked him.
Callen looked at his outfit. 'What's wrong with it?' he wondered. He was wearing his normal outfit and didn't see anything wrong with it.
'Nothing, but I think the mother of your child deserves something more than you wearing your work clothes when she is having dinner with you,' Hetty said.
When Callen came out of the dressing room, Kensi and Hetty were waiting to judge him.
Kensi made an approving noise and Hetty just nodded in total approval. He was wearing a black ensemble. Nothing too fancy, but it suited him nicely.
'This is weird. I am not about to go out with her, we're just going to talk and if I don't make any stupid mistake, I just might get of there alive,' he told the women.
'Yes, we know,' said Kensi. 'But trust me; we women appreciate it when a man makes some kind of effort to at least look descent. You'll score points with her even before,' she made a gesture with her fingers, 'the talk.'
Callen looked at Hetty for assistance, but Hetty would have none of it.
'Miss Blye is right,' she told him.
Callen was on his to the hotel when he realized that he didn't even know what room Ziva was in. He checked with the reception desk and then he was on his way up. He took a deep breath in front of her room and knocked.
TBC…
AN: Come on, just a little review won't hurt you. So push that button and write some words down, those words will make sentence and that sentence will make up a review. (if you put them in the right order.
