Chapter 2

A/N: yay! I really like this story. It's amazing, but I had to get the ol' converter out to figure how many kilometres in a mile. It's 1.5! My dear father (hi daddy!) recommended the name Armitage Shanks, that's why it's such a retarded name…Mela is apple :)

This morning the Marine in me came out. My alarm went off at 5.30 and I swung my legs out of bed. Slipping on a pair of black sweatpants and my USMC t-shirt I set off for a run. I don't know why, but during my run I got a horrible feeling. So gut wrenching that I had to stop. It pulled my stomach away from where it was supposed to be and let it ping back into place.

I decided to ignore it. It'd go away after a while. I had run 5 miles, the usual distance in my books. Another mile and then I'd head home. 3 miles was what we used to run at boot camp. That was when I first started, 6 years ago. 6 years seemed like so long ago now. This rookie boot standing to attention in front of a drill sergeant, then 3 years later in Iraq as one of the first soldiers to enter the country.

Iraq was all pretty much a blur now. Setting up camp, the occasional car bomb being set off to try and drive us out of the country. I remember the first Iraqi I ever shot. He was young, not much older than I was at the time. He tried to shoot me as I walked from one of our tents to the portable bathroom we had set up. Got me square in the arm and I shot back with such skill that he dropped dead the second the bullet pierced his skin.

It wasn't so much the shock that I had been shot, but the shock that I had shot someone. That night from the medical tent I had called Tony. He offered to come and bring me home but I said it was my duty to serve the country. And I stayed. I healed eventually and got out in the field again.

I arrived back at my small apartment and stepped into the shower. Water trickled down my back, turning hot and cold from the crappy heating system downstairs. I fingered the scar on my left arm. It still hurt occasionally, whenever I received a sharp bump or knock to it.

I automatically put fresh clothing on and blow dried my hair. Getting in the car, I vacantly shoved the key in the ignition and drove to NCIS. First in the office as usual beating even Gibbs. A few minutes later he entered the bullpen, carrying coffee and case files. "Good morning sir" I piped up and his head shot around to look at me. "Good morning Sergeant DiNozzo, only a dedicated marine like you is early every morning" he said with a hollow voice and placed his effects on the desk.

He sat down and after a few minutes of silence, "have you ever thought of becoming a drill sergeant at one of the boot camps? I heard a few days ago that they're looking for a new drill sergeant" Gibbs asked and I nodded, "they offered me the job but I turned it down to come here. I thought investing the deaths of marines was better than training them to go out there and get killed"

He went silent again and I realized I didn't like this side of Gibbs. I preferred higher ranking officers to bark harsh comments in my face, letting me take it on the full. I had become so used to the marine lifestyle that it took over my mind and swallowed me whole. I actually liked people telling me what they thought of me, good or bad. I don't know if anyone else liked their life to be run by the book 24/7, but I certainly did.

I longed for a carefree life like my siblings when I was little, then I got into the marines. I realized that having structure was good for me. When my mother told me that I was supposed to go out there and enjoy life, I didn't agree. My father supported me; anything I did was good enough for him.

I was shaken out of my trance by Tony plopping himself on my desk, "you all right there? You're getting that glassy-eyed look again. Kind of like the one you had on at Uncle Antonio's funeral" I looked up at him, "ah, Zio Antonio. God, that was a boring service." We both laughed at the memory of my sister Bella being the only one in the church crying.

Gibbs came downstairs from the Director's office and threw us all a file, "Lieutenant Major Amber Mills, moved into combat a month ago. Her husband and teenage daughter are currently been held hostage in their own home by a marine who wants them dead. We don't know why, but if we don't get them out soon they may die" he stood up and picked up his coat, "he wants a female marine to negotiate letting them go"

Everyone looked at me, it didn't bother me though. "I've been in hostage situations before, and managed not to get myself murdered. If I just stick to my guns and follow whatever they say, I should be okay" I reassured them. Tony had one of those pleading looks on his face. I'm not really sure what it was for, but it warmed me to know he actually took notice of what I was saying to the rest of the team.

Ziva (I had recently acquired her name through Tony) placed her hand on my shoulder, "you fought in Iraq, yes?" she asked and I nodded, "I was on duty out there for a few years" she smiled, 'you'll do fine here. Most of the agents here have never actually had marine experience. You're the first marine apart from Gibbs that had been on this team. I am a Mossad agent; I know what hostage situations are like"

She gave my shoulder a small awkward pat and returned to get her stuff. Tony smiled at me softly for a second, and then continued to strap his weapons to himself. I did the same. I handled my gun; it felt comforting and soothing in my hand. I shoved it in its holder and made my way out with the rest of the group.

Tony and I sat in the car in silence. I watched the trees go by for a while, until he coughed loudly to get my attention. I turned toward him. "Mela" he used my childhood nickname, "promise me you'll try not to get yourself killed?" Tony said as he turned the corner and I laughed, "You don't have to mother me like this. I'm a big girl now" it was Tony's turn to sigh as we turned into the street and parked behind one of the SWAT vans.

Gibbs and Ziva were already there, setting up equipment to see and hear what was going on inside. I strapped the bulletproof vest around me and covered it with my coat. Just like old times. I moved towards Gibbs, "Sir, I think we should move the SWAT teams away from the door" I suggested and he gave me a glare, "why the hell would we do that, marine?" he asked.

I gave up. I didn't want to fight with him. I moved toward the door and knocked on it several times. "Who is it?" a gruff voice shouted out and I cleared my throat, "Sergeant Esther DiNozzo reporting to negotiate the release of several hostages" I replied loudly and the door opened a crack, "well, well, well Essie, long time no see"

A/N: cliffhanger! Woot! Stay tuned for the next chapter.