Wow! Thank you to everyone for the continued positive feedback! I really appreciate everyone who reviewed for taking the time to do so. I'm having quite a bit of fun writing this, and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading. The next chapter should be posted sometime between Christmas and New Year's.
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The sudden jarring had Tony reaching for his sidearm. He sat up straighter, blinking several times before focusing on Gibbs who just stared at his senior field agent. Tony ran his hands down the length of his face, pausing at his eyes to rub the sleep and disturbing images from them. An uneasy feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't place his finger on its origins.
The military transport taxied to a nearby hanger as the team gathered their belongings. As the plane rolled to a stop, a member of the crew addressed Gibbs. "Welcome to Ramstein. The chopper is fueled and ready for you over there sir," the young soldier stated, pointing.
Gibbs nodded in response, and the team exited the transport down the back ramp. "Boss? I could really use a bathroom break before we continue," McGee suggested in an uncertain voice as they crossed in front of the hanger. It was now 0530 local time. After a ten hour flight from D.C. to Ramstein, with a refuel stop in Dublin, McGee was regretting his decision to stay well hydrated.
They were only about an hour or so away from Berlin, and Gibbs wanted to push on. However, when he turned and scrutinized his two agents, he relented. "Be on that chopper in five," he ordered, and turned to continue toward the awaiting chopper and load his gear. McGee ran for the hanger, while Tony followed Gibbs. "Tony. Go with McGee. Splash some water on your face. Be prepared for whatever's coming next."
"I'm good, Boss," Tony replied with as much conviction as he could muster.
"You called out her name twice, DiNozzo. Go. Clear your head," Gibbs ordered as he turned and stared at Tony.
Tony eyed Gibbs, then dropped his gear, and jogged to the hanger. McGee was just ripping off a piece of paper towel from the roll resting on the back of the toilet, when he heard the knock. "Be right out," he called.
"Hurry up, McBladderBuster. Take off in four," Tony finished as the door opened.
The two traded places. Tony splashed water on his face as he finished washing his hands in the white porcelain sink. Water continued to drip after he pushed the lever back to the left. Looking in the chipped mirror, he watched a man with disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes, and the shadow of stubble on his face stare back. No wonder Gibbs sent him in here. Sighing and turning, he exited the bathroom to find McGee waiting. "You good, Tony?"
"Just a little jetlag, Tim. That's all," Tony joked in avoidance.
Not willing to glance at Tony as they walked, leaves crunching beneath their steps. McGee nervously offered, "You know, you called her name…"
Tony broke stride, but stared straight ahead. "Yeah, Tim. I know. Gibbs already told me." He turned and looked at McGee. "I'm fine."
The two continued toward the chopper. "Boy, that's like a page from Ziva's playbook."
"I'm. Fine," Tony enunciated each word.
"Ok," McGee finished, deciding to let the rest go for now.
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Viktor drove at a maddening rate. He had been driving since just after midnight and needed to be at the safehouse by seven in the morning, as per his instructions. Not following through might lead to catastrophic repercussions. Glancing at the GPS, the estimate suggested that he had about forty minutes until he reached his programmed destination.
Picking up the phone from the passenger seat, he dialed the preprogrammed number. "You had better have something for me Viktor."
"Ye... yes sir," Rhinmakov stammered. He relayed the necessary information to Mishnev. "The GPS puts time of arrival around noon."
"We are three hours out. We will arrive before she does and wait. You better be correct, Viktor. A lot hangs in the balance," Mishnev threaten ominously before the call ended.
Rhinmakov was not a man who practiced his religion regularly. However, he was hopeful that God would overlook his lack of faithfulness to answer the prayer that he proffered now. Asking for the safety of his family and the reassurance that he made the right choice, he pushed the gas pedal down further, lurching the car forward even faster.
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Sleep had eluded her, whether it was from the constant pain in her abdomen, or whether it was from the constant vigil she felt was necessary, Ziva wasn't sure of the source of her unease. The only rest she had managed during her stop was the hour she spent in the bath, the cold water eventually rousing her back to consciousness. After dressing, she called some of her former contacts, making arrangements and plans. Then, she had approached Rhinmakov just after midnight, handing him a letter she had written. Before leaving the motel, she had scrawled a second note, slipped it in an addressed envelope, and secured it in her coat pocket.
As she had closed the motel door behind her earlier, she had taken in the beautiful orange, pink, and purple sunrise beginning to grace the morning sky. At the time, she couldn't prevent her mind from wondering how many more she would see. Enough, she had scolded. Climbing into her car, she had pulled her seatbelt across, wincing as pain continued to shoot through her midsection. She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds, breathing deeply. She knew there was internal damage from the few dizzy spells she had experienced while at the motel. If she had to guess, she would say that her diaphragm sustained some kind of injury, given the trouble she had catching her breath and the occasional sharp pain in her chest. Turning the keys in the ignition, she was determined though to see this through.
Now, after about an hour and a half on the road, she pulled up to a small grocer outside the town of Eisenach to mail the letter that remained. She began to have second thoughts about her plan.
As she exited the small store, her phone rang, startling her. Reminding herself it was necessary to stick to the plan in order to ensure her family's safety, she steeled herself. "Tony?"
"Hey, sweetcheeks," relief flooded his voice. He cradled his phone between his shoulder and ear as he loaded equipment into the trunk of the car that awaited them at the discreet airfield south of Berlin. "How are you doing? Is it safe to talk?"
"Tony," she repeated. "I have been thinking about you," she allowed herself, leaning back against her car door. Then, "Yes, it is safe to talk. I took a secure phone from the safehouse in France."
"Yeah. McPrepared had me grab some secure sat phones before we left. So, how are you?" concern still evident.
Ziva pondered how to answer. Should she be truthful or supply her standard response. Knowing she would appreciate the truth if the roles were reversed, she answered, "I have been better. I believe I am in need of some additional medical assistance when this is all over," Ziva finished as lightly as she could.
"Ziva, please. If you need medical attention, go to the nearest hospital right now. We can meet you there," Tony pleaded.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Ziva held firm. "No, Tony. This ends today. I will not allow my family to fall victim any longer to someone who is after me."
"Zee-vah…" the warning in his voice obvious as he straightened.
"Tony, don't. Remember the safehouse we stayed in after apprehending Yaniv?"
A sigh escaped his lips. "Yes."
"Take the team there. Rhinmakov contacted Mishnev. Everything is set. I'll fill you in on the rest later. Be safe, Tony." As she pressed end, Ziva reminded her conscious that everything she told Tony was at least a shade of the truth. She reminded her conscious she was doing all of this to protect the ones she loved. She reminded her conscious that if everything worked out as planned, she would be with Tony soon, as long as he could forgive her.
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Tony stared at the phone. The time, 6:26, stared back. "DiNozzo!" Tony's eyes snapped up to meet Gibb's questioning ones. "What did she say?"
"She just hung up on me, Boss," Tony whined in disbelief.
Gibbs offered a rare smirk, while McGee replied, "Yeah, well, Tony. I always thought Ziva was a pretty smart woman."
After Tony was done glaring at McGee, he relayed Ziva's directions. "Something's off. She was too vague."
"We don't have any other options right now, DiNozzo. We go to the safehouse, and we wait," Gibbs said as he finished loading the last of the equipment.
The three men piled into the car, concern etching each of their features. Barring any glitches, they should arrive at the safehouse within an hour.
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As Gibbs pulled up to the designated house, the first thing all of the agents noticed was the black sedan. "Ziva," Tony breathed.
However, their training taught them never to assume. They approached the house with caution, watching for any signs of danger. Entering through the unlocked door, they drew their weapons. Something was off. Ziva would not allow easy access to a safehouse. Working their way through the small ranch-style house, clearing room by room, they approached the kitchen in the back. They halted, listening to a glass clink, the faucet being turned on then off, and someone's steps. Gibbs was able to catch a glimpse of a man. He caught Tony's and McGee's eyes and gave a one-two-three signal with his fingers. On three, they entered the kitchen with force. "Stay where you are!" Gibbs shouted.
"Who are you? Where is Ziva?" Tony fired off.
The glass shattered on the floor as the man flung his hands in the air. "Please don't shoot! I was instructed to come here!" he defended.
Tony lurched for the man, spinning and pinning him against the wall with his forearm at the back of his neck. Frustration seethed from him. "I'll ask again. Who are you, and where is Ziva?"
In a quavering voice, he mumbled, "I am Viktor Rhinmakov. Ziva sent me here. I don't know where she is at, but she instructed me to give a letter to an Agent Gibbs when you arrived."
Gibbs holstered his gun while McGee kept his sights trained. Tony spun Rhinmakov back around. Gibbs searched him for weapons, then reached for his inside jacket pocket. He located the letter and ripped it open. "Cuff him," Gibbs ordered Tony as he began to read.
Dear Gibbs,
My family is so important to me, that I must do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I am sorry if you feel betrayed, but please know I did it out of love. If anything were to ever happen to any of you because of me, I would not be able to forgive myself.
I sent Rhinmakov to the Berlin location to help reunite him with his family who was being held by Mishnev's associates. I contacted Orli this past evening and requested she pull a few ropes to make sure they were safe, and requested that Malachi lead the extraction team. They should arrive sometime this morning. Please do not hold his misguided choices against him – he was merely doing whatever he felt necessary to protect his family. I understand his motivations, as I am doing the same.
Please, do not worry about me. I will meet up with you in Berlin sometime this afternoon, after I know we are all safe.
Pass my love on to Tony and McGee.
Sorry Gibbs.
Love,
Ziva
Tony grabbed at the counter for the discarded letter as Gibbs slammed Rhinmakov against the refrigerator. "Where is she?" he shouted.
After Tony finished scanning the letter, he pulled his gun again, aiming for Rhinmakov's head. "I suggest you answer the man's question."
"I… I… I… don't know. I swear! She gave me the location of this house and a key and told me to be here by 7:00. She said I should come in contact with some American agents, give them that letter, and that my family would meet me here." He was now gasping for breath.
"McGee!" Gibbs barked. "Get your computers set up. Run every trace on every number we have related to Ziva. Find her. I don't care what international laws you have to break, you hear me?"
"Got…" A loud knock came from somewhere in one of the cleared rooms. All three men drew their weapons as they turned. Gibbs pushed Rhinmakov to the floor, threatening, "Quiet!" as he proceeded to the next room.
Another knock came from underneath the wooden floor. Gibbs gently pulled the area rug away that covered the location of the noise, revealing a square access panel. It slowly opened, and the three men found themselves aiming at Mossad Officer Ben-Gidon. "Agent Gibbs," he called calmly. "We meet again."