Here you go all. I was able to get this done earlier than I anticipated. Enjoy... and please review.

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Tony stalked up to Rhinmakov and his family at the kitchen table. He hooked his arm under Rhinmakov's and essentially lifted him from his chair, with a gruff, "We need to talk."

"Wait. My family…" Rhinmakov started, glancing back nervously at his wife and daughter who each reached out a protesting hand.

"…Will be right here when we're done." Tony tried to reassure with as much patience as he could. He led Rhinmakov to the living area, high pitched Russian objections pursuing them, quieting as they rounded corners. Gibbs, McGee, and Malachi waited, seated in a semi-circle around a rectangular coffee table. Tony deposited him in the chair at the foot of the table and took up residence on the couch cushion directly to Rhinmakov's right. Four sets of eyes focused on him.

Gibbs took point, asking, "What were all of Ziva's instructions to you?"

"I… She…" he stammered, then propped his elbows on his knees and placed his face in his cupped hands. Resigned, he looked up. "I'm not supposed to tell you the rest. She did not want you to interfere. And she said if I did not follow her instructions, I, my family, would face consequences."

Gibbs leaned forward and pressed gruffly. "We need to know where she is, or we are going to impose consequences on you and your family. You are in no position to withhold information right now."

Tony listened to the building confrontation and decided to try a different approach. "Listen. She is important to us. To… me. Just as important to us as those two girls in the kitchen are to you. We want to do everything possible to make sure she is safe. Please. Tell us the rest."

Rhinmakov pondered Tony's words as he stared at the table that served as a centerpiece for the gathered men. The only sound was the tick-tock of the wall clock, echoing in the silence, a reminder of every additional second Ziva had placed herself in danger. The woman he was charged with following, with leading to her demise, was the one who turned around and saved his family. He gave her his word that if she were indeed able to save his family, he would repay her with his silence. However, he also understood the need of the men now before him to rescue the woman they cared so much for. Conflict pulled at his conscious, each side demanding his submission.

All heads turned in a single united motion to the sound of a small voice. "Please, papa. Tell them." Rhinmakov stared at his little girl. When he turned and met Tony's gaze, Tony noticed the sheen.

"Love. We do whatever is necessary for love, no?" Rhinmakov took a deep breath and turned back to the roundtable. "I knew where Mishnev was waiting, so we were able to estimate his travel time and ensure your safe arrival here, my family's safe arrival, and Ziva's arrival ahead of Mishnev. She told me to proceed to this location, and while on my way, around 6:30, I was to contact Mishnev and tell him that she revealed her destination and was en route to meet the rest of her team there."

"Where?" Tony interrupted, impatient with the need to know.

Rhinmakov hesitated, then revealed, "Leipzig. She is in Leipzig. She said there was another safehouse there and instructed me to relay the coordinates to Mishnev."

Tony glanced toward Gibbs. "She's going to try to take them out herself, Boss."

"Yeah, Tony. I got that," Gibbs acknowledged tightly.

"What time? What time will Mishnev arrive?" Tony asked, suppressing his rising fear.

"He was staying in a small village outside of Lindhorst. About three hours from Leipzig. If he left when I called, he should arrive around 9:30."

"How far is it from here to Leipzig?" Tony asked, the urgency growing.

Malachi, familiar with the safehouse locations, supplied, "It is about a two hour drive."

Tony jumped to his feet. "That puts us there around ten. We need to go now, Gibbs!"

"I can take you there," Malachi offered, rising to issue orders to the rest of his team.

"McGee, did you unpack any equipment?" Gibbs asked with an undeniable urgency ringing in his words, as the team hastened their steps toward the door.

"No. Everything is still in the car, Boss."

Malachi rounded the corner from the dining room, finishing his orders in rushed Hebrew as the team exited the house and headed directly for the car. The four men piled in quickly, wasting no time backtracking down the dirt road they had arrived on about an hour earlier, leaving a dust cloud in their wake.

"DiNozzo. Call that number she gave you," Gibbs ordered gruffly.

With the phone positioned at his ear, he gave an, "Already on it," in response.

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Ziva heard the car approaching. In the hour she spent preparing, she had managed to dress her bandages, load and position the meager supply of weapons available, and write a quick note.

Her wounds had still been seeping blood and the pain that shot through her abdomen was dizzying. If she survived this, she would need immediate medical attention, she had thought.

The small cache of weapons stored in the house had been loaded and positioned in different locations for easy access in any situation. She wasn't sure what to expect, so she had armed herself with two knives and a Sig. Ziva had also located enough material to build an IED.

And finally, she had placed the scrawled letter in an envelope. The message now sat secured inside a jacket pocket close to her heart, where it belonged.

Holding the sheer, faded curtain aside, Ziva observed a single SUV rambling up the mile long dirt drive. Judging the make of the vehicle, she estimated that there might be four, maybe five, occupants.

The SUV halted about two hundred yards from the house. Four men exited, guns drawn. They split in standard two by two pairs, one set creeping toward the back, and the other, led by whom she assumed to be Mishnev from Rhinmakov's description, approaching the front.

Ziva retreated to the back door located in the kitchen, while keeping an eye on the front through the open living area. A shadow crossed in front of the window and she knew what would happen in the next minute. Taking shelter behind the wall, she waited, training her gun on the back entrance.

Mishnev and his associate took up position in the front of the house on the small porch. Mishnev signaled to his partner to break in the door on the count of three. He raised one finger, quickly followed by a second, then a third. His partner took a step back for maximum force. As he planted his left foot on the mat in front of the door, both he and Mishnev heard a faint click. Both men instantly knew there was an explosive device planted beneath the mat. The hired mercenary was unable to slow his momentum, shifting his weight. Mishnev jumped over the porch railing as the blast propelled shards of glass, wood, and aluminum in every direction. Mishnev could feel the shrapnel piercing his body, the heat scorching his clothes. He laid on the ground, disoriented, his world spinning and ears ringing.

Upon hearing the blast, the back door burst open, one man clad in black entering with an assault rifle leading the way. Ziva continued to kneel down by the kitchen wall. When he entered another two feet, Ziva fired a single shot, hitting her target square in the forehead, and she retreated around the corner. The assailant landed with a thud as the second intruder burst in and began firing at Ziva's previous location. She quietly circled around, commencing the game of cat and mouse. As she snuck up behind the second man, a floorboard creaked. Ziva, wanting to save as much ammunition as possible, pulled the throwing knife from her boot as he turned, taking aim. She buried the knife deep into his throat. The man dropped instantly, unable to even get a shot off. Ziva approached cautiously, noting the vest he wore, thankful for her chosen aim. She then commandeered his weapon after she observed the stare of death. Staring back at the body, remorse and regret battled with the knowledge that it was kill or be killed. This was not who she was anymore, yet it came back so easily, and that frightened her. Had she really changed in the last year? Or, was she the same killer?

Outside, Mishnev stood unsteadily, shaking his head, trying to eliminate the incessant ringing. Blood dripped from his fingers, a piece of shrapnel embedded in his left shoulder. He peered through the intact window and spotted Ziva. Anger coursed through him as he raised his gun. Taking aim through blurred vision, he pulled the trigger.

Gun shots and shattering glass ripped her from her thoughts, sent her diving for cover, yelling out as pain shot through her midsection and upper arm. The rifle she had seized only moments ago, clattering across the wooden floor, blood beginning to flow freely from the bullet wound that had passed through her bicep. "You are mine, bitch!" Mishnev screamed. "I will take great pleasure in spilling your blood!"

Ziva crawled to the back door, exiting and sprinting, hunched over, as fast as her body would allow toward the forest trail. Droplets of red followed her, like a twisted connect-the-dots puzzle.

Mishnev proceeded through the house precariously, unsure of where Ziva disappeared to or if there were any more rigged explosives. He found the back door open, noticed blood on the floor and steps and footprints in the recent rain-induced mud leading to the tree line. Following, he noted a handprint and a deep impression in the mud, causing him to grin. Then, a metallic flash to the right grabbed his attention. A Sig, most likely belonging to the hunted, peered out from the shrubs, probably dislodged from its owner when she fell. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

He continued to pursue cautiously, nonetheless. About three hundred meters in, a sudden flash of movement caught his attention before he knew what it was. A baseball bat sized tree limb swung out from behind the trunk of a tree with so much force that Mishnev's head snapped back as he was knocked off of his feet. His rifle was flung to the side. Ziva approached to deliver another blow, adrenaline numbing the pain. As she did, Mishnev pulled a secondary weapon and fired two shots blindly in the direction of his assailant. He heard the dead weight hit the forest floor and took a moment to catch his breath.

Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he located the prone figure lying only a few meters away. He eyed her and noticed the subtle rise and fall of her chest, still indicating life. Relief filled him as he stood. "I am glad that you are still alive. This way I can watch you suffer for what you did to your own blood. You do not deserve an easy death," he said maliciously as he approached. Mishnev's heavy combat boot connected with Ziva's stomach in a vicious blow. She could not stop the moan that passed her lips. Two more followed, each more painful and strangely numbing. "Ahhh. I was wondering how you lived. A vest I see. I too prepare for such things," he said, pulling the jacket he was wearing apart slightly at the top.

Mishnev reached behind his back and produced a Sig, her Sig, and took aim at her forehead. "Fitting, no? To die as your brother did. Maybe this is the very gun that took his life," Mishnev said thoughtfully. "I would love to spend more time enjoying your demise. However, I have someone else that I need to find. Dasvidanyia."

A shot echoed. Time stood still. Silence permeated. Was this death? Utter nothingness?

"Ziva!" Gibbs bellowed, slicing through the quiet and keeping his weapon aimed as he rushed down the trail. He checked Mishnev's body, making sure he was dead before dropping to his knees beside the woman he considered a daughter. "Ziver?" A quiet moan escaped her lips, but she wasn't capable of opening her eyes. "Come on, Ziva. You need to fight! DiNozzo fought for you. Now it's your turn to fight for him, dammit!" Gibbs began to apply pressure to her bleeding arm, unaware of the internal damage. "You do not have my permission to die. You hear me? Stay with us Ziver." He reached into his pocket for his sat phone and dialed. "Colonel Smithson. I need that chopper ASAP." He rattled off the coordinates and hit end.

"Boss?!" Tony yelled, searchingly. Then, "Ziva!"

Ziva was unable to respond. Muffled voices eventually faded as she succumbed to darkness.