Disclaimer: What other ways are there to get rid of pests in pink scrubs? Maybe I should call in the exterminators, maybe that'll work. Nope, NCIS is not mine (as much as I would like it to be).
A/N I borrowed the concept of the swinging secret door from Grace Period (you know the door the bomber appears in). This is similar to that scene and is what I pictured while writing my scene.
Also I would like to thank every single one of my reviewers and readers, especially the ones which have been with me from day one. I love getting your reviews and hearing what you think. I never thought that this story would be so successful (sixty one reviews) so I thank you all for supporting me. This chapter is for you. Also my lovely beta Kandon Kuuson, I couldn't do it without you :)
"If only. Those must be the two saddest words in the world." - Mercedes Lackey
Chapter Eight: Headshot
Present time - somewhere in the unknown
"I still don't agree," Ziva stated plainly for the seventieth time. "Okay, maybe father was telling me what to do, but I was just following orders."
"For the millionth time, Zee," Tali sighed, the frustration showing in her voice, "it's been like that from the beginning."
Ziva opened her mouth to reply, but Kate cut her off.
"Why don't you just accept it?" Kate snapped, sick and tired of talking around in circles. "You've been prepped for Mossad since the very beginning."
"That's not . . ." Ziva trailed off, not willing to believe it.
"Were you ever given the chance to choose what you wanted to be when you grew up?" Roy asked, taking over the conversation before a fight erupted between Kate and Ziva again. He failed.
"Sure, I was," Ziva replied quickly, looking around at the three faces. Tali gave her a 'you're only fooling yourself' look.
"Face it, Zee-vah," Kate said, in a perfect imitation of Tony. A weird sensation ripped through Ziva's body, she was unable to identify it. "Mossad has been your…" Kate looked around, trying to find the right words, "well…destiny."
"Destiny?" Ziva scoffed. "Since when was protecting your county destiny?"
"Since it was forced on you," Kate answered hotly.
"It wasn't forced on me," Ziva bit back.
"You really believe that don't you?"
"What else is there to believe?" Ziva replied, her eyes locking with Kate's in silent conflict.
"You could believe us," Roy voiced. "We know these things?"
"Why, because you're dead," Ziva snapped harshly.
"No, because it's there is plain sight, Ziva," Roy replied firmly. "Just look at Ari . . ."
"Don't you dare bring Ari into this," Ziva and Kate yelled at the same time, both glaring at Roy.
"Okay, okay, touchy subject." Roy backed away a little, holding his up hands in defence at the harsh stares.
"Okay, guys, time-out," Tali cut-in loudly, making the time-out sign with her hands. "We are not here to argue. We are here to help Ziva, yes?"
"I guess," Kate muttered.
"Kate . . ." Tali said warningly.
" Fine!" Kate sighed, pursed her lips and folded her arms. She walked over to the couch and sat down in silence.
"Good," Tali said with relief. "Now, watch this, Zee." Tali pointed to the screen and it once again lit up.
House of Ra'd Karim, Tel Aviv, August 1999
"Hirsch, take David and Harel and cover the back," the voice over the radio said. "Nobody gets in or out."
"Yes, sir," Hirsch replied strongly and turned to the two young Mossad officers. "David, Harel, you've got your orders." Hirsch turned abruptly and the two officers who had been Mossad a mere two-weeks shot each other a look before hurrying after their superior officer.
"David, cover the left," Hirsch commanded, pointing to each side of the door as they neared the back entrance, "Harel, the right."
"Yes, sir," Ziva and Adena Harel replied instantly and moved to their positions.
"In place," Hirsch said over his radio, taking position directly in front of the door.
"Wait for my command," the static-y voice replied, "and remember nobody gets in or out."
"Sir," Hirsch replied affirmatively. "David, Harel . . ."
"Got it, sir," Ziva replied quickly and Adena nodded. Hirsch nodded back.
"Team Alpha in position," a female voice transmitted over the radio.
"Team Tango in position," another voice added.
"Wait for my command," came the same voice as before.
"Pssst, Addy," Ziva whispered, making sure that Hirsch couldn't hear.
"What?" she whispered back.
"You scared?" Ziva asked seriously.
"No," Adena replied confidently, "you?"
"Of course not," Ziva stated, "we're trained for this."
"That we are," Adena replied solemnly.
"Stop it," Hirsch hissed angrily, noticing the two young officers were whispering.
"Sorry, sir," Ziva and Adena apologised. Hirsch shot them a look before turning his attention back to the door.
"All units proceed," the radio voice yelled. "Go!"
Hirsch nodded at Ziva who kicked in the door and Adena whipped around the corner, gun pointed at the lone male in the room. Ziva heard two shots being fired and two seconds later Adena's head poked out the door.
"Clear," she said emotionlessly, before disappearing back through the door.
Ziva and Hirsch followed, their guns drawn. Covering one another as they searched for their targets, Ziva saw a body lying on the floor, knowing that he had been shot by Adena. The three Mossad officers inched their way across the back room, pausing just outside the next door. Giving a slight indication of his head, Adena pushed open the door and she and Ziva entered the room. Hirsch followed suit. Looking around the room, Ziva heard the opposite door open and . . .
"Behind you!" Ziva yelled at Hirsch. He spun around and with tremendous accuracy, launched two rounds into the terrorist's heart. Turning away before the body had even hit the ground, Hirsch muttered, "Toda." Ziva nodded in response.
Straightening himself up, Hirsch pointed to the door the dead terrorist had just come through and indicated that Ziva, Adena and he were to exit the room that way.
Adena vacated the room first, followed by Hirsch. Ziva shot the body one last look, taking in the features of the young man, before shaking herself out of it and following her team.
A steady stream of gunfire echoed throughout the rather large house as Ziva, Adena and Hirsch cleared the rooms in the back. So far, Adena and Hirsch had both taken out two men. Ziva had yet to fire her gun.
"David, Harel." Hirsch pointed to a closed door and Ziva and Adena obediently made their way over to it. Pushing it open, and being met with a hail of gunfire, Ziva and Adena immediately pushed themselves against the outer wall. Looking at each other and understanding their facial expressions, Ziva and Adena re-entered the room and fired off six rounds. Adena's four rounds killed two men instantly and Ziva's two rounds immobilised another.
Speaking in rapid Arabic, Ziva directed her questions at the remaining terrorist.
"Where is Ra'd Karim?" Ziva asked forcefully, looking at the fallen man in disgust.
"I know nothing," he replied glaringly.
"Why don't I believe you," Ziva retorted harshly, pressing her foot down on his shoulder wound. He flinched.
"No . . ."
Ziva shook her head. "Not good enough." She bent over and grabbed his bloodied arm. Twisting it with a move she had learnt when she was twelve, she replied, "I'll ask you again. Where is Karim?"
"I do not know," he muttered.
"Then I'll end it right here." Ziva cocked her gun and pushed it to his temple. "Last chance."
"He . . . he is not here," the terrorist tried one last time.
"Good-bye," Ziva said and pulled back on the trigger.
"No . . . wait." He looked up and Ziva let go of the trigger.
"Typical men," Ziva scoffed, "always the cowards."
"I am no coward!" he yelled. Ziva put her finger back on the trigger.
"Okay, okay," he mumbled. "There is an underground room."
"Where?"
"Entrance is through the bathroom two doors down," he replied.
Ziva turned and looked at Hirsch, who had amusingly been watching the exchange, and he nodded. Stepping back from the terrorist, Ziva was stunned when two bullets whizzed past her head and buried themselves in the head and heart of the terrorist. Turning away from the falling body, Ziva looked incredulously at Hirsch.
"He served his purpose," Hirsch said flatly and exited the room, without giving the body a second glance.
Even Adena stood rooted to the spot, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. Snapping out of her stupor, Adena motioned to Ziva and proceeded to exit the room just as Hirsch had done. Ziva was still for a moment, taking the time to really look at the young terrorist's face.
"Ziva!" Adena hissed sternly from outside the room. Giving the body one last, almost saddened look, Ziva exited the room.
After doing a thorough sweep of the underground room and finding it deserted, Ziva, Adena and Hirsch took a moment to collect their thoughts.
"You all right?" Hirsch asked the two young officers, the first sign of compassion he had shown.
"Of course," Adena stated confidently.
Ziva just nodded, very aware that her voice might betray her. Truthfully, Ziva was exhausted, mentally rather than physically. This was her first major raid since becoming a fully-fledged officer two weeks ago. Although Mossad had prepared her for this, it was nothing like any training manual described.
"Zee?" Adena questioned, snapping Ziva out of her trance.
"I'm fine." Ziva put all her effort into keeping her voice level. Both Adena and Hirsch seemed to buy it. Ziva let out an internal sigh of relief. She didn't need her colleagues thinking that she wasn't cut out for this.
"David," Hirsch began and Ziva nodded to show that she was listening, "I want you to stay here and make sure this room stays secure."
"Yes, sir," Ziva replied obediently, almost relieved that she wouldn't have to go back into the hail of gunfire.
"Harel, you come with me." Hirsch exited the room and after giving Ziva a small smile, Adena rushed after him.
Looking around the room, Ziva sighed. This was not how she had pictured her life. "What have I gotten myself into," Ziva muttered to herself.
She pretty much regretted the way she had extracted the information about this room from the dead terrorist. It was her training that took over her. Ziva paced the room, sure that nobody would be coming any time soon. It was most likely that all the terrorists in this house had been taken out by Mossad officers. It was deathly silent, so the sound of a door creaking open startled Ziva more than it should.
Ziva spun around, gun drawn, and found herself facing the back of a male figure. Part of the wall had moved and there was a small room situated behind it.
"Mossad, turn around with your hands where I can see them!" Ziva ordered loudly, her training taking over. She gripped her gun tighter. The figure did not move.
"I said turn around or I will shoot," Ziva commanded with as much authority as she could muster. Slowly, the figure turned around, hands raised in the air.
"Keep turning!" Ziva yelled. "Keep your hands where I can see them."
The figure finished turning around and Ziva found herself face to face with a boy no older than Tali. This threw Ziva for a moment.
Flashback
"Zee, watch out!" fifteen year old Tali yelled happily as she raced past her older sister. Turning, Ziva found herself colliding with Tali's current boyfriend, Jacob.
"Sorry, Ziva," Jacob apologised, smiling at the older woman.
"No problem," Ziva replied, "no harm done."
"You sure? I wouldn't want to . . ." he trailed off helplessly.
"Yes, I am sure," Ziva laughed. "Go, have fun."
Jacob gave Ziva another innocent smile and hurried after Tali. He caught up with Tali and wrapped his arms around her. Ziva smiled.
End Flashback
Unfortunately while Ziva was distracted by the sight of the fifteen year old boy, he had managed to wriggle free of his jacket. Underneath was a mass of wires and cylinders, which Ziva immediately recognised as a bomb.
"Don't do it!" Ziva yelled, all of her training flying out the window. "Don't do this."
The boy looked at Ziva and said, "In the name of Allah . . ."
"No!" Ziva shouted as the boy's finger reached for the trigger. Knowing that if he pressed it, she and the rest of the house, including her colleagues, would explode into a million little pieces. "No!"
Slowly, his finger continued to reach for the trigger as if this was a movie playing in slow motion. Without warning or conscious thought, Ziva raised her gun and pulled the trigger.
'Bang.' The bullet exited Ziva's gun and rocketed towards the boy, hitting his squarely in the forehead. The explosive trigger fell harmlessly to the floor and his body followed soon afterwards.
Ziva stared at the scene, unable to move. Her fingers went slack and the gun fell from her grip. She backed away from the body as if it was contaminated. Reaching for the solidness of the wall, Ziva slide down to the ground, unable to tear her eyes away from the body of the fifteen year old teenager. Breathing heavily, Ziva felt the awful sense of guilt creeping into her body.
'I killed a teenager,' she thought. 'I killed a Jacob.'
She buried her face in her hands. 'If only . . . what have I done?' But as quickly as these thoughts came, another voice filled her head.
'Grow up, Ziva, and get over it. He was the enemy and you neutralised him. Think of the consequences. It was kill or be killed. If he had succeeded, you and your colleagues would be dead. It was a job well done,' she heard her father say. 'Stop being weak, Ziva. Mossad officers are not weak.'
"I am not weak," Ziva mumbled to herself. "I have never been weak and I never will."
Picking herself up, she walked over and retrieved her gun. Without a second thought or glance at the body, Ziva exited the room. She was determined that something like this would never happen again. She would not be weak again.