A/N: Okay, I didn't make it by NCIS Day, as promised. My plans were thwarted by several bottles of Merlot, inspiration for yet another story, and what I'm sure is the beginnings of swine flu (even if it has been a year since my last trip to the US). But here it is: a few days late, a few hundred words longer than expected, and hopefully good enough to keep you all interested.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Except for this bottle of Merlot.

Twenty minutes and countless broken road laws later, the rescue convoy sped through the narrow roads of Rock Creek Park. McGee and Ducky worked as a navigation team with the GPS and the map Abby had printed, and Gibbs swung the wheel around like an F1 driver on speed. They were heading to a section of the park that was used less by the public, and at this time of night would be almost deserted. In fact, they hadn't seen another car, jogger or cyclist in about a mile.

A final bridge, hill and corner, and McGee called out. "Okay, boss? Now we're going to have to do a little off-roading." He peered through the windshield and looked back to the GPS. "Aim for the break in trees on the left."

Gibbs aimed, and all three of them bounced around the cab of the truck when the tires hit a series of exposed tree roots and potholes. "Which direction?" he wanted to know.

McGee looked around and made a quick estimate. "We're looking at about 100 feet to the north-east."

Gibbs wasn't surprised that McGee's directions took them along the natural break in the trees. What they were driving on couldn't exactly be called a road, or even a trail. But it was the only way a car could move between the trees.

They came over a rise, and the headlights picked up tire tracks in the softer dirt. Thinking quickly, Gibbs moved as far to the right as he could to try to avoid disturbing them. If they belonged to whoever had dumped Ziva out here, they'd want plaster casts. He checked his mirror and was relieved to see Abby steer around them as well.

"Slow, slow, slow," McGee said. "We should be almost on top of her."

Gibbs hit the brakes hard enough to make all of them glad they were wearing seatbelts. His feet were on the ground almost before the engine had fully shut off. By the time he made it to the back of the truck, Tony was already there and pulling open the doors. Tony grabbed a shovel and a crowbar, and Gibbs took the remaining two shovels.

Noting that Abby's cell wasn't anywhere in sight, Gibbs dared to ask. "Lose phone reception?"

Tony glanced at him, with a tight jaw and scared eyes. "Dead battery."

"How long?"

"Fifteen minutes."

Enough small talk. They joined the others standing in the vehicles' headlights.

"Where is she?" Tony wanted to know.

"Should be within a couple of feet," McGee said. "No more than ten."

"Look for disturbed ground," Tony called as they all spread out. He looked around for tire tracks like they'd seen just a few feet back, figuring they would have driven Ziva as far as possible. When he had no luck, he pulled his cell phone out and tried to call her one more time. Speed dial number 1. He kicked at a suspicious-looking pile of leaves as he waited for the call to connect, then swore under his breath when her phone diverted straight to voicemail.

"Here!" Gibbs suddenly called from beyond the tree line.

Tony almost twisted an ankle when he spun around again and took off in a run towards Gibbs' voice. He covered the ground in just a few seconds and came upon Gibbs and McGee crouching beside a mound of leaves and dirt, about six feet long by three feet wide and one foot high. The three of them worked to clear off the leaves with their hands, finding the dirt beneath darker and damper than the earth around them.

"Ducky!" Tony called out as he stood to full height and gripped the shovel.

"How can I help?"

"We need more light. Swing the truck around."

Abby helped Ducky climb back through the trees towards the truck as the others prepared to dig. Tony took the far end of the mound, McGee the middle and Gibbs the other end. Gently at first, Tony pressed his shovel into the earth. Finding no resistance, he scooped out the dirt and swung it out to the front and right, narrowly missing McGee. Without a word, the junior agent jumped out of the way and switched position so that he was facing the same way as Tony.

Confident now that she wasn't only a foot or so under the surface and in danger of getting a blade in the face, Tony reared back and rammed the shovel deeper into the ground. Then he did it again. And again. His strikes were powered by every ounce of anger, frustration and fear he felt.

Get rid of it now, he told himself. Because you're not going to lay it all on her when she gets out. You're her support, DiNozzo. Don't you dare make her carry you tonight.

As the others dug, Abby helped Ducky prepare a patch of ground behind them with all the necessary equipment: a portable heart defibrillator, foil blanket, latex gloves, gauze, stethoscope, neck brace, air bag mask.

"She'll probably be okay, right?" Abby asked him when they crossed paths at the back of the truck. "I mean, Ziva's at, like, professional athlete levels of fitness. That's good, right?"

"It's certainly not bad," Ducky replied "She'd do better than any of us."

Abby knew Ducky meant for that to be comforting. But then she considered the 'us' Ducky was referring to: Ducky was nudging 70, Gibbs had been a smoker for 20 years, McGee was claustrophobic, Tony had crappy plague lungs, and Abby herself was not exactly at the peak of fitness. Suddenly, Ducky's comment was not that comforting. But Abby gave him a tight smile anyway and went back to bringing medical equipment out of the truck, effectively ending the conversation. She couldn't handle Ducky's brand of comfort right now.

The soundtrack for the next five minutes was a mash-up of metal on dirt, idling car engines and grunts of exertion. It didn't take long for the dust to clung to their clothes and faces, and sting their eyes. Muscles strained and backs felt like breaking, but none of them would dare consider taking a break. Three days of sore arms would be nothing compared with the years of guilt if Ziva didn't make it.

And then, three feet down, Tony's shovel struck something hard. Gibbs and McGee stopped their work and looked over. With his hopes rising, Tony gently tapped his shovel into the base of his hole. He was answered with a definite thunk. His head snapped up and he met Gibbs' eyes in surprise.

"I think I got her."

"Flashlight, Abby," Gibbs called over his shoulder, and he and McGee stepped over piles of dirt to crouch beside Tony.

Abby appeared between Tony and McGee and aimed the flashlight down. Tony used his shovel to scrape at the dirt at the bottom of the hole, and soon revealed what looked like a plank of wood.

"It's her!" Abby cried. "Ziva!"

There was no response.

"Keep going," Tony said.

McGee and Gibbs refocused their efforts at the edge of the hold Tony had made, while Tony grabbed the crowbar. He got down on his stomach to reach into the hole, and then, with as much care as he could, started punching a hole in the wood. Ziva needed fresh air—now.

He made a hole wide enough to fit the crowbar through, then threaded the hooked end through the hole and pulled up with all his strength. The wood did not immediately give way, so he changed his grip and yanked. That seemed to work better, so he did it over and over again until finally a chunk of wood about the size of his hand peeled back.

Again, Abby shone the torch down into the hole. Directly under it was a thick lock of dark brown curls.

"Ziva!" Tony and Abby yelled together.

Again, there was no response. No movement. Tony shoved the crowbar back into the hole again and yanked back on it. Another chunk of wood came free. Now the hole was about the size of a bread plate, but still they could only see her hair.

Tony handled Abby the crowbar, and pressed his chest flat to the ground as he pushed his hand through the hole and stretched to reach her. He found the side of her head, and then felt his way down to the side of her neck, right under her jaw. Then, he held his breath and prayed. For what felt like minutes, he felt nothing under her still-warm skin. And then, a pulse. He moved his fingers a fraction lower, trying to find the exact point of movement, and he felt it again. It was weak, and it was slow, but it was there.

"Thank you, God," he practically sobbed, and removed his hand. "She's alive! Can't tell if she's breathing, but there's a pulse."

He picked up his shovel again and joined McGee and Gibbs as they elongated the hole, spreading down towards where McGee had been digging just minutes before. The news gave them all another shot of energy, and they threw themselves into the task until they'd cleared the dirt from Tony's hole all the way down to McGee's.

Abby handed Tony the crowbar, and this time while he worked at pulling apart the wood, Abby picked up his shovel and started digging.

The bigger hole gave Tony more leverage, and he was able to pull the wood away more easily now. Soon, he'd pulled away enough to expose her head and almost down to her waist. He had thought he'd feel better as soon as he laid eyes on her, because then he'd know for sure that she was alive and real. In fact, the opposite was true. The sight of her small body, twisted and bound and still, made Tony want to be sick—until the anger rolled through is gut. Whoever did this to her, whoever tried to take away her fire and pride, was going to regret it. Because this team would find them. And then Ziva would show them exactly why she was probably the worst person in the world to fuck with.

"Duck, I need a knife!" he called out. Carefully, Tony lowered himself into the hole, bracing his feet as wide as possible to as not to put his weight on the weakened wood. Ducky handed him a three-inch blade, and then he crouched down and reached forward to slice the bloodied plastic cuffs that bound Ziva's wrists.

He handed the knife back, wiped the sweat of his brow with his forearm and looked up at Gibbs and McGee. "Let's try to ease her out."

As Gibbs and McGee got into position, Tony eased her left arm forward to cross over her stomach, then tilted her onto her back. Gibbs reached down to help him pull her shoulders up, so she was almost sitting upright, and then the three of them lifted her limp body up through the splintered wood, stopping every few seconds to manoeuvre her clothes and bare arms around the jagged edges of the box. Abby rushed forward to help McGee steady Ziva's weight, and she almost yelped when she felt how cold and clammy her friend's skin was. McGee caught her eye and shook his head, and Abby kept her mouth shut. Everyone was thinking the same thing, and there was no need to say it aloud.

They group finally got her completely above ground, and McGee quickly carried her over to Ducky's makeshift battlefield hospital and carefully set her down on her back. Gibbs scrambled out of the hole and then helped Abby pull Tony out after him. The four of them had done all they could do for the moment. Now, it was Ducky's turn.

I just had a chat with Chapter 6, and it told me that it can't wait to be read by you all. So why don't you click through?