Sampson paced around Director Shepard's house, waiting for someone to give him some kind of instruction. Dr. Mallard and his assistant had not yet arrived to clear the bodies in the study and the one in the upstairs hall, and it was unlikely they would be in any hurry, given that the time and circumstances of the men's deaths were clearly established. Agent Gibbs and the Director had left to take the two surviving terrorists, untreated bullet grazes and all, back to NCIS almost an hour before. Agent McGee had followed Agent DiNozzo and Officer David to the hospital shortly before that. Sampson was stuck by himself with no idea how to proceed beyond not screwing up by moving anything. The two uniformed officers from Metro assigned to help him keep the scene secure seemed equally at a loss as to what they should be doing. They had settled for guarding the front door from the porch.

He pulled out his phone as he walked upstairs to check yet again that he was the only living thing in the house and called the only person he thought could help him.

"Yes?"

"Cynthia, I…"

"George, I'm sure you know it's a little crazy right now and I don't really have time to…"

"No, I…I mean, I would call you just to talk but…" He made a quick hop to the side to avoid a marked shell casing. One of the few things he known to do for sure was note each casing he'd found; he'd also sketched the study and hallway where the bodies were. "I'm just at Director Shepard's house and I don't really know what else to do until…well, until someone lets me know what else I should do. I don't even have a camera besides the one on my cell phone and I think it's full."

Something that sounded like an airplane passing on Cynthia's end cut off the first few words of her reply, "…is coming up from Norfolk to handle…didn't anyone call to update you?"

"I think they forgot about me, actually." He leaned against a wood-paneled wall after carefully checking it for blood splatter. "More important things happening." He heard nothing but a car motor for several seconds on the line. "Cynthia?"

"George, I'm really sorry, but Director Shepard sent me to Andrews to meet Ziva's father, who probably hasn't been told what's happened yet because he's been in the air and…I think that's his team now! I'll call you later!"

He said, "Bye," to a buzz of static.

Resuming his aimless pacing, which strategically avoided more than a glimpse of the corpse upstairs, Sampson wondered if the terrorists had felt as awkward as he did in the director's bedroom. Probably not, considering they'd taken over her house and used it as a hideout. Besides, he wasn't here to snoop, he was just doing his job, making sure they hadn't missed anything. Quick sweep, peek in the closets, under the bed, in the bathroom, behind the shower curtain, – he couldn't remember checking there before…because if he had, he probably wouldn't have forgotten to mention this particular detail. He briefly wondered who to call before deciding that the Metro cops should be informed first.

He kicked at least one shell casing out of position as he rocketed down the front staircase, shouting, "Bomb! Bomb!"

Abraham David signaled vaguely with his left hand as he exited the airport hangar into the cool night air, prompting one of his security personnel to hand him a long wool coat. He nodded his thanks. His team had satisfied him – not only had they managed an invitation to land at a US military facility rather than a commercial airport, but they had kept him apprised of all movements on the ground while en route. He was already aware, for example, that Ziva had been safely conveyed to a hospital with minor injuries – a circumstance that had put him considerably more at ease – and that Director Shepard was too busy to meet him in person. He walked toward a woman whose Social Security number he could recite, if need be. He extended his hand. "Cynthia, I believe?"

"Yes, Director David. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome to Washington. Well, Maryland, but…I'm sure you're eager to…er…"

"Perhaps you could update me on the situation on the way to NCIS, yes?"

She seemed more nervous when he stated his intentions for their destination. "Of course. We'll be riding in the limo and your team can partner with agents in the SUVs, if that's all right?"

"Excellent. Hannah, Dagan, with me. The rest of you…" He used the same gesture that had gotten him his coat a few minutes ago and the team divided without a word. Again, it was what was to be expected of Moussad operatives. He settled himself in the rear seat of the limo with a nod to a man in a suit sitting close beside the driver. "So, Cynthia. I believe you are acquainted, at least by telephone, with my assistant, Hannah. And this is Officer Eyal Dagan, a trusted agent and close friend of Ziva's."

He waited for the pleasantries to be concluded before nudging the conversation along. "I take it that all was resolved at Director Shepard's home?"

Cynthia nodded and pressed a button to raise the divider that isolated the passengers' compartment. "Faiz Safad and Alexander Nozdryov were killed at the scene, along with another unidentified man. Two others are in custody at NCIS, pending identification."

"I see." He folded his hands and waited silently as they passed through a security checkpoint.

"I believe Director Shepard mentioned that Moussad would be allowed to interrogate the prisoners…at some point, probably not at the Navy Yard, and…"

"Relax, Cynthia. Do not feel as if you have to be responsible for Shepard's decisions. I will discuss it with her when I see her shortly." He tried to be as offhand as possible as he asked first for a bottle of water from the small refrigerator, then, "Tell me, what do you know of my daughter's condition?"

"As far as I know, Ziva has minor wounds that are being treated in the ER."

He covered his long exhalation with a feigned sip of water. "And Tony? Is he in good health?"

"Last I heard, they were taking him to surgery."

He nodded gravely. "So it is serious."

"Sorry I don't know more."

"Quite all right. We shall find out more in due time." In spite of his concern, he maintained his undisturbed air. They had been riding in silence for some time before he said, "So, Cynthia. You have worked for Shepard for some time?"

"Er, since she took the job as Director of NCIS."

"You must be good at your job to have kept it for so long. A good assistant is worth her or his weight in gold." He ignored Hannah's muttered Hebrew rebuttal. He continued to make useless small talk. "You are not married, Cynthia?"

"No. No, not yet."

"Ah, you have someone in mind."

"Well…"

"Forgive me. It is not my place." At a subtle gesture from Dagan, he glanced out the darkly tinted window. "I believe we are almost to the Navy Yard."

Cynthia looked outside. "Yes, sir. You know your way around Washington."

"Indeed."

Gibbs folded his arms and squinted through the one-way glass at one of the two survivors from the shootout. The man was sitting at the table in Interrogation, picking at the gauze bandage wrapped around his forearm. It had been a long, trying day and for once in his life, Gibbs had no interest in concluding it by breaking a suspect. He leaned his elbow against one of the shelves of recording equipment and wondered why DiNozzo seemed to find the position so comfortable. "He's not gonna say anything."

"Not to us, no," Jen agreed. She jerked her head across the room toward the other interrogation room. "He won't talk either."

The edge of the shelf was starting to dig into him. "You don't seem too upset about that."

"They're nobodies. As far as I'm concerned, Moussad can have them."

"Are you kidding?"

"Safad is dead; Sahrawi is in custody. As far as I'm concerned, this is over."

"That your official stance?"

Her eyebrows contracted hard as she turned to him. "Official, unofficial, casual watercooler gossip – all of it. Over. Done."

"Jen, there's an active crime scene at your house right now…"

"Cleanup. We already know what happened. Once everything is…"

"I think there's a few too many people involved for you to wave a magic wand and make everyone forget what happened, and I don't just mean over the past twenty-four hours." He followed her abrupt departure from Observation. "Hey! You can't just walk away from…"

She whirled on him. "I know! Don't you think I know that without your goddamn self-righteous…" She was cut off as she snapped open her ringing phone. "What! Oh, Cynthia, I'll be right up."

Gibbs was ready to continue arguing, but his own phone rang just as Jen was hanging up. "Yeah, Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs, it's Sampson. I found a bomb in the bathroom at Director Shepard's house."

He brought a hand to his eyes and rubbed tiredly. "Are you joking?"

"No, sir. The bomb squad is on its way, but is there anything that…"

"Just hold things down until…" Gibbs looked over his shoulder and broke into a jog. The elevator doors closed on his hand before opening again. Jen scowled at him. He pretended that he hadn't seen it and turned his attention back to his phone. "Sampson, don't let anyone in until the bomb squad clears the place. The whole place."

"Should I…?"

"Stay outta there until you get an all clear. The last thing I need is another team member in the hospital." He tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared at the elevator doors as it rose.

As expected, Jen didn't last more than a few seconds. "Well?"

"Well what?"

She reached across him and shut down the elevator. "I know Sampson is still at the scene. Why were you talking to him about a bomb squad?"

"I thought we weren't talking about this anymore?"

"What do you want me to say? That I screwed up when I made it personal?"

"That would be a start."

He had almost readied himself for a slap across the face when her hand moved to the button to restart the elevator. "You are such a hypocrite."

"Maybe, but I'm not the director."

Jen sighed. "Are you going to tell me why the bomb squad is at my house?"

"Sampson said he found something in a bathroom."

She muttered under her breath, "Maybe a good explosion is what this whole thing needs."

Gibbs pretended not to have heard. He could wait out another confrontation until after he'd found out how his people were faring at the hospital. "I'll check in with Sampson in person on my way to University Hospital and let you know what's going on."