Washington DC—Bullpen

After a long, heated discussion with Vance, Gibbs came down the stairs and paused in the entrance to the bullpen.

"What do we got?"

Kensi looked up. "Well, Dom and I could go to the rental place he got the car from and see what we can find out about this guy."

"Go."

"And bring Nate," Hetty instructed.

"When Abby gets back, we can have her run a DNA test on the blood we found at the apartment. If it's the kidnapper's, we know who he is."

"So you're saying we don't have anything yet."

"Gibbs," Callen cut in. "We're doing the best we can."

"Well, until I get my agents back, your bet isn't good enough!" He sat down hard in his chair just as McGee walked up.

"McGee!"

"Boss, I'm so sorry—"

"Where's Abby?" he interrupted.

"She's down in her lab with Eric—"

"So why are you up here?"

"Well, I—"

Gibbs interrupted him. "We both know that lab isn't as safe as it should be. Get down there!"

"On it, Boss!" The elevator doors were already opening.

Washington DC?????

"Tony, we need a plan," Ziva decided.

They had been sitting in silence for what felt like hours, though she couldn't be sure without a clock. She had the feeling that Tony knew something she didn't; something important. But when she'd asked he'd just shaken his head at her sadly, refusing to answer.

"Ziva, it took us months to save you from Saleem. And even though they don't have to go all the way around the world to save us – I don't think – it's still going to take a while. We used up an agency's worth of connections, more luck than we'll ever have again, and now we've got a bunch of battle scars to show off."

Thinking he was blaming her for this – which he had every right to do, in her eyes – she retaliated. "I do not remember asking you to come rescue me!" She already felt guilty enough about all the pain – both physical and emotional – that she had put him through.

"I told you why I had to do that," he replied quietly.

She had been about to respond when they heard a sharp click from the direction of the door. They shared a quick, anxious glance, and then all attention was on the turning doorknob.

It slowly opened, and in walked a man slightly younger than Tony.

"All right," Tony said lightly – though he wasn't in the lightest of moods. "It's been fun, but we've got to go. You see, our boss told us if we were late one more time, he'd –"

"I think tardiness and a boss' empty threats are the least of your worries," the man said coldly as he crossed the room, never taking his eyes off of Ziva. "You know," he said, lifting her chin to get a better look at her face, "I thought your father was exaggerating when he spoke of your beauty. I am happy to see that that is not the case, although it will be a shame to mask it with your blood and bruises."

Tony struggled harder against his binds at the threat. "Then why don't you just let her go?"

The man turned, looking at Tony for the first time. "I was given orders. In Mossad, when we are given orders, we follow them –" he turned back to Ziva – "or we face the consequences. Director David does not approve of disobedience."

"Oh, yeah?" Tony knew it was comments such as these that would only make his last moments more miserable, but he just wanted this man's attention far away from Ziva. "Well, I don't approve of guys who hurt the women I love!"

Ziva, clueless about Jeanne's death, gasped. As far as she knew, Tony had just admitted he loved her, and she had no doubt that this man would use that information to torture them even more.

Tony was satisfied to see that his words had the desired effect: the man was facing Tony again, a smug smile on his face. "Ah, yes, I wish I'd stayed longer to see the look on your face when you saw her. It was an added bonus that you would be the one to see her first, before anyone could warn you."

"She wasn't –"

Whoa. Slow down, he thought. He'd been about to say, "She wasn't the only one I was talking about," but that wasn't what you said to the man who was just trying to find more ways to torture you. Besides, this was not the time or the place to tell Ziva he loved her.

The man's grin widened at Tony's abrupt loss of words. "She wasn't what, Mr. DiNozzo?"

"She wasn't ready to die," Tony spit at the man.

He just laughed, and walked toward the door again. "Well, I suggest that you prepare yourself. Because ready or not, here I'll come."