"Ziva David." Ziva looked up at the screen in MTAC.
"Yes, Director Marshall. You have heard my husband's name?" He nodded and then played the audio. She had already heard it before but now it seemed more real in MTAC.
"They have him," she said quietly. "Do you have any idea where Director Marshall?" He shook his head.
"As I think you understood the only place they mentioned was Jerusalem." Ziva nodded.
"Yes, an exchange will take place on Rosh Hashanah. Tony for bin Laden's son." Director Marshall bit his lip then sighed.
"Yes. We have his son in our custody." Ziva frowned.
"Where? Gitmo? Florence? Alcatraz?" Director Marshall shook his head.
"Right behind you." She turned round and by reflex pulled her gun out. She gasped.
The man next to Agent Watterson was a tall tanned man with slightly curly hair. A very good looking guy, Ziva was caught surprised .
"You?" she asked in Arabic. He didn't reply but laughed.
"I can't speak Arabic. Sorry." She narrowed her eyes. What would bin Laden want with a son like this? He smiled at her, Ziva noticed that his teeth were snow white.
"What do you do...what's your name?" Sheepishly he replied.
"I'm Michael...Michael Sinclair. The adopted son of Thomas Sinclair. I work for a company that makes bombs for the US Army." Ziva knew that already from the name Sinclair but she still wasn't sure why bin Laden would want this pristine Ivy League graduate.
"I also happen to be the sole heir to Sinclair Industries. I have 2 elder sisters who have already married away." Now she realised. If Osama got this son of his. Not only would he have someone who was trained to make bombs but also a few million dollars in his pocket.
"If you are the sole heir why do you make bombs?" He shrugged.
"I guess it's in my genes Miss David." She shook her head.
"It's MRS DiNozzo. It's my husband who your father has got." Michael clenched his jaw.
"He is not my father. He merely provided me with half of my genes. Thomas Sinclair raised me as his son." Ziva nodded.
"So does your father know about this then?" Michael shook his head.
"...No. He does not. He has given me so much, this is the least that I can for him." Director Marshall spoke.
"Very well then. Rosh Hashanah is 20 days away. I shall speak to you all again very soon." The screen went black. It was awkward between Michael and Ziva.
"I guess that I'll see you soon, Ziva." For a moment he sounded like Rivkin.
"No, Rivkin's dead," Ziva told herself. She turned to the picture of Tony in her wallet and kissed it.
"We'll be together again Tony. Just you wait and see."