Ziva's head swam as she regained consciousness. She was lying in the corner of a cement cell, a solitary light bulb swaying from a cord on the ceiling. Duct tape bound her wrists and hands, and a single strip covered her mouth.

"She's awake."

"Good, go get your captain."

A tall muscular man stood over Ziva, his face a terrible mass of scars and burns.

"Hello little blue bird." the man grinned, the scars making his face seem to dance. "How about a candy hmm?" The man leaned forwards, his teeth glinting in the faint light.

"Candy man! Away from her!"

Taras stood in the door way of the cell.

"Sorry. I just love the little birds." the man winked at Ziva and walked out.

"Sorry about that." Taras pulled a metal chair into the center of the cell and sat. "He's not quite right in the head." Taras leaned forwards and gently removed the duct tape from Ziva's mouth.

"Where's Abby?" Ziva gasped, her voice hoarse.

"Miss. Scuito is safe. She is in the cell adjoining."

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing that should concern you. We need to have a conversation Miss David. Your father has decided to make it a point to make my life difficult and a person in my position cannot afford that. What do you think I should do?"

A sleek black pistol slid from a holster on Taras's shoulder

"You're going to kill me?"

"Do you think I should?" Taras's index finger gently flicked off the safety catch of the weapon. Ziva stared transfixed as he rose to feet and very slowly drew back the hammer of the pistol.

"No!"

" Killing you would solve so many problems Miss David. You're father would submit to me for one."

"My father would hunt you down and kill you!"

"You place far to much on the love your father has for you Miss. David. He has given up far more than family in defense of his Promised Land. Your father values the business relationship he and I have far more than he does your existence I am sorry to say." Ziva felt her heart beating like a drum inside her chest. She was going to die. The bullet would go into her brain and her life would be snuffed out like a candle.

"Goodbye Miss David. It has been a pleasure." Taras raised the gun and smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Sir. A Mr. David here to see you."

"Show him in."

Taras lowered the pistol and returned it to his shoulder holster.

"You lead a charmed life Miss. David."

"What the hell is going on!" Eli David entered the cell, his eyes hard, two nervous looking Mossad agents trailing after him.

"Ah Director. I was just talking to your daughter about our business arrangement."

"Untie her now!"

"I was simply trying to make a point Mr. David. I am not the Chechen, you will not treat me like the next kidnapping will not be a drill."

"My apologies for offending you Mr. Stanislavsky."

"Apology accepted. Take your daughter and her friend home."

"Thank you Mr. Stanislavsky."

"Take care Mr. David."

The two Mossad agents pulled Ziva to her feet, and she walked from the cell into the daylight and heat of Tel Aviv.

Eli David groaned inwardly as his daughter yelled.

"He was going to kill me! You do business with these people and let them boss you around! You're the fucking head of Mossad! You could get all these bastards killed!"

"No I fucking can't!" Eli David roared. "Do you honestly think I simply let a criminal like that live in Israel free of charge?"

Ziva fell silent at her father's sudden outburst.

"Taras Stanislavsky has supplied Mossad with intel on Taliban, Hamas, and Al Quaeda operations more solid than anything we've had in the past twenty years. He sells them guns then sells them out to us. He is keeping this country aware of almost all the activity in the Middle East. If it involves guns or violence he knows about it. We cannot afford to lose Taras. It's taken a full three years for me to buy the bastard as it is. So don't fucking tell me what to do in my business dealings with Mr. Stanis-fucking-lavsky."

Eli David rubbed his eyes gently.

"I am sorry Ziva. You must understand that Taras is not some street thug or gun smuggler. He is a Spetznaz agent who not only went rogue, but took his team with him and then evaded capture by the Russian GRU. It takes quite alot of skill to manage that. He now runs all Middle Eastern operations for the Vory v Zakone..."

"Who?"

"Russian Mafia, the Thieves by Law. Taras is one of twenty captains working under a crime boss called "The Father". The Father has some anti terrorist leanings. His son was killed in the 9/11 attacks and Taras does the old man's dirty work. The last guy to have the Mid East post was called the Chechen. Poor man was found with his body in seven different pieces. Someone had taken a chainsaw to him. Taras replaced him and since then we've seen half as many rockets falling on Israel. Something that man is doing is making some very dangerous men very scared. He's a bit of a hero in this office Ziva, don't insult the man."

"Father." Ziva nodded coldly, glaring daggers at the old man. She turned on her heel and marched out of the office.

She spent the next couple hours in the Mossad gym, sparring with various agents who she left battered and bruised. Her clothes stuck to her body, and she was short of breath when she finally walked out of the gym. She walked out into the early evening, the crisp air cooling the sweat on her skin. As she walked across to the car she used whenever she saw her father, she saw a face she had hoped never to see again.

"Back away." Ziva drew her pistol so quickly she nearly dropped it.

"Whoa...put weapon away please." Taras replied. "I am here to talk only. If you wish you may search me."

"I know you have a gun."

"No, but the man on the roof across the street with the Barrett is getting rather nervous. Please point that somewhere else."

"What do you want?"

Taras's face darkened. "I did not want our first meeting to go the way it did. It is poor form to hit a woman."

"Do not patrocide."

"Patronize."

"Whatever. Don't do it."

"Apologies. I understand you are nervous but could you please put away the gun, I really wish I had my sidearm."

"Fine." Ziva lowered her gun slowly. "Why are you here?"

"To apologize. As I said, I don't attempt to hit women."

"You don't seem like someone who would be bothered by something like that."

"If one sins against god, one might as well have morals." Taras smirked. "I am what you could call a killer with standards."

"You do not amuse."

"As you say."

Ziva glared.

"What does the bullseye tattoo mean?"

"Which tattoo?"

"The one on the back of your head."

"Oh, that is a very old tattoo. How did you notice it?"

"I saw it in the Interrogation at NCIS."

"Oh that's right, you where there. You dislocated my shoulder. The tattoo is a warning."

"Meaning?"

"If you shoot, don't miss. Good night Miss David, welcome to Tel Aviv."