Chapter 24

Zahara smiled a little as she peeked into the space where they'd been hiding for most of this ride. She and the children had been given permission to come out onto the deck as long as they stayed down and out of everyone's way. She was happy to do so and it was good for the kids. However, Tim's motion sickness had reared its head and after throwing up a few times (much to the delight of the crew of the ship), he had lay down on the blankets and hadn't moved in a while. Omar was sitting with Salma and Jonathan for the moment and so Zahara went over to her husband and knelt down beside him.

"Tim? How are you feeling?"

Tim groaned and didn't open his eyes. "Horrible. ...but at least, that's all physical at the moment."

She stroked his forehead and he opened his eyes and managed a weak smile.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"A few more hours. Suhayl said we will be able to get to shore after sunset."

"I haven't been on a boat in a long time. I forgot how miserable I feel."

"Did you forget, really?"

Tim smiled. "I remembered, just not the exact... horrible feeling."

"You are not throwing up."

"Yeah, I get to the point where I can manage, but without feeling well."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, he smiled when Zahara handed him one of their water bottles.

"You should at least drink some water," she said.

"Thanks." He took a long drink and then looked around.

"Where are the kids?" he asked, sounding worried.

"With Omar. I will go back out with them. Don't worry."

"That's impossible," Tim said softly. "I'll never stop worrying."

"For now, Tim, we're as good as we can be. Nothing will change in the next few hours. Just try to relax. It will help you feel better."

Tim closed his eyes again and lay back. He was definitely pale, but it was almost a relief to have something so simple as seasickness be the problem. She was very worried about when Tim would breakdown and how severe it would be. She knew he would, but he could suppress it for a while and the only question was really how long. As long as they all stayed safe, the breakdown would probably be manageable. ...but if anything happened...

That was why, while part of her wanted to rush and take their chances, she would go this cautious way under Suhayl's direction. If she was wrong, Tim might be pushed too far. It was hard and it tore at her heart that this wonderful trip was now so horrible.

However, for now, she had to set all that aside and focus on her family and especially her children.

She smiled as she crouched down on the deck beside Salma and Jonathan. Omar had pulled out a length of string and was doing a cat's cradle. As she watched, she saw the first sign of a normal human being in their CIA guard.

"All right, Salma," he said, patiently. "Can you find the x's?"

Salma looked intently at the string and then nodded.

"Good. Take hold of each x with your thumb and your pointer finger. Squish the x."

Salma smiled and did as she was told. Then, she carefully brought her small hands around the string and came up underneath Omar's hands as he gently released the string. For a moment, Salma had success, but then, her smaller hands just couldn't keep control of the string and it unraveled.

"I can't keep it right!" she complained.

Zahara noticed that some of the crew were smiling at the children. She wondered how long it had been since they had seen children play. ...or since they had played themselves.

"You'll get better as you practice," Omar said. Then, he looked at Zahara and he must have read her expression. He actually looked a little sheepish. "It keeps them occupied."

"It does, thank you."

"How is Agent McGee?"

"Glad that the ride on the boat is almost over."

Omar smiled a bit.

"Can you do cat's cradle?" he asked.

"Some. I am not an expert."

"I don't think anyone is, but why don't you take over."

"I will. Thank you."

Omar shook his head. "No. This is my job, ma'am. I was part of the rescue team for your husband three years ago. I saw him then. No one who has an ounce of humanity would want to see him in that state again."

Then, he eased himself away from the small group and clearly went back on guard duty. Zahara was surprised at what he said. She accepted the guards they had and she accepted that they were needed, but she had never really thought that they were doing anything but their jobs in guarding this small family. It appeared there was more to it than that and to see this stern and rigid man kindly playing cat's cradle with Salma changed her conception of him.

"Mama, show me the cat's cradle!" Salma said.

"Me, too!" Jonathan begged.

"Very well. Let me see. Perhaps if I made the string a little shorter you could hold it better."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs stayed in the bedroom for most of the day. He didn't feel easy being in this house, any more than Levi and Tamara probably did about him being here. However, he also had the problem of the fact that he didn't have any of his usual activities to hand either. As much as he wanted to be here in case Tim called, he genuinely didn't want to cause any extra burden on the Carews.

So at the moment, he was sitting and sketching out a new project for Tim to start when he got back, something that might help him regain the equilibrium he'd surely lost.

A new desk for his typewriter. The desk he had was fine, but one he built would be better. However, Gibbs had never built a desk before, so he needed to figure something special out... that wouldn't be too difficult for Tim (and likely Gibbs) to manage with the hand tools Gibbs used.

He heard a knock at the door, but he didn't move from the room. He heard low voices but he didn't really bother trying to eavesdrop. It wasn't his business who came to visit the Carews. He just kept sketching, deciding whether or not there should be drawers and other details.

Then, there were footsteps outside the bedroom and Gibbs looked up as the door opened and he suppressed a smile at the sight of Ducky standing there with an incredulous look on his face.

"Jethro, what in the world are you doing here?" he asked.

Gibbs looked down at his sketchpad and then back up at Ducky.

"Drawing," he said.

Ducky looked a little exasperated and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the bed.

"Jethro, why are you here? Do you really trust Levi so little that you think he'll keep any information from you? After all this time?"

"No."

"Then, why insist on imposing yourself on them?"

Gibbs took a breath.

"So I can still be a part of it," he said, honestly.

"Why would you think you wouldn't be?" Ducky asked.

"Because I'm here. Not in Egypt."

"You probably could have insisted on going along," Ducky said. "There might have been protest but you haven't let it stop you before."

Gibbs smiled a little and then sighed.

"Carew's not the only one feeling old, Ducky."

Ducky smiled sympathetically.

"Did you think you couldn't keep up?"

"I knew I couldn't."

Ducky reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

"There's no shame in getting older, Jethro. It happens to the best and worst of us."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Nevertheless, you do realize that you've put the Carews in quite an awkward position."

"Yeah. Why do you think I'm staying in here?"

"Well, since you're here. Why not come out and join us for tea? That's my purpose in being here so you wouldn't be imposing that far."

Gibbs looked at his sketchpad and then at Ducky. He shrugged.

"All right."

He set the pad down and then followed Ducky out into the living room.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony looked up as Ziva and the other agent walked into the hotel room. Two dead agents lay on the floor, both had been shot. Ziva gave him a silent questioning look.

"There's another dead guy out on the balcony... with a knife in his eye...and he's not CIA."

Ziva's eyes widened and she strode out to the balcony where the dead man lay. She knelt down and looked at him carefully.

"This man is not Arab," she said. "He is not Berber. He is not Egyptian."

She looked at the agent who was also examining the body.

"Russian?" she suggested.

"Tatar, I think," he said. "A little hard to tell at the moment."

Tony walked over and joined them.

"Three CIA agents are dead, plus the guy at Ahmed's place. Two met up with us. One is missing."

"With Tim?" Ziva asked.

"That's what we're hoping," Edwards said as he walked out on the balcony. "The Egyptian police weren't happy that we were here, but we bribed them to let us take over. That doesn't give us an unlimited amount of time. I've reported to the Director, so we need to find out what we need in order to track down where Agent McGee and his family have gone."

"What about the two agents who survived?" Ziva asked.

"They were busy holding off the invaders and didn't get a chance to regroup. They didn't see what happened in the room. Mokrani?"

"No evidence of where he was taken," Ziva said. "Only that he was taken alive."

"Boy, this is a mess," Edwards said. "We go for years without trouble, everything working like it's supposed to and then, suddenly, it all hits the fan and you'd think we never get anything right."

Then, he stalked back into the room. Ziva gave Tony a warning glance. No snide remarks right now. Tony rolled his eyes but then, he stood up.

"Their stuff is all here."

"Yes, of course," Ziva said.

"We're taking it. All of it. Then, when we find them, they'll won't have lost that much."

"Very well. It might be a small thing, but I think they'll appreciate it."

Ziva walked into the room and began to pack up their things, noting that there were no IDs or passports. They had taken those with them. That they'd had that much time to think about what they were doing was significant.

"Tony, they were able to pack some things," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that they took their passports. I know that Tim had bought some water bottles with filters on them. I don't see those here."

Tony looked around and nodded. "They were escaping... but not instantly. They had time to do something. They were warned."

"But not by the CIA," Ziva said. She looked at one of the agents. "Who warned them that this was coming?"

"I don't know. Seems like we were kind of caught with our pants down, doesn't it?"

Ziva smiled at the description.

"Perhaps, but... they weren't rushing out of here. So someone told them."

"And it wasn't us. At least, I haven't heard that it was us. The message came to the people at the front door. Outside help. From whom?"

"Hammami, we got something down by the pool," another nameless agent said, poking his head into the room.

Slowly, they were getting names, even if they hadn't bothered to ask for them.

They joined Hammami as he got up and followed the other agent down to the pool area. The agent led them over to a gate that seemed to lead out of the resort. He gestured at the gate.

There was a small scratch in the paint. OB

"Omar Badawi. He's the missing agent," Hammami said. "So they came through here. Any other message?"

"None yet. Just started looking though."

"Keep at it. Edwards is in a foul mood right now and I don't want to aggravate him by having nothing."

"Right."

Tony and Ziva followed Hammami back into the room and they continued gathering up the McGees' things, noting all the souvenirs, evidence that they'd been having a good time before all this.

"Will Tim be able to handle this?" Ziva asked softly.

"I hope so," Tony said, equally softly.

They made sure that they didn't miss anything that belonged to Tim and his family. Then, they joined the CIA agents as they continued to look for clues into where the McGees had gone and what had happened to Ahmed.