A/N: Hey everyone. I just wanted to say thanks for the reviews, story alerts and favorites for this story. It means a lot and really provides the motivation to keep writing. Feel free to continue to review with likes or dislikes. The story (as indicated by the title) is beginning to wind down. I hope you enjoy it.

And what's up with this whole NCIS spin off?!?

Ch. 8 Showdown Part 1

"McGee! Do you have a trace yet?" yelled Tony through gritted teeth. The three agents were at McGee's apartment. They'd left Christopher LaFaye at the security center and left an alert for The Old Guard. They also called the Metro bomb squad with an anonymous tip to sweep the cemetery. McGee started working on a trace for Tony's cell phone as soon as they reached his place and Ziva was properly dressing Tony's shoulder wound. He would swear that the disinfectant hurt more than the bullet.

"Not yet Tony. There's some kind of weird interference. The single is all over the place. I can't get a fix." Responded McGee as his fingers flew like fire over one of the many keyboards in his apartment. Silenced ensued until McGee interrupted it five minutes later with a yell of frustration loud enough to rival Tony's.

"Tony! What the heck is wrong with your phone? I still can't get a fix."

"Watch you mouth McMuddled! I don't know why it's not working! Yfou're the MIT grad with the computer knowledge. You're supposed to know what to do."

"Well, I can't get a fix. I have no idea where they are. And it's your freakin' phone Tony! The reason's for malfunctions may be endless!"

The two agents seemed ready to duke it out. However, Ziva would have none of it.

"HEY! Enough of this. McGee, please keep trying. Tony, just sit down and let me finish with your shoulder!" Tony went pack to the bathroom and sat down on the closed toilet seat with a huff. The silence was only broken by McGee's rapid tapping until Ziva's phone rang.

"David," she answered.

"Ah, Ziva, how lovely it is to hear your voice free of hostility." Abdul had regained his previously cool demeanor and was continuing the addressing of Ziva in Arabic. Ziva looked at the caller id and swore. It was Tony's phone.

"Ah Ziva. Such language does not befit a lady of your character. You really should not let the Americans effect you so. It only brings about...weakness. Yes, foul words are the escape of a weaker mind. It is not becoming."

"What do you want Abdul?"

"Finally, it comes out. Now I shall tell you. I want you Ziva. You and I have much to discuss. So this is how it shall be: You must meet me in the warehouse district. Warehouse number thirty four. You may be accompanied to the door, but you must enter alone. You may have only one knife and absolutely no bulletproof vest; this must be kept interesting. Should you reach the back of the warehouse alive, then we shall talk. Leroy's fate lies in your capable hands." The line went dead.

"McGee," McGee continued typing, not having heard Ziva, lost in his world.

"MCGEE!"

"What Ziva! You asked me to try I'm trying. I'm sorry I'm not faster, I'm trying..." McGee was flustered with pressure and worried for Gibbs. Ziva walked over to Tim and removed his hands from his keyboard and held them firmly to keep his attention.

"Tim, I know you are trying. But you no longer need to. I know where Gibbs is. Abdul is responsible for not letting you get a fix on Tony's phone. It is not your fault." McGee seemed to be appeased by Ziva's gentle words.

"Now sit. Tony, come here." Tony and McGee sat on McGee's couch as Ziva paced back and forth in front of them. She knew exactly what Abdul wanted and why it was she alone that could enter the warehouse. All of sudden, Gibbs' parting words made perfect sense and she clung to them like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood.

"Abdul has just told me that they are at the warehouse district. Warehouse number thirty four."

"Then why are we still sitting here?" Tony cried out. He anxious for Abdul's game to be over.

"It is not so simple Tony. As always, he's laid out rules. I am to enter the warehouse alone. One knife and nothing bulletproof."

"No," said Tony simply, "Not gonna happen. No way. This guy is too dangerous. For one you're not going in there alone and two, you're not going in without protective gear. It's not happening!"

"Tony it must. You see, Abdul does not fear death. Rest assured, he will blow up the warehouse if we break his rules. Then all of this fight will have been in vain. You see, Abdul...Abdul wants me dead Tony. He wants Gibbs dead too. We do not both have to die. Especially since I killed Ari. I am responsible for both counts on which Abdul wishes Gibbs and I dead. It has to be me."

Tony sat silent. He wanted to argue, to rage, tof demand that Ziva stay back, safe. But he knew it would be futile. Ziva was right. If anyone could handle Abdul and get through it, it was Ziva. Instead, he forced himself into team leader mode.

"McGee. Go to the warehouse. I want an infrared reading of the inside. If Ziva has such demands on her it's because there's probably some obstacle she has to get through to get to Abdul. Set up a perimeter so we can watch her at all times." McGee nodded once and began to gather equipment. Within fifteen minutes, he was out of his apartment.

"Ziva, it's time to start cashing in some favors. Gibbs gone is not our problem anymore. It's an NCIS problem. We need to make calls. I want every single available field agent to set up a perimeter around the warehouse district. It needs to be cleared, save ware house thirty four. I want Jardine in on this. She, McGee and myself will be around the warehouse, watching your back from the outside." Tony went into McGee room to make his calls. It took forty five minutes for Tony to finish with his calls. Ziva was still pacing when he walked back into the room, now with her eyes closed and muttering in Hebrew. Tony stood watching her until the expression on Ziva's face turned to one of pain and anger. He went to stand in front of her and did not move when she lightly bumped into him. Still without opening her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. He just held her in his arms. The two were simply content in each others arms and so no words were spoken that they might accidentally adulterate this last moment of peace.

"Tony, I do not want to die. But, if I do...I want you to know I love you." Mumbled Ziva into Tony's neck. Tony squeezed her harder, fighting the tears he didn't want to shed.

"Hey, hey. Don't talk like that Zee. You're not gonna die. I will not let you die. Because I love you too and we have way too much life ahead of to let it be cut short by someone else." After awhile they stepped apart from each other.

"Well, I guess it's time Zee."