Anyone who lives in America and turns their TV on occasionally most likely knows about the two year old missing girl in Florida. Her name is Caylee Anthony and she was missing for over six months. Police found a skeletal frame of a small child a half mile from her home and today the DNA results have come back that those were the remains of Caylee Anthony. I had no real connection to this girl except that I have been following her story since the minute I heard about it, hoping and praying that she could return home. The story really tugged at my heart as I'm sure it did for many people. The family is in my thoughts and prayers and I ask that you keep them in yours too. This sweet little girl will be greatly missed and I myself have shed a few tears over the loss of her precious life.

Rest in peace Caylee Anthony. The missing angel who was tragically found. 3

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"So how do we go about this?" Tony asks as the three agents sit outside of the main Mossad building.

"It's an office building, DiNozzo. Not a storage cell for bombs," Gibbs says.

"Well I know that, but I mean, we can't just go charging into the building saying that the director has kidnapped his daughter and that we demand he returns her or we shoot them. Honestly I don't think it would work very well."

"What gives you that feeling?" Gibbs asks him sarcastically. Trying to formulate a plan while there is someone next to you asking ridiculous questions was not something Gibbs was good at.

"Uh, we could just say we want to talk the director, couldn't we?" McGee asks and then tries to find an error in that suggestion which he knew Gibbs would.

"You don't think he would figure something out when they tell him that NCIS wants to talk to him? He's Ziva's father and he's trying to kill her, McGee."

"Well yes, boss I know that Mossad are highly intelligent but-"

"I meant that he's her father and he may be trying to kill her but he's not stupid."

"We could tell them that we're FBI," McGee says trying to redeem himself.

"With NCIS badges?" Gibbs questions and is just about ready to tell everyone to shut up when an idea comes to him. "That's actually not a bad idea McGee."

"What? I, uh I thought that you said about the badges and um different letters," McGee stutters out and Tony really wants to clamp a hand over his mouth but is more interested about what Gibbs has to say.

"We could have Abby send us over fake FBI ID cards."

"But our badges..."

"Don't say NCIS, just 'special agent'," Gibbs says.

"I'll call Abby," McGee says and grabs his rented Israeli cell phone and begins to dial the number to Abby's lab.

"That was a good idea, Gibbs," Tony tells him pleased that they, well Gibbs, had figured something out to get one step closer to getting Ziva and bringing her home.

"It wasn't like you were coming up with any," Gibbs says and puts the truck into drive directing it back to the motel.

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"We do not need to tell my savta of this, do we?" Hannah asks becoming fearful at just the thought of what her savta would say if she found out that not only had she been not only helpful but that she had also cried. In front of complete strangers at that.

"We do not have to tell anyone, Hannah," Ducky reassures the girl who smiles gratefully at him.

"To da."

"Al Lo Davar," Ducky replies. After a few years with Ziva he had picked up quite a few Hebrew phrases, and Ducky, being Ducky, had already known a few terms here or there.

"What's your Ima's name?" Abby asks. They knew who her father was but no one knew who her mother or grandmother was.

"Ailish, but whenever we are out we are s'posed to call her Deliah."

"Does your Ima work at the same place your Aba did?"

"Do you mean Mossad or Hamas?" she asks and Ducky and Abby exchange looks. How much did she know about these operations?

"Either."

"Mossad but she is rah me'od," Hannah tells them and Abby turns to Ducky hoping that he knew the meaning of the Hebrew words.

"Very bad," Ducky tells her.

"What makes her bad, Hannah?" Abby asks her and Hannah shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She did not like to talk about her parents or grandparents. She didn't like to talk about anything in Israel.

"She is betraying. Will they shoot her too?" Hannah questions. Even if her mother may never be around and even though she has done many bad things Hannah did not want her to die too. Wasn't loosing a father enough?

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Ziva glared at the man who led her down the hallway with a gun pressed to her back as a reminder of just what her conditions were. The restless night had turned to a dreaded day and now at 0530, even before the sun was up, she was being leaded to an unfamiliar place. Whatever it was Ziva was sure that it had something to do with her father and that he would most definitely be present, what his intentions were was what was still unclear. For all she knew they could be having breakfast or he could be standing there with a gun pointed at her ready to kill her. It did not really matter since she had no choice but to go. The hand cuffs had once again been placed around her wrists and there were two men other than the one with the gun pointed at her walking along side her. Her father certainly knew to not underestimate her, after all he was the one who trained her.

Her arm muscles were sore from being handcuffed all day and her head was hurting almost as much as when she had that hangover, well maybe not quite that much. She honestly did not even think that she would even bother to try and get away, there really was no point to it. She gets away maybe even make it back to America and then the same thing happens all over again, or they just shoot her and end it the easy way. Last night Ziva ran through every possible scenario of how this could go and it always ended up with either her or someone she cared about getting hurt. That is in all the realistic scenarios. The ones where her father pulled her into a hug and apologized for all he had done and then demoted Michael to toilet cleaner were nothing more then her own wishful thinking. The ones where she was harshly beaten and then died from bleeding to death or where she was mocked and spit on before being hung for her supposed betrayal, those were the realities of what could happen. Those were things she had seen happen. Sometimes wishful thinking is better.

One of the guards open a door and ushers her inside. It is a simple room with a table and two chairs, one across from the other. Two cups filled with tea were in front of each place. As of right now she was the only one in the room and before she was seated the handcuffs were removed. Once again she sat there enduring silence as the guards stared at her God only knows what they expected her to do if they blinked. Ziva lifted one of her wrists to examine just how deep the cuts were from the irritation of the handcuffs. They weren't deep but they were very sensitive, like a paper cut or a hang nail. They are the sort of injury that really should not hurt at all but actually sting the most. Just like things that happen in life, words that are said or actions that are done and should barely leave an emotional mark on us can actually scar us for life, can hurt the most whether the pain was intentional or not.

The door opens again and she hears her father's voice dismissing the guards then he appears in front of her and takes the seat across from hers. "Shalom, bat," he says and Ziva considers the absurdity that shalom means not only hello but also goodbye and it also means peace. The ways that that could be deciphered were endless. So many meanings in one word yet they can all connect. Zive does not answer him, just stares. Stares at him with hate and with pure despise. She hides her fear and her sadness, she will not give him the contentment of seeing those feelings. "Are you going to ignore me or will you speak?" he asks and Ziva has no intention of answering him. "Very well then. I will talk." ZIva fears what he will say, she wants to prolong it but knows that she can not. "You have one last mission for Mossad that you must carry out."

"Last?" Ziva questions. No one got out of Mossad unless her father was planning on blaming the terrorist attack on her. Maybe having her jailed? He takes a folder that was next to him and pushes it over to her side. Hesitantly she lifts the cover of the folder and skims it's contents. "You want me to be the one who carries out the terrorist attack?" Ziva questions and looks back down at the papers for the rest of the information. He wanted her to go to the upcoming Presidential dinner that was being held in a few weeks and he wanted her to go there with a bomb strapped to her chest and he wanted her to kill everyone at that dinner including herself. "You want me to be a suicide bomber?" Ziva no longer cared as fear built up inside of her. Anger was still there, as was hatred but there was no ignoring the fear she felt. How could her father expect her to do such a thing? "No." That was the only word she could say. What difference would it make if she were to die by being a suicide bomber in a couple weeks or if she died by being shot this moment.

"It was not a request. It is a demand."

"No," she refused to have anything to do with his ridiculous plans that would ruin his relationships with America forever. Why did he even want to do such a thing?

"Do not make this difficult Ziva," he warns but she simply shakes her head.

"No. You want to shoot me? Go ahead but I will not be the one who carries out your insane desires!" Ziva could honestly not believe what he wanted her to do. Did he actually think she would do such a thing?

"It is your responsibility to Carry this out. We are family."

"Family? That ended when you tried to kill me and my partner," Ziva tells him.

"I did not wish to resort to this. Please know that, bat," he says and then takes the folder back flipping to the back of it and pulling out five photos all with gun shot targets on their heads. Ducky. Abby. McGee. Gibbs. Tony. "I will shoo them also if you do not fully coop orate."

Ziva stared at the photos that showed her that every single one of the people she cared for could be killed so easily. But how could she possibly go kill the president and hundreds, possibly thousands more? There had to be a way around this, had to be a different path. He would have to let her back in the US in order to carry this out, right? She would be able to inform officials and figure this out but she would not, could not, sacrifice her friends. Ziva knew what she had to do. "Yes."

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This chapter didn't go the way I had planned it to that's for sure. Sorry if it's a little rough on the writing quality it was a hard chapter to write for some strange reason and a hard day over all. I also apologize for it being on the short side. I just must ask once again that you please keep Caylee's family in your thoughts and prayers as I know I will. Her story has really touched me and I am glad that this is all over but I am also so very devastated by the outcome of it.

Thanks once again to all of my reviewers. Have a great weekend!