Terrorist Camp – Somalia.

The room where she was held was stark and bare but cool and she was glad for that small mercy. The midday sun blared through the semi-circular window that lit the room. Thankfully now she was able to sit in the shadows and avail of the shade. She had no idea how long she had been captive in that room. She was sure it was several days at least. The first few days were a blur. She remembered being tied to a chair and the beatings. It was always the same guy, day after day, who would beat her. She remembered his breath. He smelt of cigarette smoke she noticed each time he stuck his face close to hers. He would come and demand information on NCIS. He seemed to know her though she couldn't figure out how. How could he know that she worked with NCIS? She tried to figure it out, to make sense of what was going on but her brain refused to work. She knew that she was more than likely concussed from the repeated punches to the head and face that she had endured. Her eyes were swollen almost shut. Her left cheek was extremely painful which led her to believe that it could be broken. The beatings and torture continued for days to no avail. She refused to speak. Her torturer was growing more and more frustrated by the day. She meanwhile grew weaker and weaker. He feared that he would kill her before extracting the information that he needed so he ordered that she be untied and given water and food. That was a day or two ago, she thought. Her training led her to expect that once she regained her strength it would start again. She allowed herself to shed a painful tear. She was scared and alone.

She thought of Gibbs and DiNozzo, McGee and Abby, her friends. She missed them. She was sorry that she would never see them again, sorry that their final few days were filled with suspicion and lies. She regretted that she would never get to say the things that she had always meant to say. It wasn't supposed to end like this. But at that moment, she wished that it would – end.

Norfolk Naval Air Station

Gibbs paid the taxi driver and walked to the main gate. There he met Fornell and they were taken to a hanger for a mission briefing. When they entered, Gibbs was stunned to see McGee and DiNozzo, minus his sling, standing chatting to some SEALs. He was furious and thundered over towards them.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he demanded loudly.

"Couldn't have you going all on your own now, Boss," DiNozzo replied cheekily.

"If I wanted you with me I'd have asked," Gibbs pointed out unimpressed.

"Yea, well, we figured that you'd be half way to Africa and then change your mind and by then it would be too late, so we thought we'd save you the trouble and just be here for when you do change your mind," Tony explained failing to control the broad smile that was growing across his face.

"Ah hell, DiNozzo. I can't spend my time looking out for you two over there," Gibbs admitted crossly.

"Nobody's asking you to Boss," McGee responded defiantly before he had time to say anything else. "We're not kids. We've been weapons trained. We can handle ourselves."

Gibbs glared at McGee who shirked noticeably from his glare. He turned to DiNozzo.

"What about you and that arm?"

"I can still hold and fire my weapon. Don't worry about me," he replied confidently.

"Two extra men can't hurt, Jethro," Fornell pointed out.

Gibbs knew he was going to lose this one.

"Come on then. Better get our packs," he said turning towards the group of men checking backpacks and weapons.

Following a mission briefing a group of twenty men including Gibbs, DiNozzo, McGee and Fornell boarded the military cargo plane for their long haul flight to the Indian Ocean. It was a boneshaker of a flight. As usual Gibbs managed to sleep and relax for the duration. DiNozzo was amazed at his ability to sleep under such conditions. Between the unending thunder of the engines, the cold and the bumping, Tony felt on edge through out the whole thing. McGee amused himself by reading and listening to his IPod. Fornell, like Gibbs seemed fairly relaxed and slept on and off. After almost ten hours in the air, one of the pilots came back and told everyone to buckle up as they were approaching the USS Ronald Reagan. Tony knew that landing on the carrier was one of the most dangerous manoeuvres a plane like this could attempt. His blood pressure rose considerably at the thought of it. The descent was bumpy and Tony gripped his seat tightly. A smiled crept across Gibbs face as he watched Tony and saw how nervous he was. Within minutes they bounced onto the deck and then came to a sudden, whiplash inducing, stop as the plane was hooked onto the deck of the carrier.

The sun was high in the sky as they clambered out of the cargo plane. Tony put on his shades and surveyed his former ship. He had been NCIS Agent on Board for a while after Vance had spilt Gibbs' team a couple of years back. Not much had changed. He recognised a few faces, but none were what he'd call friends. Gibbs was anxious to get below deck and finalise the plans for insertion into Somalia. He swung his backpack onto his back and followed one of the crew to their quarters. They were given time to shower and eat and then they had to prepare for the mission.

The plan was to land small craft onto a beach at night. They were then to make their way towards a designated road where there would be a truck waiting. This would be courtesy of Fornell's guys on the ground. Then under cover of darkness they would travel within 2 miles of the camp before leaving the truck and going the rest of the way on foot to avoid detection. At least that was the plan.

A few hours later they gathered in the briefing room for a final run through. They were dressed in fatigues and were being issued their weapons. McGee and DiNozzo felt nervous and a little excited at the same time. They had never been involved in such a military style operation before. It was a major testosterone rush for them as they stood with all these alpha male Navy Seals, preparing for their mission. Gibbs on the other hand was taking it all in his stride, checking his weapons and his pack carefully, having done it all before. He felt at home, his military experience showing.

"All right guys, it's time," the ships commander said from the top of the room. "Make your way topside where you will hitch a ride to the Freedom from where you will board small motor craft to take you to the coast. God speed," he said humbly.

The twenty men gathered their equipment and trudged to the sea deck to the waiting Seahawk helicopter. The moon offered little light as they climbed on board. They sat in silence as the noise from the rotors grew and they took off. Glances were exchanged as nerves began to twinge. McGee watched in awe as the Seals chilled out and joked and laughed and he wished he could feel as relaxed as they did. Truth be told his stomach was in his boots and he was starting to regret ever listening to Tony. This was not going to be easy. They might not come back from this one he realised. But then he thought of Ziva and remembered why he agreed to do this in the first place. Ziva was still a member of their team and needed their help. He wasn't going to let her down so he sucked it up and sat fists clenched, ready to take on whatever was thrown at him.

Tony knew McGee was nervous. Why wouldn't he be? It was only natural. They were flying into the unknown. He too felt tense. He was prepared for the physical aspect of the mission. He knew there would be fire fights and more than likely casualties. He was prepared to find Ziva and get her out of there alive. What he was not prepared for was the possibility that she was already dead. He wouldn't allow himself to even think such a thing. She was alive and she was coming home, that was the only scenario as far as he was concerned.

Gibbs sat facing his two younger agents. He was uneasy, not about the mission as such, more uneasy about the fact that he was leading these two men into a volatile situation that could cost them their lives. He felt protective of them. Despite what he had said back at Norfolk Naval Air Station, he would be watching their backs. They were inexperienced at this type of military action and would need guidance. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the seat. He remembered Ziva's face as he left her on the tarmac in Tel Aviv. She was stunned as he turned his back on her. He hoped she knew that it was for her own good. She had trust issues and he needed her to figure those out for herself. He wanted her back on his team but he also wanted his team to remain intact. Transferring anyone to another team was not on the table as far as he was concerned. His team worked. He'd like it to stay that way. He felt guilty for leaving her behind and blamed himself for the mess she was now in. He hoped they would find her because if anything happened to her he would never forgive himself.

The flight took a little over thirty minutes. They touched down on the USS Freedom which was patrolling Somali waters. There was little time for exchanges of any kind as the team was transferred immediately to two small motorised landing craft. Within minutes their gear was stowed and they were being lowered over the side into the calm waters of the Indian Ocean.

TBC