10 The hard part

Gibbs sends Allen back to the office. This part he has to do alone.

There are two MPs standing outside the ICU unit. Ziva sits beside Ducky, who pats her hand. "Look who's here, my dear," he says. "Everything's well in hand now."

She rises. Gibbs puts his hands on her shoulders, feels how tight and fragile she is. He understands only too well the look in her eyes. They are more dead and farther away than when they had found her in Somalia. She says, "I think I understand you a little better now."

"It's not over."

"Isn't it?" She pulls herself together. "You want to question me, of course. I'm surprised that no one else has. I suppose they're afraid to. When something like this happens, everyone becomes afraid. As if it's catching."

They walk down the hall. Gibbs buys them each a cup of coffee from a machine and a chocolate bar for her. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Only ashes," she says, and takes the candy bar. She takes a bite. It is awful, sweet and stale. The coffee is bitter. They balance out somehow.

Gibbs asks, "Does he always take her to school?"

She notes the use of present tense. It's not like Gibbs to be tactful. No, that's not true: she's seen him talk to other witnesses just like this. A pity he's not like this in his off hours. "Tony always takes her to school. I go into work earlier so that I can be home earlier in the afternoon."

"And they're always late."

"Always. Do you know why they're always late? Tony says it's because she always wants to change her shoes. She's just like Tony, so fussy about her clothes." She takes another bite and another swallow. "But that's not the real reason. Every morning I make them a good breakfast, muesli with flax. Flax has omega something and it's good for the heart, and Tony's mother died so young. But they do not like it. Every morning after I'm gone Tony makes them another breakfast. Eggs and toast. She likes the Seville marmalade. Tony thinks I do not know this. He thinks it would hurt my feelings. And so they are late every day."

It is moments like these that make these interviews so terrible: the small, personal details, the things that make one life different from all others, the homely everydayness of love. Gibbs has read the BOLO: White dress with pink and blue flowers, yellow sweater, Hello Kitty backpack, white socks, blue sneakers, tiara. There are similar images that haunt him still, and he knows that these small details of this particular life will be burned into his mind, will follow him to the grave if it can't all be made right.

"Ziva. This is not your fault."

"Isn't it? I have killed people, Gibbs. Tony has killed people. We have angered people. How do you know this isn't my fault?"

"It's not your fault that someone's tried to hurt you," he says. "Ziva. This looks planned. Who would want to do this?"

"Too many people."

"Think. Recently. What's happened?"

"Nothing has happened, Gibbs. We haven't turned up any terrorists. We haven't crossed any gunrunners. We found a chop shop. We have caught a carjacker and some purse snatchers. We have busted some meth cookers on base. We caught a petty officer embezzling. A nurse stealing drugs. Nothing important. Nothing to cause this." She draws a breath. "Saleem."

"That was eight years ago."

"They have long memories. Eli does. He wanted revenge for something that had happened a decade before."

"Have you talked to your father today?"

"He could not help." She frowns. "You can't think he's involved. He would never hurt my Agent Meatball."

"Anything else closer to home? No threats? No strange calls? Nothing out of the ordinary?"

She smiles but there is no mirth. "You are asking if Tony is having an affair. Or if I am having an affair."

"That's not the only possibility."

"But it is the possibility you are worried about. Understandable under the circumstances. You knew us when we were not so-responsible."

"Ziva…"

"No and no. Do you know why I am so certain? Do you know what it is like to be happy after you thought it impossible? After you thought you did not deserve it?"

"No," he says, and changes course. "The principal mentioned a nanny."

"Juana Jimenez. Tony calls her Tia Juana, of course. She has been with us five years. And she is never with us in the morning. She does not know about the lateness."

"We'll go over all the office files. There might be something that's been missed. Who's the best person in the office for that sort of work?"

"Sarah, I think. She is a bit of a McGee. Very smart, very tech, but not a lot of what Tony would call street."

He wishes she would stop saying Tony. No amount of repetition is going to make this any more bearable or any less painful. "Ziva…"

"Gibbs, I can't listen to reassurances from you. Tony is…" She gives up on both the candy bar and the coffee and throws them away. "Rebecca has been gone for ten hours. We both know it's been too long. We both know…"

And then her cell phone rings.

Gibbs's phone rings a split second later. He puts his hand up to stop Ziva. It's McGee. "Ziva has a call coming in from a blocked number, boss."

"We know the drill, McGee. Put it on speaker, Ziva, and keep him talking."

She pushes the green button. And suddenly her world is full of noise: it is Becks. "Mommy, mommy, this is a stupid game. I want to come home."

"Of course, my darling. Where are you?"

"I don't know. Mommy, I think they hurted Babbo."

Becks knows better than to say hurted, and she rarely calls Tony Babbo any more. "It's all right, my darling. Tell me where you are."

And then a male voice, unaccented, she doesn't recognize it, speaking in English. "Five hundred thousand euro. You'll get instructions." And the call is over. Her hand is shaking so badly that Gibbs takes the phone and hangs up. "I didn't keep him talking."

"You couldn't. We're dealing with a pro. He put the proof on upfront."

The proof. For a moment her knees go slack and she thinks she'll fall, but a surge of pure joy straightens her up. "She's alive."

"She's alive."

"We don't have five hundred thousand euro."

Gibbs smiles. "We'll let Vance take care of that."

She goes to Ducky, dear Ducky who has been so kind and patient and who loves Rebecca Victoria so. "She's alive, Ducky. I talked to her. She's alive. They want five hundred thousand euro."

"A bargain," he smiles.

"I should tell Tony." But she hesitates.

"Tell him, my dear. We don't know what people hear when they're sleeping."

"Ducky, he is not sleeping." But her face is transformed, alive again, and she goes into the ICU room to tell Tony that she is going to get Rebecca and to kiss the unscraped side of his face.

Gibbs and Ducky watch. "How did Rebecca sound, Jethro?"

"Scared. Angry. Still in one piece."

"This is far from over, isn't it?"

Gibbs shrugs. "In some parts of the world kidnapping is a business, Ducky. Hostages are returned alive all the time. Particularly a child that can't identify her kidnappers or her location."

"But not here, Jethro, not here. And how often does such a kidnapping begin with a murder attempt?" With a rare fierceness, Ducky says, "You must bring her back, Jethro. You must… Tony's survival is not a sure thing at this point."

"He made it through surgery."

"It's something, but the great danger with this sort of injury is postoperative infection. He's already running a fever. You must find her, Jethro. For all of us."

"Working on it, Duck."