14 An international incident

They go at a run and pick up the MPs from the gate. But the coffee shop is packed, and the user at their target computer is a teenaged girl. She yells out something in Spanish as they pull her away from the machine and then bursts into tears.

Cosgrove's Spanish is pretty good. She calms the girl down enough to get a story. "She says she's only been on the machine a few minutes. The café's always crowded at this hour. She says the user before her was a young man, mid 20s, blond. He didn't speak to her."

"Was he wearing long sleeves?"

Sarah frowns, but she asks anyway. "Yes, she thinks so."

It's not a woman's crime, Gibbs thinks, but bad guys have girlfriends. "I'm taking her in anyway. And I want that computer. Now."

Sarah talks to the other users in the area and only a few have any description at all; even those who noticed the man say he had only been on for a few minutes. Believe them? Or haul them all in? There's a drop in a few hours and so little preparation done.

"Get the computer, McGee. Cosgrove, you get the name and check the ID of everyone in here. Put one MP on the door and get the other to help. No one leaves until you're done."

"Gibbs, they don't have to show their IDs to us. And we can't legally detain them."

"How do you catch anyone around here? Cosgrove, you tell them a little girl has been kidnapped, and the son of a bitch that did it was sitting right there. If they want that girl on their conscience, they can keep their damned IDs. McGee, let's go."

McGee carries the computer and Gibbs drags the girl. Now there's a crowd on the street, booing and jeering. DiNozzo was wrong: he can't play ugly American flatfoot the way Gibbs can.

Back in interrogation, Gibbs is faced with a problem he hadn't considered: the girl claims to speak no English. "Ziva, I shouldn't do this to you. But can you talk to her?"

"Of course."

And Ziva, whose nerves must be long past the snapping point, talks gently to the girl, explaining the situation without mentioning that it is her little girl missing. The girl dries her tears but can't give a better description. She gives Ziva her contact information, Ziva calls her parents, and lets the girl go.

Gibbs watches from observation. He is torn between anger at himself, knowing that he'd lost control in the coffee house, and at the perp. A pro, and a cruel one. The taunting nature of the email, sending it from so close to the base, makes his blood run cold. Becks had been alive a few hours ago, but would such a man really let her go? Gibbs is in a foreign country, he has few resources, and there's no one he can really rely on. Abby and McGee are great technical supports, but he needs what Sarah would call a real police—someone who could watch his six but still pull him back. And why the hell hasn't Ducky called?

"Abby," he says.

"Working on the ink bomb."

"We need food."

"We do indeed."

"You think there's Chinese around?"

"Gibbs. There are Americans here. Of course there's Chinese."

"Find it. Get a lot of here. Before I create another international incident."

While they wait for the food, McGee prints out satellite maps of the drop zone. "There's a clearing right there. We can have pretty good surveillance."

"They'll have good surveillance, too. She'll be a sitting duck."

"Boss, are you really sending Ziva?"

"I don't know, Tim. I don't have many options here."

"Sarah's a pretty close match. Similar height and build. Long dark hair."

"Sarah doesn't have much experience. If anything goes wrong, she won't be able to get herself out of it."

"I'm not sure Ziva's in any state to get herself out of trouble, either."

Between the sword and the wall. If it goes badly, and Ziva is killed, he'll never forgive himself. What if Ziva has been a target all along? What if they've been wasting time running down stale NCIS cases? Perhaps it's not too late to call Eli David… But if Ziva doesn't go, and Rebecca isn't recovered, she'll never get over it. Gibbs knows that angle too well. "I'll think about it."

"It's the Kobayashi Maru," McGee says.

"I don't eat sushi, McGee."

"It's, um, Star Trek, for impossible ethical problem. Sorry, boss."

"Can we get live satellite coverage of the drop site? Infrared?"

"Maybe. But only from No Such Agency."

Gibbs groans. "I guess I'm calling Vance again."

Eating Chinese in the squadroom: So close to a thousand other nights and yet so wrong. There are strangers among them and one missing. At 10, the money arrives. Abby shows off her money bomb. "Of course we've got GPS in the suitcase and in some of the bundles. The ink bomb has a timer and a remote detonator. So you don't trigger it till the bad guy takes it, and it doesn't go off for another two hours."

"That's assuming he doesn't take the money out of the suitcase."

Abby smiles. "It's in the money, Gibbs, and I mean in the money. He'll be blue tomorrow. Dark blue. I can't wait to see the pattern. That picture is definitely going on the lab wall."

At 10:30, Ziva stands. "Do you have an earwig for me, Abby? We should go. I need to stop by the hospital first."

"Are you sure about this, Ziva?" Gibbs asks. "Sarah could pass for you."

"And of course I want to," Sarah says.

Ziva shakes her head. "I have to do this."

Abby says softly, "Are you sure Tony would want you to?"

"He would absolutely not want me to. And he would absolutely do it himself."