Author's Note: Hey guys, so glad to hear from everyone that's reading. Your reviews are the REAL awesomeness around here! Yeah...that sounded pretty lame... shame on me (slaps wrist). Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. I didn't expect to write one tonight since editing for my final assignment took FOREVER and a DAY (okay, not exactly all day...but nearly all day. Damn macs...damn final cut pro.) Anyway--that's enough of that. Hope you enjoy this chapter...and here's to hoping there's good times in the... possibly near future. :). LATER DAYS--GEEK.
Chapter 18: Campfire
Eight wooden chairs stand on their own in the form of a circle inside of the warehouse. There is plenty of space between each chair as the need for personal space is as important as the slight breezes that finds its way inside.
The humidity is riding Tony's nerves. An image of a spacious shower with a shower-head shooting only cool water out enters Tony's mind every five minutes.
Ziva knows his discomfort, but instead of offering him understanding words, she ignores his silent pleas for possible distracting conversation.
Lior is the first to find a seat. His bold move does not go unnoticed by anyone, especially Ziva. "...perhaps we should begin..."
Tony mutters to himself only. Lior's betrayal of Ziva's trust hits him on a personal level. Now the mere sight of Lior causes the blood inside of his veins to pulse.
Grabbing the chair farthest, yet directly across from Lior, Tony places himself inside of it. As soon as his behind hits the seat, he can feel the humid heat pressing into him. He makes a face, shifts a few times, then stays completely still.
Lior looks to Ziva and her team of Agents that are holding back as well. They stand behind her; each one stands in their way as if it is their own signature styles.
"Maybe you ought to find a seat, Ziva..." Tony looks to her and there is plea in his eyes. "...holding back will only worsen their condition...whatever it may be..."
She hisses momentarily. She knows he is being correct and without him there she is sure she would be too blinded to even considerate it.
"Take a seat." She spits to them while finding her own seat, and they follow her order like she is their superior.
Tony takes note to the way they spring into action. He tries for a moment of Ziva's time, to use his eyes and to seek an answer to the question mark that is hovering over his head, but she refuses to make eye contact with him. She also refuses to find a seat on either side of him.
"I assume we all would like to know just who we are dealing with." She turns her head and focuses to the near left of Tony. What she sees springs forth a memory from a time when things were better than now--a time where every morning working behind and on the side of Tony rewarded her with an in-depth viewing and listening of Tony's fascinations with women. "To Tony's left we have Mey Ming. Her best weapon is her intelligence. She originates from Hong Kong, with a background in several Chinese Intelligence Agencies. The objectives of an Agent of C.I is to obtain information on commercial, technological, and military secrets."
Tony smiles at her. "You're just a little barrel packing a great deal of intellectual heat, Ms. Ming." She glares at him, narrowing her eyes in a way he feels uncomfortable with. "...Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agent for NCIS."
"They are aware of your status, Tony--now please, shut up." Ziva requests before her eyes travel to his near right. "To Tony's right we have Ting Shing--on the other side of Ting we have Shen Shing. Both are from the same family--cousins. Though it is unknown, and with good reason, they are said to have originated from Singapore--"
"What's the 'good' reason?" Tony waits patiently.
"...they've gone into hiding..." Her throat tightens a little, but she pushes on. "Their talent comes from their last name. Shing means 'victory'--meaning...whatever the situation or the weapon, they complete their tasks. Unlike Mey Ming, they operate on their own times, at their own costs."
Ziva narrows her eyes at Tony. With them she tells him to keep his mouth closed so she can continue.
"On my right we have Kong Chan--to his right, Guang Chan. These two men work closely with...Michael and myself. They are brothers, originating from Hong Kong. Their speciality is their vision--with both of their first names combined we form the words Bright-Light. They have served Michael and I extremely well on many of our sniper missions on some of the darkest nights."
She shifts in her chair, looking quickly at Lior. Seeing his face there, waiting, angers her more, but she pushes herself to continue once again. "Lior..." She stops to sigh, "Last name unknown, position...position rogue...former Mossad...current backstabber--"
"We should move things along now." Tony interjects loudly. "What's our plan now that we've got enough skilled persons to protect the White House?"
"There is hardly one. We move quickly--we move carefully. We find them, then we trade."
Tony leans forward. "Trade?"
"The only chance Gibbs and McGee have is if I take their places."
The Italian snorts. "You're kidding, right?" He shakes his head. "You're willing to hand yourself over like a spare t-shirt?"
"If the shoe fits, wear it."
"It isn't the shoe fitting that worries me, Ziva--it's the knowledge that you're willing to slip inside it so easily."
"My country, my 'father'...my responsibility."
His eyes soften as a thought comes to mind, "You know you're sounding a lot like a Marine I know..." She does not look away from him, but her eyes gloss a little. "...except for the whole father issue..."
"It has been a long time, Tony--my way of thinking of mine alone. I am not Gibbs--I do not...sound like Gibbs." She tears her eyes away from his because they are pulling things to the surface from deep within her.
Tony straightens his shoulders. "There's got to be another way."
"Perhaps Agent DiNozzo is right, Ziva--perhaps there is."
Ziva lets out a heartless laugh. "There is only so far that we can go--that I can go, before it is all over. Wherever they are being held is surrounded by my father's men."
"Maybe." She looks to Tony just as he shrugs. "All I know is I managed to land in Tel Aviv--twice, within a couple of days, and I'm still alive."
"Now we may be safe, in minutes we could be in danger. It is only a matter of time before Mossad finds us, Tony--"
"Yeah, and Micahel, too." He glares at her.
Her eyes catch fire at his comment. "That isn't any of your business."
"Tell that to Gibbs--to McGee, you know, when we find them chopped up, beheaded--or shot to death." He scoffs. "Tell them it isn't any of their business when they ask just why they had to suffer."
"You are having a hard time keeping a firm hand on your emotions, Tony." Her tone warning.
"I'm only a reflection of you, Ziva." He throws back at her with such viciousness, it causes him to leap out of his chair. "One minute you're angry, next minute you're trying to hold back tears!"
"I ask for you to shut your mouth, Tony--NOW!"
"You're as fucked up as the rest of us!" His arms fly from his sides and his fingers begin a pointing match to everyone in the room. "Lior insists he's rogue, but he answers to Mossad as if he sorry life depends on it! The rest of your posse looks as lifeless as Gibbs' basement!" He nears his finish while pointing at her, "...and you...you act like the only way to save two people you honestly care for is by trading your life, your only life, with theirs--"
"IT IS THE HONORABLE THING TO DO!!!"
"Bullshit!" He shakes his head roughly. "You're just doing it so you can show off. You're just doing it so your life--your story, can live on even after you're gone."
In five steps she reaches Tony, her knife already in her hand--her knife already at his throat.
"Yeah--do it! Do it Ziva--everybody knows I don't have the same option as you. I don't have the option to be a legend after my death." He feels lightheaded from the situation and the heat, but he does not back down. "So do it...do to me what you wanted to do to Gibbs--"
"I..." Her mind begins to race.
"You wanted to hurt him--you wanted to get to him...for what happened with Branson--"
"I never--"
"You never got the chance? Was that it?!" He feels the impression of the tip of the blade on his skin now. "Are you angrier now...now that somebody else has a chance to do what you've longed for--"
"I NEVER WANTED TO KILL HIM!" She shouts; her throat scorching.
"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"
His words make her press the knife further--deeper into his skin so he can feel the reality more than ever, but not enough to break the skin and cut him.
"Tony...please..." She breathes heavily. "...now is not the time...nor the place...for this...for...for talk about the past...for talk about..."
"...gibbs?" He swallows hard. "...why is it never a good time to talk about Gibbs?"
Her eyes soften for a moment, but in a flash they harden again. "So much has happened."
Tony shakes his head slowly. "That answer isn't good enough. Damn it, Ziva--after all that has happened...that answer just isn't good enough."
Uncertainty consumes her senses and it is then Tony is able to force her hand and the knife away from his throat. Twisting her arm swiftly, he grabs the knife from her hand. Then he looks to her face and he can see her shock.
"Can't be at the top of your game when you're too busy trash-talking." He turns the knife around in his hand and let the blade lay in his open palm as he pushes it towards her. "Take it."
She swallows, her throat dry. Carefully, she takes the knife out of his hand, the whole time looking straight into his eyes.
"I'm only here to help you, Ziva--and you don't exactly make that easy..." He slightly shrugs. "...without a fight, you hardly realize all that you have lost."