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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bitch
As Gibbs was leaving the coffee shop where he'd purchased breakfast for himself and DiNozzo, Fornell's car skidded to a halt in front of him, nearly causing him to spill his steaming, caffeinated lifeblood. Fornell would've paid for that. He just had time to shove DiNozzo's breakfast into McGee's hands before he and Fornell were off, tracking down a lead on Stephanie Lakes's credit card. The alert came from a diner not far from the abandoned building where DiNozzo had been held. Beside the diner stood a run-down motel with a blinking neon sign alerting guests that long-term leases were available.
When the diner turned out to be a bust, Gibbs thought it was worth checking out the motel due to its proximity. They had to be hiding somewhere. Fornell showed photos of their suspects to the desk clerk, and he identified Matt Evans as one of his guests. Believing they'd finally caught a break, they burst into the room, guns drawn, only to find the body of Evans splayed out on the bed, a seeping bullet wound in his back. His lifeless eyes stared accusingly at a phantom killer who was no longer there.
The body was still warm.
Gibbs kicked some of the clothing scattered on the floor, infuriated. They were mere minutes away from getting some answers but had been foiled again. It burned his ass that these two-bit idiots kept managing to keep a step ahead of him.
"I'll get a team over here to gather evidence and collect the body," Fornell said, pulling out his phone.
He, too, sounded frustrated. They both felt as if something had been ripped away from them. This case had gone on entirely too long, and it seemed to be unravelling before their eyes. They'd pegged Barrows and Evans as the ringleaders, but it appeared Pete Warren and Stephanie Lake were the ones calling the shots. The level of Sonny Warren's involvement was still unknown. He'd been Dishonorably Discharged from the Delaware, but was this his father seeking vengeance on his son's behalf, or had the son initiated it all?
Perhaps Sonny used his time in prison to cultivate some connections in the criminal underworld. Maybe he got a taste for revenge. He wouldn't be the first to come out of incarceration a more hardened criminal than when he went in. Prison could be a brutal place despite the fact the goal was rehabilitation.
Matt Evans clearly did something to sever the ties amongst their suspects, but until they caught a living member of this little gang, they wouldn't know. Hell, they might never know, anyway. It would depend on who decided to talk – because one of them would. Gibbs would guarantee it.
"Tina's sending over a team along with a Medical Examiner. She said she'd meet us at the office," Fornell said.
Gibbs grunted his agreement. Tina Kehoe was another factor in this whole mess. DiNozzo trusted her and had apparently joined forces to investigate Ziva. Gibbs hated the FBI involvement, but since he did trust DiNozzo, he'd reluctantly come to accept it was necessary.
As much as he hated to admit it, if they were going to take on Mossad, they needed some big guns in on the plan. He was going to insist that Fornell be brought up to speed, as well. He might enjoy bickering and the various turf wars with his FBI counterpart, but in the end, he knew he could trust him. Kehoe was still an unknown – and his recent history with trusting women had proved disturbingly faulty.
Once the investigative team arrived, Gibbs and Fornell returned to the satellite office, fresh coffee in hand. They were barely in the door when Ziva appeared like a swooping bird of prey, blocking their path.
"Gibbs. I wish to speak with you," she said in a clipped tone, her dark eyes fierce and determined.
"Not now," he replied, brushing past her.
"Gibbs! Yes, now. We need to talk," she insisted.
Gibbs stopped and turned around, glaring hard enough to melt ice. "I'll decide when we need to talk, Officer David."
"Then when? You have avoided me since yesterday. I waited for you, yet you never returned," she said, clearly stung by his dismissal.
"Get back to work," he snapped.
"Doing what? You and McGee have been gone all morning, and I have been benched. Even Agent Kehoe, who loves to order me around, has not given me an assignment. Am I not a valuable asset? What good am I to our case stuck in this office with nothing to do?" she asked.
He'd noticed previously that she became snappy when things weren't going her way, but he wouldn't tolerate this attitude – from anyone. He supposed she might feel as if the walls were closing in on her if she detected the hostility coming from all sides. She couldn't be this clueless as to why he was upset, or maybe she just didn't care. He didn't want her to do anything rash if she was feeling cornered, particularly since she was already being investigated on the sly. It would serve them better if he could alleviate some of her concerns before her suspicions led her to where Kehoe and DiNozzo were digging.
There was no telling how she'd react to that discovery, and regardless of his instinct to protect her, there was no mistaking that she was deadly and violence was her default setting.
"Sit!" he said, pointing to the empty office where McGee and Sacks listened to the incriminating tape.
Ziva huffed but marched inside and slammed the door behind her, the loud sound causing several agents around the room to look up and take notice.
"I'll update Tina. You can deal with that," Fornell said, jerking his chin toward the now-closed office door.
"Coward," Gibbs muttered.
"Hey, to be honest, I'm a little afraid of her. You know me, I like sweet li'l things," Fornell said, smirking.
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "You married Diane – there's nothing sweet about her."
Fornell shrugged. "Fair point. But that one is your problem, not mine. Good luck and watch your back."
Gibbs didn't respond but instead entered the office, glaring hostilely at Ziva. "Make demands like that again, and you'll be benched. Permanently," he snarled.
Ziva's eyes rounded, but she was apparently too deep into her anger to recognize – or maybe care – about the danger she was in. He wasn't one to put up with anyone questioning his decisions. It was about time she learned that a big dog will bite when you rattle his cage.
"I will not be brushed aside like this. Have I not proven my value on this team? Why am I being excluded? You have not even spoken to me one-on-one since you allowed the FBI to question me, and I deserve to know why," she said, folding her arms across her chest.
"You know why," he said, growling.
She scowled. "It is because I confused my words, yes? You know I am fluent in five different languages. I would think an occasional mix-up would be understandable."
"Maybe… if it didn't go hand-in-hand with disregarding the job you were there to do," he said, gritting his teeth, the image of Tony's battered face rising to the surface.
"I did not disregard anything. I kept Tony within sight at all times except when he went into the men's room. You cannot blame me for suspecting he was fooling around with that woman. She was very beautiful, and he was flirting with her outrageously the night before. You know how he is," she said.
"Yeah, he was," Gibbs snapped, furious. "He, at least, was doing his job."
"That is not fair. I was observing his same antics, night after night. He flirted with many women and nothing happened," Ziva said. "He has no self-control, and his lack of focus was highlighted by his abduction."
"Had enough self-control to try and hold them off for his back up to arrive, but you never did," he roared, astonished she was trying to switch the blame onto Tony.
She refused to admit her own culpability. Was she truly this arrogant, or was this all a deflection? Did she think by focusing on her failure at the club he'd forget about what he'd heard on that tape?
"I did not see it as unusual because it seemed normal for his behavior. He is always chasing after another skirt," she said, exasperated.
"Back-up is the most fundamental job an agent has, and you're still failing to understand that basic concept," he snarled.
"Gibbs, you know me, you know my skills. I was trained by the best. Tony should have used that big mouth of his to shout a warning rather than whispering sweet nothings to that woman. Then again, if he had been better trained, he would not be so annoying, and I would not have suspected this behavior from him. He brags constantly about his prowess with women. It is enough to drive me mad," she said, fuming.
"Self-discipline must not be taught at Mossad," Gibbs said coolly.
Ziva reared back as if stung. "You cannot possibly believe that. I am sorry Tony was hurt, but things sometimes go wrong on a mission. You know this. You cannot blame me for suspecting the worst of Tony."
"It went wrong because you failed to protect your partner, failed to work as a team," he said, looking away in disgust while he struggled to control his temper.
"I have been nothing but a team player since I arrived here," she said, nearly spitting.
"No, you haven't. Teamwork is not your forté. Mossad isn't known for teamwork, they're more lone operatives, and you haven't adapted since joining this team," he said.
"Why are you being so unfair? You, above all others, know what I bring to the team, know what I have sacrificed to be here," she said, her eyes glistening – from anger or hurt he didn't know.
No matter how angry he was, her tears were affecting him, and he had to fight against his inclination to comfort her. It was an innate part of his nature, but she didn't deserve his sympathy. She was in the wrong, and she had to face it. He was doing her no favors by giving her leeway, and she'd been taking advantage of it.
He steeled his resolve, remembering his promise to DiNozzo, the one who really did deserve support.
"Ziva, he was undercover, therefore most exposed. Your job was to keep eyes on him. You failed," he said.
"Why is it just me you are angry with? Why is McGee not under the same scrutiny? You have not shut him out as you have done me," she said, her voice choked.
"McGee wasn't the one who ratted DiNozzo out," he said, once again losing control of his temper.
"Unintentionally! I made a mistake," she said.
"A careless one that could've got your partner killed," he said.
"So, you throw me in the lion's parlor? Why could you not just ask me about it yourself? You have always handled what happens on your team directly, never involving outsiders. Why did you allow the FBI to interrogate me? Allow them to lock me up like an animal?" she asked, and he could tell that was what she was really upset about.
She wasn't getting the special treatment she expected. It wasn't the accusation; it was that she felt rejected – by him. She really did hold herself in higher standing than the others. It was his fault she'd developed that arrogance, and it was time he lay down some hard truths. He wasn't even going to bother with her lion's den mistake – it was too timely placed, and he'd bet done intentionally.
"As the daughter of the Director, I understand how things might've been different for you at Mossad, but I am not your father, Ziva. I'm your boss. You are expected to do your job, same as everyone else," he said, aware he was hurting her.
"Gibbs," she said, startled and dismayed, a single tear falling slowly down her cheek.
"And get the same reprimands when you fail," he said.
She sniffled and looked away, shutting her eyes.
It was one of the harder things he'd done, walling off his emotions to her pain. Even if, as Tony thought, she was supplying intel to Mossad, Gibbs knew her feelings for him as some sort of father-figure, a protector, were real. He'd seen her pain that day in his basement and knew her emotions then were genuine. It was perhaps the only authentic bit of herself she'd ever allowed him to see. It still didn't make her more important than any of the others on his team.
They both needed to correct that inclination.
When it battle, one needed to know when to make a tactical retreat. There would be a better opportunity for a full-scale attack. He needed to lower her defenses so the others could gather the intel necessary to prove her wrongdoings. He was the only one she trusted, and it was up to him to assure her that the team would move forward unchanged – even if it was a complete lie.
"We have work to do, and your only concern should be catching these bastards," he said gruffly, moving away from the uncomfortable emotions in the room.
Ziva sniffed. "I see. So, you do not care that you allowed the FBI interrogated me like a common criminal. You feel it was the right decision," she said, pulling herself together, her mask of indifference falling back into place.
"It's over and done. Move on," he replied, hoping she'd lower her guard if she thought there would be no further repercussions for her actions..
Still, he knew she wasn't happy with his response, but he really didn't know how she expected him to undo the past. They didn't have time for this, and he was done with the conversation.
"I'm down my best investigator, and while you're here complaining, you've made no progress. Find me a lead. Now!" he shouted.
He saw a flash of anger beneath her sorrow, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was dismissing her, or that he'd reminded her she hadn't found their suspects.
"Very well," she replied coldly.
/* /* /* /*
Ziva stalked past the desk where she had been working and went straight outside without grabbing her coat. The frigid air hit her like a brick wall, stealing her breath. She was furious, and she needed to calm down or she just might slice someone's throat open. There was nowhere to go inside FBI headquarters that did not have eyes all over her. It had been like this since they had listened to that damn recording. Everyone was watching her way too closely, and she hated it. She knew they were waiting for her to make a mistake.
It was all too familiar with how things were at Mossad the last time she was there. Her instructors were jealous of her position, and they constantly looked for ways to criticize and make her look bad. They insisted she was too impulsive and did not think her actions through. It was ridiculous. She was a born operative, and they knew it. She would have reached these heights no matter who her father was.
This assignment with NCIS was meant to be her chance to prove herself, to gain her father's pride and approval, and then rub it in the faces of those who did not see her value. Now, these FBI intruders were trying to make her look incompetent in Gibbs' eyes, and she would not have it. She did not care if they did not trust her to have their backs. It was Gibbs' approval and respect she wanted, and she did not like the disappointment that was blatant in his cold, cold eyes. Even her carefully cultivated language errors had not completely alleviated his suspicion.
It had not occurred to her that the listening device would still be operable, but she had been foolish not to check. If he had died like he was supposed to, there would be no reason to check that tape. That overgrown school boy had more lives than a cat. When the opportunity presented itself, she jumped on it, but in her jubilance, she overlooked a potential outcome. She could not allow that to happen again.
The wind blew, ruffling her hair and sending a chill so deeply into her bones that her teeth began to chatter.
Infuriatingly, she had to go back inside to grab her coat. The temperature in this miserable city was ridiculous. How she longed for her desert home and the warm, balmy breezes. Once she buried herself in the thick wool, adding a hat and mittens, too, she returned to the parking lot, pacing up and down between the rows of cars, both for warmth and to regain her equilibrium. She ignored the eyes of the other agents in the squad room who watched her intensely as she gathered her things, no doubt gossiping about the words she had exchanged with Gibbs.
How could he allow these people to treat her so badly? She was part of his team, and he always protected his team. Thus far, he had steadfastly been on her side. They shared a special connection. She had saved his life, and he owed her. He knew this. The intel she compiled for the dossiers about the people at NCIS for Ari was extensive. She discovered the details about Gibbs' long-dead wife and daughter. No one – not Tony, not the Director, not his friend, Fornell – knew about them. She knew – and Gibbs knew she knew. Her sacrifice forged a bond between her and his beloved Kelly. It connected her to Gibbs in a way none of the others shared, and she knew he felt a father's protective instinct towards her.
At least, he had – until just now when he outright reminded her that he was not her father. She could not deny that his rejection stung – badly. It brought her back to her younger years and her own father's rejection. He had always put work ahead of her. Always.
It was clear now that she had made a fatal error when she compiled those dossiers. DiNozzo kept managing to surprise her. His dossier was incomplete. She had too quickly disregarded him as useless, a non-threat to her position on the team. He was more resourceful than she had given credit, and more stubborn than she had anticipated. All her attempts to marginalize him, prove his unnecessary standing had failed. She then tried to lure him under her spell, much as she had done with McGee. He still refused to trust her, whispering his childish tantrums in Gibbs' ear. It infuriated her that this bratty toddler was ruining all her plans. Her frustration was causing her to make mistakes.
She was angry and frightened of what would happen if her error was uncovered. If she was called home in shame, all the freedom she had gained here in America would be lost. She would be humiliated again. It would mean both DiNozzo and her former colleagues would win, and that could not happen.
She felt all her schemes and efforts at NCIS blowing up like dust in the wind. It had all been so carefully arranged. Her father wanted to place a mole inside an American government agency with access to classified intel. NCIS was small enough to have crucial access without a lot of overhead supervision. Any transgressions could more easily be swept under the rug. Ari created the empty spot by killing Caitlyn Todd, and with Director Shepherd's unwitting help, Ziva slid right into the ready-made post.
Bitterly, she had to admit that although killing Ari had not been part of her plan, she had come to accept that it was part of her father's. He had been omniscient about it, too. Her sacrifice created a significant bond between her and Gibbs. A bond that she had cultivated and nurtured since her arrival, and it had been growing stronger with each passing day. There had only been one sticking point disrupting all her well laid plans.
Anthony DiNozzo. He spoiled everything. And, she was not even sure if Gibbs realized he said it, but he had called that buffoon his best agent. Him! As if he could ever be the best at anything, except perhaps incompetence. It was ridiculous. She had the very best training. She was a spy, and no one was better suited to extract information from unwilling suspects. It was only all these ridiculous rules that held her back. Gibbs knew this. He knew her value. He was not one to tolerate the foolish restrictions imposed on investigators, either. Gibbs did not care about the rules.
This could not continue. If Gibbs refused to let go of his senseless attachment to that puffed-up peacock, then DiNozzo needed to be removed from the equation.
Permanently.
She was done playing games and putting up with this nonsense. She was Mossad, and she would not be defeated by a… by a lowly cop. A child. He was in no way up to her level, and now, he was actively disrupting her long-term goals. No one else could be trusted this time – it was something she needed to handle herself. She had Gibbs right where she wanted him, and it was only DiNozzo's whining that caused him to forget her value.
Everyone had a fatal flaw, and DiNozzo was Gibbs.' She would be doing him a favor by relieving him of that burden. Once the scene-stealing, jealous fool was out of the way, and Gibbs all but put Ziva in the position of his SFA, she would prove to him how well they could work in partnership rather than as a team. If it was just her and Gibbs, it would be much easier to get whatever Mossad needed and still become a powerful and significant force amongst American agencies. They would be sought after far and wide for their success and focus.
McGee had been a useful pawn in her attempts to isolate DiNozzo, but with that clown gone once and for all, there would be no need for McGee, either. He could have been a valuable asset to have in this agency, but he had outlived his usefulness. She could not believe he tattled about what he found on that tape. He should have buried the whole mess if he had just been stronger. Of course, that was half the problem. He was weak. He was weak to apologize for his role at the club, weak to become such a puddle whenever Gibbs was angry, and he was weak not to stand up for her when he first heard that tape.
DiNozzo and McGee were both in her way, and it was time to do something to regain control. She would not be outsmarted by either of them. With this resolve in mind, Ziva returned to the squad room, eyes narrowed and mind focused on putting her plans in place.