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Chapter Thirty-Three

Fight Song

Agitated and furious, Ziva David paced the confines of her small cell, her hair still uncontrollably frizzy after being tazed. How dare they lock her up this way? She had demanded to see someone from the Israeli embassy as soon as she regained consciousness the day before, but as of yet, no one had arrived. The FBI fools who left her in this infernal cell probably did not even call them. She knew, as an Israeli citizen, it was her right to have contact, and she would be certain they paid for this indignity.

Every time her mind tried to conjure that humiliating scene outside the Philadelphia office, she forced the memory back. She did not want to remember how they caught her by surprise. It was only because she had been focused on Gibbs and eagerly anticipating a call from the hospital that had allowed it to happen.

She knew better.

She was trained better than that, but she would have to swallow her pride once her embassy representatives eventually arrived. She needed to know exactly what evidence they had against her. It was the only way to plot a way around it. The real problem was Gibbs.

He betrayed her.

The cold, disappointed expression on his face troubled her. She did not want to acknowledge that it hurt. She knew he cared about her, and she had grown attached to him. In hindsight, perhaps too quickly. It stroked her ego to see the approval in his eyes – approval she had craved from her own father for her entire life.

The sniper attack must have been successful. It was the only reason Gibbs would be so furious with her. How had he known she was behind it, though? She was certain Malachi was driving that car, so he could not have been apprehended after the shooting. She was less certain of his intent. He seemed to be aiming the vehicle at her. The idea Mossad might have put him up to it was increasing her disquiet. It should not have happened this way.

She had envisioned being there for Gibbs after the loss of DiNozzo. He would have leaned on her, and she would have sympathized with him. It would not take long for him to realize that he was better off without that buffoon. He was ridiculously attached to someone who meant nothing. He must have learned about DiNozzo's death, and she had somehow been implicated. It was the only explanation for his betrayal.

She so wanted to make the kill herself, but she knew ensuring her alibi was essential. They had all been whining so much about her actions at the Vault Tavern, she needed to avoid suspicion. Now, they suspected her anyway. She had missed the opportunity to see the life drain from DiNozzo's eyes, knowing she had won before they were extinguished forever.

Envisioning that delicious scenario was the only thing keeping her sane in this awful place. She knew DiNozzo had also been falsely imprisoned in the not-so-distant past, yet both Gibbs and McGee visited with him regularly. Gibbs blatant concern had been telling. It what was alerted her that DiNozzo was a bigger obstacle than she had first estimated.

No one from NCIS had been to see her – not even the Director. That was troubling. She was counting on Jenny Shepherd's extensive pull to get her out of here. Fornell had not even come by to torment her with that smug expression he wore. It was disconcerting and adding to her unease.

The sound of a door latch at the end of the corridor outside her cell alerted her that someone was coming at last. She quickly moved toward the bars, eagerly searching for who had finally come to release her from this prison.

A woman she did not recognize approached her cell. She wore an expensive, well-tailored suit with the Israeli insignia emblazoned on the jacket. She was not from the Embassy or Mossad, but Ziva was certain she was someone with authority – someone from another government agency, perhaps. Ziva would have preferred a member of Mossad, but she would ensure this woman sent a representative shortly.

"Hello, Officer David. I am Devorah Gruen from the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs," she said, her tone curt and business-like.

"It is about time. I have been here for nearly two days," Ziva said, unable to control her frustration.

Devorah's face remained expressionless. "I apologize for the delay. As I am sure you are aware, it is quite a long flight."

"Why did someone from the Embassy not come to gain my release? I should not be here," Ziva said.

"The ambassadors are rather busy with the American State Department trying to decide what to do about you, if I'm being honest," Devorah said, an underlying hint of anger beneath her words.

"What do you mean do about me? These charges are ridiculous. I have done nothing," Ziva said, lying easily even if her insides were churning. "I wish to speak with someone from Mossad."

"Officer David, the Americans have evidence that you were committing espionage while on assignment here. That is a serious and delicate matter, so you and your predicament have been placed in the hands of the Prime Minister – not Mossad," Devorah said.

A trickle of unease rippled through Ziva's core. "Mossad is not coming? I was following orders."

"Yes, I'm aware. That is also being dealt with," Devorah said ominously.

"My father is the Director. I am sure he will want to know what is happening to me here," Ziva said with false bravado.

While she was certain her father would use his influence within Mossad, if the Prime Minister was involved, he might prefer self-preservation.

"Your father is a Deputy Director at Mossad. Meir Dagan, the actual Director, has given me complete authority to handle your situation," Devorah said.

"I am a member of the Mossad and entitled to Mossad's protection," Ziva said in growing desperation.

"You and Malachi Ben-Gidon might be Mossad, but you are both screw-ups. You had your father's protection, while Ben-Gidon had yours. You were both sent here to get you out of Mossad's hair. What harm could you possibly do at a tiny Criminal Investigative unit in a foreign land? Well, you've finally outdone yourself with a screw-up of International proportions, haven't you Officer David?" Devorah asked angrily.

"Malachi was killed in the service of the Mossad," Ziva said, steaming at the rebuke.

She wanted to throw this woman's words back in her face, but she was aware enough to know her fate rested with Devorah, so she could not infuriate her further.

"Yes, I'm aware of his actions. The only positive is the fact he failed to kill the American agent you sent him to assassinate. There is still the more pressing matter of espionage, however," Devorah said.

Ziva reeled, dumbfounded. DiNozzo was not dead? It hit her like a punch to the gut. He had survived again. He had more lives than a cat. How then, did this woman know about her involvement? Her own survival instincts were suddenly on high alert.

"I had orders from Ilan Bodner to pass intel back to Mossad," she said.

"Ilan Bodner should know better than to get involved in something that put the crucial relationship with Israel and the US in jeopardy. His ambition got ahead of him. I suppose it's for the best that unforeseen circumstances have intervened," Devorah said.

"What does that mean?" Ziva asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

"Unfortunately, there was a tragic electrical fire in his home last night. There were no survivors. Now, the only detail that remains of a situation that could be incredibly embarrassing to Israel… is what to do about you."

Ziva swallowed thickly, a thrill of dread running down her spine.

When Gibbs finally arrived at the Navy Yard later that day, the temperature had warmed up several degrees, but the sky had turned grey and stormy. Thick, iron-colored clouds grew so dense, it looked as if the sky was pressing in upon them. Jenny phoned two more times while he waited for DiNozzo to get checked over at Bethesda, but he still hadn't answered her.

He knew there was going to be a price to pay, but he preferred it to be done in person. He hated using the phone, where facial expressions never sufficed for an answer. Dr. Pitt arranged for a Pulmonologist and a hand specialist to confer as they checked Tony's lungs, along with his hospital records from Philadelphia. While the doctor could see where the damage was done, his lungs were healing nicely, and the bones in his ribs had begun to mend. Brad saw no reason for Tony to remain hospitalized, not when his oxygen level had finally reached the normal range. He did caution against any strenuous activity that could lower it. DiNozzo tried to wheedle him into signing off on a return to desk duty, but Pitt outright refused that request.

"Sit on your couch and have a movie marathon to give those ribs a chance to heal," he said.

The hand specialist also thought his bones were coming along, but he'd need to begin physical therapy as soon as his cast was removed to keep his strength and dexterity.

They left Bethesda with several inhalers for Tony to use if he became winded. Gibbs knew he should've dropped his SFA off at home right after they finished up at the hospital, but he was also aware the director wouldn't let him truly rest until she'd debriefed both of them. Gibbs thought it better to do it while he could run interference, and then order DiNozzo to go home and stay there.

As they moved through Security, several of the guards greeted DiNozzo with calls welcoming him back. His SFA smiled and nodded, but Gibbs noted how pale and drawn he looked. There had been more activity today than DiNozzo had seen in over a week, and it was clearly catching up to him. Gibbs began to second guess his decision to put him through this so quickly.

"Agent Gibbs, the director's office phoned ahead. She'd like you and Agent DiNozzo to come right up," the security guard said.

"Uh oh, she must've told the guards at the gate to alert her as soon as we arrived in the Yard," DiNozzo muttered, eyebrows raised.

"Copy that," Gibbs said, resigned.

The two rode the elevator up to the director's office in silence, both contemplating the reprimand they were about to face. A harassed-looking Cynthia met them as soon as the doors opened.

"She's been expecting you," she said, leading them toward Jenny's office.

She sat behind her desk, two empty chairs placed directly in front of her. Tony flashed back to boarding school whenever he'd done something his teachers frowned upon – which was quite a lot. It was time for a dressing down by the headmaster – or headmistress – in this case.

There was no brewed coffee in the pot – the director wasn't messing around. Two could play at that game. In typical Gibbs' fashion, he passed her desk, walked right over to the coffeemaker, and began preparing a brew, all under Jenny's annoyed stare. DiNozzo had no choice but to take a seat in one of the empty chairs.

"It's nice of you to finally make an appearance. I'd like to get this meeting started since I have a full calendar, and this has been delayed far too long already," she said icily.

Gibbs remained mute, pouring water into the coffeemaker. Once it began to percolate, he took the chair next to DiNozzo. The director glowered at him expectantly, but he didn't offer a word. Tony followed his lead and waited for her to begin the questions.

"Are you just going to stare at me, or are you planning on giving a sitrep?" she asked.

"You haven't asked for one," Gibbs replied.

He was probably pushing the edge of insubordination, but they'd always had their own way of communicating. Beside him, DiNozzo's body tensed, waiting to see which one would win this particular battle of wills.

"I shouldn't need to ask for one, since I told you to keep me informed," she said, biting out each word through clenched, perfectly-white, razor-sharp teeth.

"You were an agent once. You know a case moves fast and chaotic at the end. Tell me what you've heard, and we'll fill in the blanks," Gibbs replied, getting up again to pour a cup of the now-brewed coffee.

Color suffused her face, and Gibbs thought she might actually throw something. The tick she always got in her left eye when she was upset was twitching madly.

"Since you've obviously returned, I can assume the case has been wrapped-up. I'm more interested in hearing why the FBI has had one of my people in custody for the past two days," she said.

"Espionage," he said.

The color on her face darkened even further. "That much I got. What I want to know is why you allowed it? The charge is ridiculous. Ziva is working cooperatively with both NCIS and Mossad. That is not espionage."

"Sharing classified intel on cases she hadn't been assigned is. Do you have that kind of access to Mossad?" he asked.

"What are you talking about? I thought you always protected your team? I put her under your protection, and you just turn her over to the wolves?" she asked.

" The wolves took over this case since they don't feel NCIS can be impartial. Your blind support is proving their point," Gibbs said.

"I learned from you to always protect my people. It's too bad you've apparently forgotten."

"It's out of our hands," he said, growling.

"We'll see about that."

Gibbs sighed, irritated by her deliberate ignorance of facts she didn't like. "They have the evidence to prove it."

"What evidence? Tell me all you know, because I haven't been given any of the details, nor was I informed of any evidence. In fact, it was only down to the fact I have loyal contacts in the government that I even know she's in custody. That's definitely something you should've reported. How could you have allowed it?" she asked.

" Espionage falls under FBI jurisdiction," he said.

"As if that's ever stopped you before," she snapped, waving her hand as if she didn't believe him or the FBI..

"As does attempted murder of a Federal agent," Gibbs added, dropping that little bombshell.

DiNozzo shrunk back in his seat, like a little kid being dragged into an argument between two battling parents.

"Attempted murder? I assume you're talking about the fact Ziva was identified as the snitch. She told you it was a language barrier, and she said you believed her. She does mess up her words quite often, as I know you're aware," Jenny said, seething.

"You've been keeping in touch. Count that as another disobeyed order," Gibbs said, fuming.

He'd told her repeatedly that she reported to him, and only him. She wasn't to involve the director.

"I contacted her since you weren't fulfilling your direct order to keep me in the loop," Jenny said. "Perhaps she was following your lead."

Gibbs had to give her that point, but one battle wasn't the war, and she needed a reality check..

"There's evidence it was intentional," he said.

"Not to mention the fact she directed another Mossad operative to take out yours truly. He nearly got McGee, too," Tony said.

This was clearly news to her, because she simply stared, nonplussed for an extended moment before regaining her bearings.

"What are you talking about, Agent DiNozzo? I'm sure you're mistaken."

"Nope, no mistake. You would've been out nearly the entire MCRT," Tony replied. "That wouldn't have gone over well."

"You were injured. Are you still under the influence of analgesics?" she asked.

"Haven't taken any today," DiNozzo shot back, glaring.

"McGee wasn't hospitalized, but he can corroborate DiNozzo's statement," Gibbs said, furious she was trying to paint DiNozzo into a corner rather than confronting the real issue.

"I'll be speaking to him, as well. It still doesn't explain why you allowed the FBI to taker her," Jenny said.

"Because if it were up to me, I'd just shoot her. I doubt that would win you any political favors," he said.

Jenny scowled but ignored him, turning to Tony instead.

"Agent DiNozzo, you'll need to give a complete deposition on your undercover operation and fulfill the mandatory psyche eval before I'll even consider re-instating you. I'm sure the psychologist can clarify where this mistrust of Officer David originated. You didn't accept her from the very start," she said, lips pursed.

"That only means his instincts were better than either of ours," Gibbs snarled.

"That remains to be seen. You've yet to give me any concrete proof of your allegations, nor adequately convinced me of the need for FBI involvement. If Ziva has overstepped some procedures since she began executing the liaison position, I will take measures to see they are corrected," Jenny said.

"You're not getting this, Jen–"

"It will be either Director Shepherd or ma'am as we conduct this debriefing, Agent Gibbs," she said.

Gibbs glared. "Fine, Director – you're not going to be able to sidestep this one."

"Not to mention that by now, Homeland and NSA are probably in discussion with the FBI over what to do about her before they bring it to the Joint Chiefs. Oh, and I'd wager the State Department is in sync with her Embassy, as well," Tony said cheerfully.

More of the color drained from Jenny's face. "I'm sure you're mistaken. I doubt there is anything in their investigation that would reach that far up. Ziva is a talented operative and would never be part of anything like what you're suggesting."

"Director, I suggest you focus on Admiral Montague and his son. They're free to leave protective custody," Gibbs said.

He wanted her to stay clear of all the fallout that was bound to come that she clearly wasn't recognizing. She wanted the accolades for a successful mission and to impress the Admiral. She'd have that – if she could keep her nose clean and not interfere in Ziva's case. It was a no-win situation for her.

"I'll decide where my focus should be. I expect a full write-up on the actual case you were assigned while I dig into what kind of mess your unfounded suspicions have created, Agent DiNozzo. You are dismissed," Jenny said, scowling.

"He's on medical leave, so you can arrange for someone to take his deposition orally from home," Gibbs said.

"I can–" Tony stopped abruptly when Gibbs levelled him with a fierce glare.

"Have Abby drive you home, DiNozzo," he said.

DiNozzo's shoulders sagged, but he nodded before leaving the director's office. Gibbs turned back to Jenny.

"You're dismissed, as well, Special Agent Gibbs," she said coldly.

"If you want to sink your own career, be my guest," he said, throwing in the towel. "It's most likely over anyway."

He'd tried to give her a warning. If she chose to ignore it, that was on her. He wasn't about to stick his neck out any further than he already had. She'd been a really good agent once, but she, like many others before her, proved politics was corruptive. Oh, she thought she was good at it, and she was good at maneuvering people, but she was lousy at self-preservation. NCIS wasn't her kingdom that she could sit atop like some queen with absolute power. She had superiors who he was certain wouldn't be happy with the scandal she'd brought to the agency. She somehow thought she could still salvage this trainwreck of a scheme and didn't even see the sharks were circling.

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"This isn't going to go away with a slap on the wrist," he said.

"Thanks to you not having her six. Now I'll see what I can do," she said, raising her chin in defiance.

"Sometimes in battle, you have to know when to cut your losses," Gibbs said, feeling as if was doing the same with her here and now.

And he found he really didn't regret it as much as he thought he would.

Jenny narrowed her eyes. "I don't intend to lose."

"You already have. You just don't know it yet."

Tony took the elevator rather than the stairs after leaving the director's office. It wasn't because he was avoiding activity, as Brad instructed, but because he was so damn tired. Although being kept in bed all day yesterday eased his breathing difficulty, he was annoyed by the loss of stamina. It was pathetic to feel so weary just because he didn't get an afternoon nap. It so viscerally reminded him of his convalescence after having the plague that he fought the nap for all he was worth. He kept waiting for his vision to turn blue.

Walking through the empty bullpen felt rather surreal. All the desks were empty, but he smiled at the decorations surrounding three of the desks. He'd told Abby to do it in order to avoid suspicion while she was going through his desk, but he knew she would've done it anyway. It was nice to have someone welcome him home. Despite how tired he was, the ribbons and stickers on his desk made him feel rather cheery.

Several agents called greetings and asked how he was feeling. He waved but kept moving as he didn't want to engage in conversation. He had no idea how much about Ziva's arrest was general knowledge, and he didn't want to be questioned until he was sure. He took the back elevator down to the lab.

He could hear Abby's music blaring before he even reached the entrance, and it made him cringe. He was a music lover, but this sounded more like nails on a chalkboard than anything with a beat. There wasn't a single note or chord distinguishable in any of it. He entered the lab, shrinking away from the sound, but Abby snuffed it the moment she saw him.

"Tooonyyyy!" she shouted, bolting across the room, arms outstretched.

Tony tried to brace himself for impact, turning to the side to protect his still-healing ribs… but the collision never came. He opened his eyes to see Abby standing directly in front of him, eyes wide and frozen in place.

"Hey, Abs," he said curiously.

She oh-so-gently wrapped her arms around him in an embrace rather than a squeeze. She rested her head on his shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she said, sniffling, her voice muffled.

Tony smiled, patting her on the back. "I'm fine. I'm happy to see you, too," he said, enjoying the hug more than he'd ever let on.

Quite honestly, he thought Abby was the only person who ever really hugged him – at least since he'd lost his mother.

She pulled back, keeping her hands resting on his upper arms as she looked him over.

"I know what your version of fine is, mister. I've been going crazy not knowing what's happening. Is it done? Has she really been arrested? Tim called to let me know you all were on your way back, but he wouldn't give me any of the details over the phone. Scuttlebutt started yesterday that Ziva had been taken into custody, but no one knows why. Odds favor her killing someone. It's been torture not being able to share the parts I do know, but I did it. I kept my mouth shut better than I ever have. I knew it could put you, or Tim, or even Gibbs at risk if anything got leaked, so I've been working like crazy, trying to distract myself. Jimmy Palmer keeps bringing me tea because he thinks something's wrong. Tea! Have you ever known me to drink tea? I don't even like tea – it's Ducky that likes tea. I need–"

"Abby!" he shouted, making his ribs ache. He finally had her attention though. "It's over. The FBI does have her, and she's being charged with espionage."

"Espionage? What is this all about? Surely a mistake has been made," Ducky said, standing in the lab entrance wearing a stunned expression.

Tony shook his head. "No mistake, Ducky. They have evidence to prove it."

"I find it difficult to believe Jethro allowed them to take her. Is he with her? Why aren't you looking for evidence to defend her?" Ducky asked incredulously.

Tony couldn't help feeling a little hurt that Ducky immediately jumped to her defense, but he supposed if it were any of his other teammates, he would've done the same.

"Gibbs is with the Director," he replied stiffly.

"Why would he want to defend her? He was the only one of all of us that knew she was up to something hinky. We all fell for it – even me," Abby said, outraged.

She linked her arm through Tony's, glaring at the Medical Examiner.

Ducky's eyes widened. "I'm surprised at you, Abigail, both of you really. I think you're being too hard on her. There has to be some mistake."

"No mistake, Duck," Gibbs said, joining them in the lab. "DiNozzo, why are you still here?"

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby said, letting go of Tony and hurrying over to give Gibbs the tight hug she'd restrained herself from giving Tony.

He patted her back indulgently and allowed her to hang on for a few seconds. "Everyone's okay, Abs."

"It doesn't sound like it. What is going on, Jethro?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs ignored him and kept his eyes on Tony. "I told you to let Abby drive you home."

"What?" Abby asked, spinning around. "You didn't tell me that."

"I never got a word in edgewise," Tony said, causing a small flush to show on Abby's pale complexion.

A trace of a smile crossed Gibbs' face, apparently understanding how that could happen. Thank God for Abby. She was the only one who ever managed to get around Gibbs' temper.

"Sit down, anyway," Gibbs said, growling.

Abby quickly moved one of her rolling chairs behind him so he could take a seat. Tony harumphed in annoyance but thought Gibbs' patience was at its limit after his argument with the Director. He sat in the chair.

"Jethro," Ducky said impatiently. "What has happened to Ziva?"

Gibbs turned his disbelieving gaze to his old friend. " To her? Nothing has happened to her that wasn't warranted."

Surprise filtered through Ducky's eyes, but he persisted. "You agree that the FBI has it right? I've never known you to agree with them in the past."

"She's been passing classified intel to Mossad," he said.

"And its her fault Tony got hurt," Abby added, folding her arms across her chest.

This startled the doctor, and he looked at Tony appraisingly. "I thought the perpetrators at the bar inflicted your injuries. I received several reports from the doctors in Philadelphia."

"They did, because she blew his cover," Gibbs said.

Ducky was shocked. "Intentionally?"

"She also arranged for a Mossad sniper to try and take me out at the hospital," Tony said.

Ducky paled several shades, and he reached out a hand to steady himself, sinking into another of the chairs in Abby's lab.

"Good Lord," he whispered.

"She what?" Abby shouted, turning frantic eyes on Tony who was sitting right beside to her.

"Didn't work, Abs – thanks to McGee, the world is still graced by my presence," Tony said.

"Tim? Is he hurt? Is that why he's not here? What happened to Timmy?" Abby asked, her eyes filling again.

"He's fine. He'll be here shortly," Gibbs said.

"Is the Director going to try and get her released?" Tony asked.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"Right. Of course, she is," Tony said, aware there was no way the FBI would let her go.

"Doesn't matter. She's off my team anyway," Gibbs said.

"The director isn't convinced by the evidence?" Ducky asked, frowning.

"She hasn't seen the evidence," Gibbs said, staring pointedly at Ducky who'd just done the same thing.

Ducky dropped his head, abashed. "I owe you an apology, Anthony, Abigail. I should have listened rather than jumping to her defense. I sympathized with her, here alone in a foreign land. It's in my nature to jump to a woman's defense, but I should have clarified all the facts. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," Tony said with a smile.

"Aww, don't worry about it, Duckman," Abby said, rushing over to give the elderly doctor a hug. "She's a spy. She's good at fooling people."

"Come on, DiNozzo. I'll drive you home," Gibbs said.

"I thought I was doing it," Abby said, turning around and looking disappointed.

Both you and Ducky should gather anything you'll want with you at home for a few days," Gibbs said.

"What? Why? Am I going back to Philadelphia?" Abby asked.

Tony shook his head, guessing Gibbs line of thought. "You think a lockdown is imminent."

Gibbs nodded. "FBI will want to scrutinize everything."