Ziva David slowly crawled back into the small, camouflaged tent she had purchased specifically for this mission. The tent was carefully tied to a few sturdy bushes on a saddle, a natural junction between two hills, providing her with a strategic vantage point. The location was deliberately chosen to be two miles west of her objective, allowing her to maintain a safe distance while still being close enough to gather crucial information. Her objective, the notorious Al-Shabaab terrorist training camp, was the current location of Saleem Ulman, a high-value target.
The camp was situated approximately a mile away from the small town of Ceelaayo, Somalia, in the ruins of the ancient city of El Ayum. The terrorists had cleverly built newer structures that blended seamlessly into the existing ancient architecture, making it challenging to distinguish between the old and the new. Ziva had patiently waited for the evening to arrive, knowing that the setting sun would be behind her, providing her with the perfect cover to observe the camp without being detected. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Ziva carefully emerged from her tent and began to survey the camp using her high-powered binoculars. The camp was sparse and spread out, with most structures made of lightweight and recyclable materials such as wood and aluminum sheets. However, one building stood out - a central, two-story structure constructed from cinderblocks, concrete, and glass. This building seemed to be the hub of the camp's activities, and Ziva's trained eyes scanned it meticulously, taking note of various details.
She spotted a food storage area, a makeshift garage with petroleum tankers, sleeping quarters, and what she believed to be a detention center or jail, where prisoners were likely being held and tortured. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but as a seasoned Kidon operative, she remained focused and composed. Ziva continued to observe the camp, taking mental notes of the layout, the number of guards, and the movement of personnel. As she scanned the surrounding area, Ziva noticed that the terrorists-in-training did not reside within the camp itself but rather occupied the abandoned town of Ceelaayo. It seemed that Saleem Ulman and a small, select group of his most trusted operatives permanently resided in the old ruins, while the majority of his force was stationed nearby, ready to train or carry out his nefarious plans.
As a Kidon, Ziva knew that approaching the ruins without gathering intelligence on the nearby town would be reckless and potentially disastrous. She decided to re-evaluate her approach and gather more information before making her move. As the shadow of the hill slowly overtook her tent, Ziva quietly ate her supplies, savoring each bite, and then laid down to rest. She planned to sneak around Ceelaayo early the next morning, gathering more information and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The darkness of the night surrounded her, and Ziva's thoughts turned to the mission ahead. She knew that the next 24 hours would be crucial, and she needed to be sharp, focused, and ready for anything. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, her mind racing with strategies and contingency plans, as she drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
After a successful daytime observation of Ceelaayo with her trusty binoculars, Ziva David retreated back to the safety of her tent, carefully going over the valuable information she had collected. Her surveillance had revealed that Ceelaayo was a predominantly male-dominated community, consisting of approximately 95% men and only 5% women. She noted that most of the men would leave the village in the morning to train in Saleem's camp, a notorious terrorist hub. The women, on the other hand, took on essential tasks such as food distribution, maintenance of the village, water distribution, and fuel distribution, among other crucial responsibilities. As she delved deeper into her observations, Ziva realized that the skeleton crew of men who remained behind in the village seemed to keep a watchful eye on the women, providing them with protection while also maintaining a sense of control. The city of Ceelaayo itself was geographically small, yet surprisingly, only a small portion of it was inhabited, leaving vast areas of the city bare and abandoned. This information gave Ziva a better understanding of the city's capacity and layout, which would be crucial in planning her next move.
Before venturing outside, Ziva took a moment to eat some non-perishable food, replenishing her energy for the long hours of surveillance ahead. She then made her way to a nearby hill, where she laid low, observing the roads and the sea, waiting anxiously for the Mossad reinforcement that her father had promised. Ever since trekking past Bosaso, Ziva had been plagued by very little phone signal, making standard communication with her team and family extremely spotty. She had attempted to call her father on three separate occasions, but the signal kept dropping before a connection could be made, leaving her feeling frustrated and isolated.
As the hours ticked by, Ziva had been perched on the hill of El Ayum for over 18 hours, and she knew that the longer she waited to strike, the more likely she was to be discovered. The risk of being caught was increasing by the minute, but she also knew that she needed to finish her observation and intelligence gathering, particularly observing the terrorists in training return to camp. This information would be vital in planning a successful mission to take down Saleem Ulman, the notorious terrorist leader. Ziva took stock of her resources, knowing that she had enough supplies to last her for the next 12 hours. With a steely determination, she made a decision: she would strike and kill Saleem Ulman, perform her Aaliyah, and justify Michael's death, with or without the backup she had been promised. As she gazed out at the vast expanse of the sea, Ziva steeled herself for the challenges ahead, ready to face whatever lay in store for her.
Ziva entered the ruins of El Ayum at the darkest hour of the night, around 0300 hours, when the only sound that broke the silence was the distant crashing of waves against the shore. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, the kind that often precedes a storm, and Ziva's instincts were on high alert as she carefully probed around the camp. She crouched near the makeshift garage, her eyes scanning the surroundings with caution, making sure not to lean against the structure and make any noise. The walls of most buildings in the camp were made of aluminum sheets, which were not only lightweight but also paradoxically loud, and Ziva knew that even the slightest touch could give away her position.
As she moved through the ruins, stalking through the training camp like a ghost, Ziva checked various buildings, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. But it was what she didn't find that posed a very dangerous problem: it was impossible to silently access any structure among the ruins, except for one. The two-storied, cinderblock, concrete, and glass building, centrally located in the camp, seemed to be the only exception. Ziva had deduced that this was the detention center, and she knew that it was a trap, a simple but effective one, particularly ill-suited for assassins like herself on a mission like Kidon. In any other circumstances, Ziva would have retreated back to her camp, taken notes, and informed Mossad about the situation. The mission would have been re-evaluated, or abandoned altogether. But these were not ordinary circumstances. Ziva had waited for the reinforcements promised by her father, had used most of her supplies, and had a moral obligation to perform this mission, to complete this Aliyah. She thought of her sister Tali and her mother Rivka, and with a quick prayer, she steeled herself for what was to come.
With a deep breath, Ziva sprang the trap and infiltrated the central structure of El Ayum by picking the lock. A minute later, gunshots echoed from the structure, prompting the skeleton crew to wake up and head to Saleem's tower, leaving a cacophony of noise in their midst. Two minutes later, Ziva was ambushed, surrounded on the ground level of the tower, with a giddy Saleem shooting down the staircase leading to the upper floors. Ziva used all of her bullets, then gave plenty of men new scars to complain about, but even she could not defend herself from all angles. Surrounded by men wielding metallic rods of longer reach than her knives, Ziva was eventually taken down, searched, and taken to a cell. As she was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, her broken body developing bruises everywhere, a smirking and satisfied Saleem Ulman violently stomped on her discovered phone, unknowingly signing his death warrant. He would be dead in a little over 45 hours, and Ziva's capture would ultimately lead to his downfall.
As Ziva lay on the floor, her body battered and bruised, she couldn't help but think that this was not the end. She had been in tougher spots before, and she had always managed to come out on top. She thought of her training, her skills, and her determination, and she knew that she would find a way to escape, to complete her mission, and to bring Saleem Ulman to justice. The question was, how would she do it, and when would she get her chance? Only time would tell, but for now, Ziva was trapped, and Saleem Ulman was celebrating his victory, unaware of the storm that was brewing, a storm that would soon engulf him and bring him down.
The soothing sounds of jazz music that had been filling NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee's apartment were abruptly interrupted by the insistent alarm blaring from his computer. As he quickly scrambled to his desk, his eyes scanned the notification that had triggered the alarm, and his heart sank. The message informed him that Ziva David's phone signal had been lost, and the location where the signal had stopped was displayed on the screen: in the middle of the ruins of El Ayum, by Ceelaayo, Somalia. It had been five long days since he had uncovered secrets and uncomfortable truths regarding Mossad, and the agents associated with his wayward, and now lost, teammate Ziva.
Those five days had been a whirlwind of activity, as Tim had dedicated himself to gathering every scrap of information he could get on Saleem Ulman, the man who had been at the center of the chaos. Most of the information had come from the files he had hacked from Mossad, mainly from Michael Rivkin's profile, since Saleem was originally his target to kill. As Tim delved deeper into the files, he had been shocked by the sheer volume of terrorist activities that had occurred in the region Saleem Ulman occupied. Dozens of attacks on religious missionaries, mainly Americans, had pushed the Congress of the United States of America to give a blanket permission of approval on any military operation that resulted in Saleem Ulman's death and the destruction of his terrorist group. Many of Saleem's terrorist targets had been Israelis, which had prompted the wrath of Mossad. The agency had been relentless in its pursuit of Saleem, and Tim had uncovered evidence of several attempts and acts of piracy off the coast of Somalia, one such attempt involving an attack on a Littoral Combat Ship, which had resulted in a dead marine and drowned Somalian pirates. The more Tim learned about Saleem, the more he became determined to find Ziva and bring her home safely.
It had been five days since a determined look had entered Tim McGee's eyes, fueled by his grandfather's wisdom, as he searched for ways to keep an eye out for Ziva, even while on the other side of the world. His colleagues, Tony and his boss, had noticed the change in his behavior, which had started two weeks after Ziva had decided against returning to the US. However, neither man had commented on it, and Tim had been grateful for their discretion. As Tim looked at the time, slightly after 1900 hours, a surge of anger caused him to grind his teeth and clench his jaws. It looked like Eli David, Ziva's father and the director of Mossad, had not deployed the help he had promised his daughter, busy as he was with whatever he was up to now. Tim's anger turned to determination as he thought about the oversight, and he endeavored to make it the biggest mistake in Eli David's life. He quickly dove into his computer, hoping to bend the rules slightly in order to rescue Ziva. He would rather stay out of Guantanamo Bay, thank you very much! The thought of being caught and facing the consequences was not going to deter him, not when he had a chance to save his friend and teammate.
Phillip Davenport, the Secretary of the Navy, sat at his desk, wrapping up the last few tasks of the day. The past 72 hours had been a whirlwind of intense politics, with a plethora of high-level briefings dominating his schedule. The multi-agency counter-intelligence operation, spearheaded by the Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS), had been at the forefront of his mind. As the head of the Navy, Davenport was no stranger to the intricacies of the various Federal Agencies and branches of the government. However, the sequence of events that had led NCIS to take the lead in a counter-intelligence operation against one of America's closest allies, Israel, was a scenario so extraordinary that it seemed like the plot of a Hollywood blockbuster.
Typically, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) was responsible for monitoring the activities of friendly nations, and they had made their discontent with the current situation known. The CIA had traditionally been the primary agency tasked with gathering intelligence on allies, and their displeasure at being bypassed in this instance was palpable. As Davenport pondered the implications of NCIS's new role, and the leadership of Director Leon Vance, a video call request suddenly popped up on his computer screen. The call was from a rather unexpected source: four-star Navy Admiral John McGee, a technophobic veteran of the Navy who was currently stationed off the coast of Japan. Davenport's curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't help but wonder what could be so urgent that Admiral McGee, a man notorious for his aversion to modern technology, would resort to a video call. With a hint of trepidation, Davenport accepted the call, expecting to see the familiar, weathered face of the admiral. However, as the video feed connected, he was surprised to see a younger version of Admiral McGee staring back at him. The admiral's usual gruff demeanor was replaced by a look of concern and urgency, and Davenport's instincts told him that something was amiss.
Phillip Davenport, the Secretary of the Navy, looked at the young man on his screen, his eyes narrowing slightly: "Good evening, young man," he said, his voice firm but with a hint of curiosity. "How did you manage to get these credentials? I wasn't aware that anyone from NCIS was scheduled to meet with me tonight."
Tim McGee, the young NCIS Special Agent, kept his eyes locked on the Secretary's: "Good evening, Mr. Secretary," he replied, his voice respectful but urgent. "I apologize for the intrusion, but I have an extremely urgent matter to discuss with you, sir. I am NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee, of the Major Case Response Team at the Navy Yard. Admiral John McGee, is... my father, Sir."
Phillip Davenport's expression changed, a hint of surprise and interest flickering across his face: "You're one of Gibbs' team, and John McGee's child, I presume?" he asked, his voice a little softer. "Alright, Agent McGee, what's so urgent that you felt the need to bypass protocol and come to me directly?"
Tim McGee took a deep breath, his words spilling out in a rush: "I have information that has led me to the location of Al-Shabaab terrorist, Saleem Ulman," he explained. "He's the one responsible for the attacks on American Missionaries in Somalia over the past three years, and the attempted attack by Somalian Pirates on task force #43 of the 5th Naval Fleet. But that's not all, sir - I have reason to believe that he's currently holding NCIS liaison agent Ziva David prisoner."
Phillip Davenport's eyes widened, his face darkening with concern: "Saleem Ulman?" he repeated, his voice low and deadly. "How did you manage to get this information, Agent McGee? "
Tim McGee's face was set, his jaw clenched: "I hacked into Mossad's database, sir," he admitted, his voice firm. "I know it was a risk, but I had to get the information, and I didn't have time to go through the proper channels."
The Secretary's eyes narrowed, a hint of surprise flickering across his face.: "That was you?" he asked, his voice dripping with incredulity. "I've been getting reports of unrest among members of the Israeli Embassy and among known Mossad members, but I had no idea it was an NCIS agent."
Tim McGee nodded, his eyes locked on the Secretary's.: "Yes, sir," he said, his voice unwavering. "I believe that time is of the essence, sir. I have stolen intel from Mossad, including information they've collected from Al-Shabaab members. Given Congress's approval to eliminate them, I humbly request that you initiate an operation to take out Saleem Ulman and his organization."
Phillip Davenport leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Tim McGee's face through his computer screen: "And part of that operation would involve rescuing the liaison agent, I presume?" he asked, his voice firm.
Tim McGee nodded, his face set: "Yes, sir," he replied. "Of course, taking out Saleem Ulman would be the primary objective, but rescuing Agent David would be a priority as well. We can't leave one of our own in enemy hands, sir."
Phillip Davenport leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he pondered the situation. He had the authority, granted to him by Congress, to greenlight any Navy operation related to the terrorist Saleem Ulman. Moreover, he was aware that Mossad Director Eli David had recently suffered a devastating cyber attack at the hands of Agent McGee. Given the current counter-intelligence operation against Mossad, having Ziva David on their side could prove to be a valuable asset. This, in turn, would likely involve the entire Major Case Response Team (MCRT) of the Navy Yard, either directly or indirectly. However, Agent McGee's actions had not gone unnoticed, and a reward might be in order for his role in hacking Mossad. Davenport's eyes refocused on the screen in front of him as he began to speak, his voice firm and authoritative. "Agent McGee, there's a plane taking off from Andrews Air Force Base at 0600 tomorrow morning, heading to Camp Lemonnier, in Djibouti City. I'll make sure to save you a seat. You won't need to bring any clothes, as we'll provide you with everything you need. Please send me all the information you've collected on Saleem Ulman. I'll draft the necessary paperwork to be presented to your director tomorrow, along with a detailed explanation. A kill, rescue, and destroy operation should be in the works or completed by the time you arrive."
On the other end of the line, Tim McGee responded promptly, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Davenport nodded, and replied, "God Speed, Agent McGee." As he terminated the call, his computer began to ping with notifications, informing him that various documents were being delivered to him. These documents would ultimately lead to the demise of Saleem Ulman and provide the upper hand they needed over Mossad.
Davenport pulled up a familiar document on his computer and began to fill in the relevant information for Agent Timothy McGee to assist in the Navy operation. He was already looking forward to his conversation with Director Vance in the morning, anticipating the discussion that would take place. For now, though, he needed to focus on completing the paperwork and forwarding McGee's information to Camp Lemonnier. With a sense of purpose, Davenport delved into the task at hand, his mind racing with the possibilities that this operation could bring. As he worked, Davenport's thoughts turned to the potential benefits of having Ziva David on their side. Her knowledge and expertise could prove invaluable in their counter-intelligence operation against Mossad. He made a mental note to discuss this further with Director Vance, exploring the possibilities of bringing her into the fold. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this operation could be a game-changer, not just in terms of taking down Saleem Ulman, but also in terms of gaining the upper hand over Mossad.
With the paperwork complete, Davenport forwarded McGee's information to Camp Lemonnier, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having set the wheels in motion. He leaned back in his chair once again, his eyes fixed on the screen as he pondered this evening's events. He was confident that he and Leon could achieve their goals and come out on top. The fate of Saleem Ulman, and the future of their counter-intelligence operation, hung in the balance, and Davenport was ready to do whatever it took to ensure their success.