Ziva moved quickly through the neighborhood, staying away from the main roads as much as possible. She left the stolen car in Stafford, Virginia after contacting a plastic surgeon that she knew was loyal to her father. Before she left for America, her father gave her a list of contacts that he trusted, and that she suspected kept tabs on her. The doctor could not hide her nervousness as she gave Ziva the drug she was asking for, some cash, and a change of clothing. Ziva knew that the stern warning she issued not to tell her father she was here would be ignored, and maybe that was a good thing. If what she planned did not work out, she would need his resources to get out of the country.

After a commuter train and three bus rides, she came to the house of the man she knew would work hard to make things right for her again.

Gibbs.

Walking up the front steps, she heard loud voices. Tony was there, and it did not sound like Gibbs was very happy with him, although it seemed that Tony was standing up to him. Unable to understand what was being said, Ziva realized that she had to decide. She could hope that this was the beginning of the end of Gibbs' and Tony's friendship and that Gibbs would toss Tony aside to help her. Or she could accomplish her main objective and eliminate Tony DiNozzo for good.

The decision was easy, although the execution would be tricky. She rushed over to Tony's car sitting in the driveway and checked for an unlocked door. It was not going to be that easy. She pulled out her picks and prayed that she could work quickly enough to not be caught. Getting the door open and climbing into the space between the front and back seats, she was willing to wait. Quickly pulling the anesthetic drug from her bag and preparing the needle, she knew she would only get one chance.

The driver's side door was suddenly yanked open, and Tony climbed into the seat. The slamming of the door left little doubt that he was upset. 'Perfect.', Ziva thought. The drive was smooth and quiet, with Tony staring straight ahead the entire time. The car eventually stopped, and the engine was turned off. Tony was tightly gripping the steering wheel when he suddenly slammed his fists against it and shouted, "That bitch!".

Ziva sprang up from behind the seat and wrapped her left arm around Tony's neck to impede any movement towards the door, then quickly jabbed the needle into his neck with the right arm. She knew it was working as the tight grip Tony had on her arm loosened and his body went slack. A hard push to the right and the upper part of his body was on the passenger side of the car.

The position Tony's body was in looked uncomfortable, but Ziva didn't care. She scanned the area, berating herself for not being more careful before she attacked Tony. They must be in the parking area of his condominium. It was a nice, well-lit area, that luckily did not have anyone walking around at that time. She pulled out the disposable phone she purchased and called a number she remembered by heart.

Timothy McGee was at home sitting at his writing desk, thinking about pretty much everything. He kept going over Tony and Ziva's altercation in the bullpen. Ziva had lashed out in hurt and anger, and Tony had just sat there looking cold and unaffected. Maybe he didn't make the final decision, but it was obvious that he wanted Ziva gone.

And how come he was left out of the decision to fire her? Tim knew that he was brought onto the team because he had a certain skill set, but they were still a team. He understood there was concern about her passing sensitive information back to Mossad, but a quick computer search could prove her innocence. But if it happened over the phone or through a contact, that was another thing. Tim slowly shook his head. If he had been included when Gibbs and Tony decided, he could have convinced them to not be so quick to get rid of Ziva. Do some investigating first, and stick up for your teammate. Then that whole ugly scene in the bullpen wouldn't have happened.

The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. The number was listed as unknown and debated whether to answer. He resigned himself to the possible torture of a telemarketer. How much worse could this day get? "Hello?"

"McGee!" The shout startled him, but he knew exactly who it was.

"Ziva? How are you? I really wanted the chance to say goodbye, and – "

"I do not have time for your small talk McGee." Ziva interrupted. "I need a place to stay."

"What?" McGee was confused. "Aren't you in Israel? What's going on?"

"I will leave for Israel tomorrow. I just need some time alone. Your apartment will not do, I need a more private place." She explained to a stunned McGee.

"Um, yeah. I…I mean, my parents have a house in Rockville they are trying to rent out. I guess it will be ok for one night. Do you need a ride?"

"No. Just give me the address and I will meet you there. Thank you, McGee."

"Yeah, sure." He mumbled as he searched for the address of the rental property. What was going on with Ziva now? Maybe he should call Gibbs, but he wasn't sure that there was anything to tell him. Ziva said she would be gone tomorrow and that seemed to be what his boss wanted anyway. What could be the harm of helping Ziva one last time?