Notttteeeeesss!

Sorry for the kinda long wait... The end of school is fast approaching, and finals loom. In other words, I've been holycrapbusy for a while. I'm still writing... Just slower. This was also a harder chapter to write, since now we come to that sketchy point in the story where I have to try and think of an at least somewhat credible way of NCIS tracking down in a couple days a terrorist cell that Mossad has been trying to find for months, if not years... I'm not all that happy with this aspect of the story, but oh well. :/

Also, as has been pointed out to me, the scene were the team get Ziva's necklace appears before the scene where nasty-man rips it off her neck. Ummm.... Oops. :) Guess my timeline's a little hinky. Basically, scene one with Ziva takes place a day before scene two of Ziva, shortly after which the video and necklace would've been shipped off to the team. Which means both Ziva-scenes took place before the parts of the story with the team. Of course, unless that nasty bastard Eli David is lying through his teeth, (I don't like him much- can you tell?) then that means the package got from Somalia to NCIS in less that three days, which seems somewhat unlikely... Ah well. Hopefully the timeline's back on track now.... :P

The more I write, the more I think of things I'd like to change in previous chapters... Not to much to do about that now, but I'll probably edit the whole thing and repost after I've finished writing. So, if you guys could consider this a rough draft and maybe give some feedback or point out any errors, that'd be great. :D

Alrighty then, nuff rambling from me!

***

The man who entered the door this time was not Ziva's tormentor. A guard, or some other subordinate, she supposed. Crossing the floor to her, he gripped her lower jaw roughly, forcing her mouth open before pouring water down her throat.

Ordinarily, Ziva would've been strongly tempted to fight him, spit the water back in his face, but as it was, she knew better. Since her capture, she'd been given barely enough water to keep her alive, and for the last three days, she'd been left completely alone. Her head pounded with a pulse that sent waves of nausea through her. Even despite her injuries, she doubted her ability to stand. She could only imagine what she looked like...

This in mind, the Israeli temporarily swallowed her pride, and the water. When the cup was empty, the guard exited without a word. Moments later, the door grated open again, and her previous tormentor entered.

"Miss me?" he sneered, puffing cigarette smoke in his face.

"Like a dog misses fleas," Ziva croaked, yet unable to resist the satisfaction of the sarcastic retort. She got that idiom right, the Mossad officer thought with a flash of satisfaction. Tony would be proud.

However, for all her defiance, the torture, dehydration, and isolation had taken their toll on her mind. During her three days isolation, she'd began hallucinating- images of her father, Gibbs. They would stand in the corners of her prison, their gazes stern and accusing. Michael and Tony would stand in front of her, side by side, asking her to choose. Ari, asking her why she'd killed him. She knew the visions were not real, but that didn't make their anger much more bearable.

Her captor grinned tensely. "Still so much fire, Officer Day-vid," he remarked, intentionally mispronouncing her name once again, "And there I thought we were getting somewhere."

Casually, he pressed his cigarette to her cheek, grinding its tip into her flesh so that Ziva felt like a hole was being burned through the skin. It took all her strength of will, but she stayed stock-still, yet determined not to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

She wouldn't be able to keep up her pretense much longer, though.

Dropping the cigarette butt into her lap absently, the man moved behind Ziva, out of her line of vision. Another technique she knew. The Israeli did not react, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground in front of her.

"You could be pretty," her captor observed, stroking her hair, "Were you not in this... Distasteful state. For that, I give you another chance. Tell me about you precious American friends."

Ziva ignored him. Things were obviously about to get rough again, and God knew she needed her strength.

The man moved back around her, kneeling to her left. He took her hand, tenderly holding it.

"Such a shame," he lamented in a voice of fake disappointment.

He dislocated her thumb, and Ziva cried out. Without pause, her tormentor moved on to her index finger, systematically removing the joints from their sockets. When he had finished with her hand, he looked up. The Mossad officer was gasping in pain, Ziva fought to steady her breathing. In the back of her head, she remembered a conversation she'd had with Tony: "I vowed never to be captured alive." She wished she'd been able to keep her word.

"Come on," her captor tempted, squeezing her hand so that her joints grated and jarred. Ziva screamed again, past caring for her pride. "It does not had to be so hard," he told her, "What do you owe NCIS? They left you. You were never one of them," he convinced her, but even weakened and in pain Ziva would not believe him. She could not allow herself doubt, that was what he wanted.

"Everything," she rasped nearly inaudibly, "I owe them everything."

Tony had to admit, he hadn't known there even were commercial flights to Somalia, but amazingly, only five hours since opening the package, here he was en route to Africa with Ethiopian Airways. He really wondered at times if Gibbs was, as Abby believed, magic.

It was a quiet flight. The plane was next to empty, and Gibbs slept almost the entire trip, as usual. Tony just sat, looking out the window and wondering if he was all to blame.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs' voice snapped him out of his gloomy meditation. How the hell did he read his mind, even when he was asleep, for God's sakes?

"Stop blaming yourself," Gibbs ordered brusquely as always.

Tony glanced miserably at the floor. "If I hadn't... She'd still be here," he pointed out.

"Maybe," Gibbs acknowledged, "Or maybe not. The whole thing was rotten DiNozzo, the boards were gonna break sometime."

"I screwed up!" Tony berated, his voice angry. "I stuck my nose in, and screwed everything up, and now she's gone!"

Tony wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from Gibbs, but the slap to the back of the head somehow made him feel better. "You listen here Tony," Gibbs commanded forcefully, "I ordered you to keep an eye on her. You sayin' I screwed it? You watch your partner's six. You can finish whining when we've got her ass out of here."

Tony nodded. Gibbs was right, and as usual, his head-slaps and unsympathetic lectures were what got that through to younger agent.

"That clear, DiNozzo?"

"Crystal, boss."

------

"I knew Gibbs shouldn't've left her in Israel! Something like this always happens, now Ziva's in trouble and Tony and Gibbs are heading for it and we're stuck back here waiting to see what happens and if they're OK and if-" Abby ranted almost hysterically.

"Abby!" McGee cut it. "The best thing you can do for them right now is get in touch with your NASA friend."

"Right," Abby, answered taking a deep breath. "NASA, satellite, focus Abby..." she tapped furiously at her keyboard. Moments later, a webcam window popped up on her screen.

"Hey Abby!" the man greeted her, "How's it going?"

"Hi Ashton," Abby replied hurriedly, "Actually, not so great, a got a friend in trouble."

"And you want to use the satellite?" Abby's ex-boyfriend inferred. "Not much going on here. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks Ash! You are a wonderful person." Abby proclaimed. "Can you get us a look a Somalia?"

The satellite technician frowned in surprise. "That must be one shitload of trouble your friend's in."

"You have no idea," Abby confessed worriedly, "She was tracking a terrorist cell-"

"Um, Abby?" McGee cut in. He was pretty sure this wasn't exactly supposed to be common knowledge.

"OK, OK," Abby answered, going back to tapping at her computer.

"You didn't use satellites to find the cell in the first place?" Ashton asked Abby.

"Well, it wasn't really our op..." Abby confessed, "I guess Mossad didn't have access to technology like this."

Abby's friend raised his eyebrows. "Mossa- Never mind. I'm just going to stop asking," he decided, going back to tapping at his computer.

As soon as the flight landed, Gibbs dispatched Tony to find coffee, while he "made a call or two". After returning with two steaming cups of liquid and a paper bag of squished pastries, the younger agents settled on the airport seats and listened to his boss's conversation. So Gibbs had contacts in Somalia, too? The surprises never ended.

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah, well, I've been told. No. Promise. No, I can't. It's important. Sure. Sure, no prob. OK. Yeah, I owe you one. Whatever. Thanks." Gibbs snapped the phone shut, deftly swiping a coffee, as well as the croissant Tony had been about to bite into.

"You're welcome, Boss." Tony grumbled good-naturedly, retrieving another croissant from his bag.

After taking a couple of swigs of his coffee, Gibbs opened his phone again, holding down a number of the speed dial.

"Abs. Whacha got?" he asked, cutting right to the chase.

"Gibbs!" the forensic scientist's squeal was loud enough for Tony to hear. "How's it going? Everything OK? Tony's good too, right?"

"Abby, we haven't even left the airport." Gibbs chuckled.

"Well, a lot can happen on a plane, boss-man. Remember that time when Air Force One sorta-almost got hijacked until you saved everyone? Anyway, you know how Tony gets in to trouble." Abby justified herself in a single breath.

The supervising agent had to admit she had a point about Tony. "Tell me what you have, Abs," he demanded.

"Well, right now, not a lot." Abby admitted, "But we're scanning every nook and cranny of Somalia with that satellite, and as soon as we find anything, you'll be the first to know," she assured him. "Well, actually McGee will, since he's helping me, and obviously there's me... But you'll be the third!" Abby clarified. "Anyways, speaking of McGee..."

"Hi boss," McGee's voice came in over the phone. "So I, uh, gained access to some files Mossad had on the op, and I have a possible ID on one of the terrorists. His name is Nazih Kadur, also known as Rahim Abdullah. I emailed you everything I have on him." McGee reported.

"That's a good job, McGee." Gibbs praised his agent. "Call me when you get anything else. Tony!" Gibbs got the attention of his senior field agent. "C'mon," he ordered, rising and heading for the airport exit.

***

Ethiopian Airways really does do flights to Somalia. PM me if you want to join me on my Ziva rescue mission. We leave next Wednesday. :D

Ah if only....