Chapter 1

It's been several weeks now but the sadness was still there, mingling around the bullpen, intermixing with the sounds of paperwork and the cacophony of noise from the other teams.

Leon Vance had never seen a sadder bunch than the broken team down below.

McGee was missing from his usual place; most likely, he was with Abby, comforting her on the departure of someone who they all thought could trust.

DiNozzo was actually doing paperwork while looking every five seconds at the phone; as if the person he was yearning to talk to would spontaneously call him at any moment.

And Gibbs- he was looking forlornly at a photo, his fingers ghosting over the silhouette.

They all looked to be in mourning. And, Vance realizes with a start, that the metaphor wasn't exactly in the wrong. They were all missing this one girl who had decided to leave them, who just did not know who to turn to or who to trust anymore. Vance couldn't really blame her; after all, look at who she has for a father.

Bearing the team no longer, he went back into his office for some much deserved caffeine, away from the depressing scene below.

So it came as a surprise to Vance when two hours later, just when he was about to leave for home, Eli David decided to call him.

"Director, there's a call for you on line three. The Director of Mossad." It was his assistant.

Vance rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming. Why did the director of Mossad decide to call now, after all this time? He may consider himself a close ally of Eli- never a friend- but his trust in him was definitely wavering.

"Patch him through."

"Yes sir."

A pause and a click, signaling the transfer of calls, and Eli David's voice filtered through. "Shalom my friend."

Vance hesitated for a second before replying. "Shalom to you too Eli. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

A heavy sigh. And then, "I'm afraid, Leon, that I feel anything but pleasure today."

Wait what? Vance's brain automatically started conjuring up all manners of plans that would have displeased the director of Mossad enough that it would warrant a call to him. "What exactly-"

"Ziva has been compromised."

Well that got Vance's attention. "I was not aware that she was in any operations."

"It was not for you to know."

Vance didn't like this. He was fishing for any information now.

"And why are you informing me of this Eli?" He was already wondering about what would happen if this gets to light. Would his already screwed up team grow even more inept at their job?

"She was part of your agency for four years. I am not so spiteful that I would not let you know about this… unfortunate incident."

Vance bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood. "She's dead?"

A stiff tone. "No. Not yet."

"Are you sure she was compromised?"

A blunt and bitter laugh. "Of course. If not, Ziva would have contacted us. Ziva, if anything, is thorough. Considering she has not made contact with us means only one thing."

Vance rubbed his head again, suddenly feeling the pressure of his headache turn ten times worse. "What can I do for you Eli?"

"Nothing. I only wish to inform you, and in extent, the team Ziva was in about her… circumstance. That is all."

"I can't do that."

"And may I ask why? I don't quite understand what you mean by that." He sounded genuinely confused.

"If I tell them, they will all go to hell and back to rescue her. And I cannot have that happening. Not on my watch."

Silence. "If they go, they will die."

"And that's why they can't know."

Another silence. "I understand. Tell them or tell them not. It is your call."

"My sympathies are with you Eli."

"Duly noted. Shalom."

"Shalom."

Click. Dial tone.

Vance hooked his phone back on the receiver and sighed. What a mess. His mind mulled over the possibilities on how to handle this situation. Arranging his facial expressions as not to give anything away, he walked out of his office. Leaning against the metal barrier on the NCIS 'catwalk', he surveyed the team below.

McGee was now back at his desk, frantically typing on his computer, finishing up some paperwork. DiNozzo was now packing up his bag, ready to leave, his shoulders slumping as they have been ever since Ziva had left.

Vance then looked further towards Gibbs and met his fierce steely eyes. His intent was clear: Back off. You've done enough.

And with that, Director Leon Vance turned away and marched back into his office to collect his bags, aware of the Agent's eyes on his back the whole time.