Gibss knew it the moment he heard Ziva scream. It wasn't a stop-messing-with-me-right-now-or-I-will-hurt-you-bad-scream. Or a look-out-there-is-threat-right-beside-you-scream. It was that kind of scream filled with angst, panic and shock, the kind he would never forget. He had never heard Ziva scream like that before. Automatically he started running towards her. She was standing at the end of the roof, looking down. Her face was white from horror, and it looked as if she was frozen on the spot. The moment he stood next to her, time stopped. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
About 16 feet below the murderer of three little children was bleeding to death. Next to him lay Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Motionless. Face down. With one bullet hole in his back.