Disclaimer: I don't own.

This will have a sequel, just letting you know.


Ziva, Ari, Haytham and two other men were making their way to the garage. Ziva and Ari had decided the best time to make their move would be when everyone was setting out to post the letters. They each had a large number, to drive around distributing small piles in every post-box. Ari shot Ziva a meaningful look, she nodded. It would be risky to attack these three men. At least two had guns, which was far too large a gamble when they were the only people in the world who weren't terrorists and knew what was going to happen. They waited as two men climbed into cars and began to start down the long drive. Ari leant down by Haytham's ear, quickly. Alarm bells rang in Ziva's head, prompted by years of training. She didn't like not knowing what was happening, and Ari hadn't mentioned this to her. Before she had time to think beyond just instinct though, Haytham had whipped around, drawing an object from his pocket, and she was looking down the barrel of a gun. Her hand went to her hip as a reflex, but there was nothing there. She turned to Ari and found herself looking down another barrel. Her eyes widened in shock, and she looked him in his eyes, where she saw a flash of regret, but they soon hardened.

"Sorry, Ziva," was all he said, and she understood she'd been getting it wrong the whole time.

She stared a little longer.

"Everything you said to Gibbs, Ari . . . you weren't lying."

He still said nothing. The shot rang louder than any explosion. She made her way down the stairs, stared at his body. A man she'd barely met, dead. Look into his glassy, unseeing, clear blue eyes. It had happened enough times before, you'd think it wouldn't hurt so much. But he'd laid his life in her hands, and she may as well have killed him herself. She turned to receive comfort from his murderer, her brother. He understood. So did she. It was necessary. It was necessary, she'd kept telling herself that, it was necessary. And now she knew it wasn't. Now she knew Ari was mad, and that his act had been purely personal. And she had helped this psychopath, this terrorist, this unrecognisable creature before her, with the cold eyes and the harsh mouth, and the gun to her head, helped it to kill a good man. And this thing, if he had been telling the truth about her father, and really, she knew he had, this thing and another one nearly just as bad they were all that was left of his family. Having everything she cared about torn away in a split second left Ziva feeling empty, indifferent, and had it not been for suddenly remembering why she was here, she strongly expected she would have just let Ari kill her then. As it was she remembered ten thousand envelopes full of a newly developed virus, which could pass to millions of people, and she pulled out the knife that was fastened to the small of her back, and jabbed it into the side of Haytham's neck. She tugged it out as he fell, and turned to Ari, who had stepped back but still had a gun trained on her.

"Ari, please don't."

-----

Ari stared at his sister in hatred. Hatred for her, for not just being compliant, for putting him in this position. Hatred for their father, for putting her in this position. Hatred at himself, for holding a gun on the last person left in the world that he cared about. The cars, noticing the commotion, began to turn around and drive back to help their boss. Ziva slowly made her way over to Haytham's body.

"Ziva, don't move."

She ignored him. His finger trembled on the trigger. She took the dead man's gun, and started firing at the cars. One shot cracked through a windscreen, instantly killing a driver. The other car turned as quickly as possible. Ari still hadn't moved or made a decision when a different car came zipping around the corner. Recognising the two men in the front, Ari sprinted to his motorcycle and started it, speeding past the NCIS agents and out the front gate that they had left open.

-----

Tony jumped out the driver's side, and McGee climbed in as quickly as possible, turning to pursue the second car. He caught up quickly, two of its wheels had been damaged by bullets, and stepped out. He raised his gun and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax, McGee," said Gibbs. "Take aim. Now."

He softly squeezed his finger in, and without the driver, the car span off the road.

-----

Tony understood now why Kate couldn't stab Ari. Those eyes . . . must be a family thing. They seemed to plead with him. Plead for what? Forgiveness? Life? What she said next shocked him.

"Shoot me," and she let the gun in her hand clatter to the ground.

What else could he do? He couldn't let her go – not the person who could've saved Gibbs and didn't. And if not him, it would be Mossad, or someone else from NCIS. He wouldn't put it past Director Shepard. No, no doubt she would kill for Gibbs.

"Do I have a choice?"

She wondered why he didn't just kill her. What else was there for her? She'd been in his position and she knew that her death wouldn't make him feel better, but she also knew letting her live would make him feel worse.

"Not really, Tony. Just promise me you'll get Ari too."

He nodded, and she smiled gently. She was broken, and alone. Her life lay in shreds around her, all the lies revealed, and all she wanted was to believe them again. She couldn't go on with the knowledge of what she'd done, she couldn't go on with the aching emptiness in her.

"Do it now, please."

Against all his logic and training, he closed his eyes when he pulled the trigger.


Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Sorry everyone. I should point out in this fic he doesn't know her that well and she let Gibbs die and I'm incredibly sorry. I won't even ask for reviews. Actually, screw that. Drop me a line, tell me what you thought of the story, even if it's just 'why the hell did you make Tony kill Ziva' or ruder variations of that. Also, though I don't object to flames, if you fancy having a reasoned discussion about it, or even just giving me the chance to defend myself, leave a signed review.