Author's Note: This is my first NCIS fic. I usually write for Grey's Anatomy and have also written for Private Practice, but I am an NCIS obsessive climbing the walls after the finale so I've decided to make the transition into NCIS fic. Please review for me. It'd be much appreciated. I hope that you like it.


Chapter 1 – Trouble is Her Only Friend

Ziva woke up, not immediately knowing which room they had taken her to this time, whether it was day or night or how long she had been captured for. The only thing that she did know was that she was still there and that even the Mossad, arguably the most efficient intelligence agency in the world, had been unable to find her… if they had even been looking for her in the first place. Ziva lifted her head and that small movement seemed to send sharp, piercing pains through every part of her body, causing her to cry out despite her best efforts to stay silent and stoic. She opened her eyes as wide as she could but could barely see anything due to the facial swelling caused from repeated beatings. Across the hard cement floor, Ziva heard the heavy footsteps of her captors and their hushed voices speaking in Arabic, but before she could make out what they were saying, a sudden blow to her head knocked her back into unconsciousness.

"What've you got for me, Abs?" Gibbs asked nonchalantly as he exited the elevator and went into Abby's lab, expecting the same frosty reception that he had received from her since his return from Israel minus a member of their family, one week earlier. He was right. Abby gave him an angry glare and ignored the Caf-Pow that he placed on the bench beside her before informing Gibbs of the DNA evidence found from their latest crime scene. Abby avoided eye contact with Gibbs the whole time.

"That's good work, Abby," Gibbs said after she had finished, satisfied with the conclusions that she had reached in such a short space of time. Abby nodded vaguely, clicking away at the computer screen in front of her. Usually Gibbs had to be the one to end their lengthy conversations but lately he hadn't been able to get a single word out of Abby that didn't relate to a case directly at hand.

Gibbs started to leave but stopped himself just before he reached the elevator.

"Look, Abs," he started to say, turning back around. But by the time that he had turned back around, Abby had sealed herself behind her glass door and appeared to be busy at work on another computer, taking no notice of him. Her Caf-Pow remained untouched on the counter. Gibbs looked back around Abby's lab and noticed that she had positioned two mops against a bench where the agents often stood when consulting her. A picture of Tony and a picture of Ziva were stuck to each mop, something that Abby had done before when the team had been split up. Gibbs sighed to himself, replaying his conversation with Ziva on that tarmac in Israel over in his head once again before forcing himself to think back to the present.


"I'm taking a break," Gibbs announced to McGee and the two temporary agents who were occupying Tony and Ziva's desks. The agents looked surprised as Gibbs went to the elevator and exited the building.

"Gibbs doesn't take breaks," Agent Johnson, the youngest of the two temporary agents said to McGee, nervously.

"He must have a good reason, Probie," McGee replied. McGee always thought that he would enjoy the day when he got to call someone 'Probie' but all it did was remind him of how quickly things had changed. "Keep chasing up on those leads," he told the two temporary members of his team before getting into the elevator himself and heading down to Abby's lab.

"What was that for?" McGee asked Abby when he was met with a glare as the elevator doors opened.

"Sorry," Abby said from where she was running fingerprints through the AFIS database. "I thought you were Gibbs again." McGee sighed.

"Abby," he said. "I know you're upset but this isn't all Gibbs' fault. I miss Ziva too but she had the choice to board the plane back to D.C and she chose to stay in Tel Aviv." Abby shook her head defiantly.

"He left her behind," she said. "I really didn't think he'd let this happen again, McGee." McGee sighed again, knowing that there would be no reasoning with Abby. "And I know I'm fast," Abby continued. "But I'm not that fast. I don't have a match for you guys yet."

"It's okay," McGee replied. "I came down here to take you to lunch. You've been working non stop lately. Come on, you need a break." McGee gently put his hand on top of Abby's, which was clicking away at the mouse, until it was resting and she agreed to stop working.


"Dinozzo," Gibbs said sternly, addressing Tony's voicemail, the only means of contact that he had had with him since the day they had returned to D.C. That night, Director Vance had ordered Tony to take a week's leave to recover from his injury and the events which had culminated in their visit to Israel. "I don't care whether you're in the building or not, you still work for me and you will answer your damn phone when I call you!" When Tony still didn't pick up, Gibbs slammed his cell phone shut and went into Tony's apartment building.

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs shouted, knocking on the door repeatedly, after Tony didn't answer. Finally he heard footsteps dragging across the floor inside and the door opened. Gibbs had expected Tony to be less than his jovial self but he was shocked when he saw him. Wearing a singlet and jeans which looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks, unshaven and bleary eyed, Tony looked anything but the sharp, image-conscious Agent Dinozzo who commanded attention at NCIS.

"Oh hey, boss," he slurred.

"You're drunk," Gibbs said, disapprovingly.

"I'm not working," Tony replied, letting Gibbs into his apartment.

"It's not even 11am, Dinozzo," Gibbs said as his eyes travelled around the apartment, looking at the mass of fast food containers and dirty laundry which littered the floor. He started Tony down as he sat on the couch and waited for an explanation, to which Tony simply topped up his scotch glass. Before Gibbs could open his mouth to try and snap Tony out of the mood that he seemed to have descended into, his cell phone began ringing.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he said, thinking that it had better be important.

"Special Agent Gibbs," said a familiar voice.

"Director," Gibbs replied coolly.

"We have a situation," Vance said officially. "I need you back at NCIS now. "It's a matter of national security." The line went dead and Gibbs closed his cell phone.

"Get up," he said to Tony who was slumped on the couch, drinking. "You're back on duty now." Tony shook his head, reading the time on his watch.

"I still have 22 hours," he slurred in response. "Or is that 20? I can't see if that's a two or a-"

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs snapped, cutting him off. "Get up, get a clean shirt on and get in the God damn car."

"Yes, boss," Tony replied, admitting defeat.


Fifteen minutes later, after excluding the two temporary members of the team from their meeting, Gibbs and Tony entered Director Leon Vance's office where McGee was already waiting for them.

"Tony?" McGee said, as surprised by Tony's shabby appearance as he was to see him. Tony merely nodded in response, not sober enough to respond with one of his trademark witty comments.

"Special Agent Gibbs, Special Agent Dinozzo," Vance said, greeting them and trying to ignore Tony's drastic change in appearance. "I've just received intelligence from a sister agency which indicates that there is a terror attack planned on American naval interests at several African ports. It's estimated that up to 3000 Marines could be in the line of fire. The agency that we have been liaising with believes that this particular cell is operating out of Somalia. They have officers in the zone but…" his voice trailed off.

"But?" Gibbs prompted him.

"Their team has officers in the area but they have experienced mass causalities and some officers have been captured."

"What agency?" Tony asked, speaking to Vance for the first time. Vance looked uncomfortable for a moment, all too aware of the mess that Tony had recently found himself in. "What agency?" Tony asked again, louder and more urgent this time.

"Mossad," Vance replied. Tony felt his blood run cold. Gibbs' jaw clenched tightly.

"This terror cell," Gibbs started. "It's the cell that Rivkin was working on taking out, isn't it?" Vance nodded.

"And Ziva?" Gibbs asked.

"I have been informed that Officer David is missing, alongside several other Mossad officers involved in the mission," Vance answered.

"Jesus Christ," Tony said to himself, under his breath, his heart pounding.

"We're sending a team, led by you, Gibbs, to the targeted regions to secure American interests and prevent any attacks on our Marines," Vance explained. Special Agent Gibbs, Special Agent Dinozzo, pack your bags. Special Agent McGee, you will be in charge of communications for this mission."

The familiar pains shooting through every part of her body let Ziva know that she was awake once more. 'Why shouldn't I give them what they want?' she thought to herself. It wasn't as though she had the kind of classified information that they really wanted. But she knew why she had stayed silent. As soon as she told them all that she knew, as soon as they were done with her, she would be dead. Ziva had once said that she would never be taken alive but some sense of self-preservation had kicked in upon her capture and had prevented her from giving them what they wanted so that she could stay alive.

"Hashim," Ziva heard one of her captors say to another. He continued to speak in Arabic. "We are done with him." Ziva was still unable to see through her swollen eyes but she knew that the man was referring to Aharon, a fellow Mossad officer, who had also been captured and brought into the room with Ziva days, or was it weeks?, earlier. The man named Hashim responded swiftly by firing his gun into Aharon, ending his life.

"I'll make the woman talk," Their other captor said. "Just give me a little alone time with her."