Chapter 4
"Infidels," Al-Fulani muttered under his breath when he caught sight of the agents on the ground preparing to apprehend him. His hand gently fingered the weapon in his hand as he turned it to the side, assessing the weight. He had entered the plane unarmed, as he would never have made it through security otherwise. After boarding the plane, he noticed there were very few passengers following, although the gate area had been crowded. Suspicious by nature and always at the ready, he made his way to the restroom at the front of the plane, between the first class and coach areas. He eased into first class ahead of the male agent, and as the silver-haired man pushed through the curtain into the front section of the plane, he hit him soundly in the head with a fire extinguisher that he had grabbed from the wall outside the restroom. He grabbed the man's weapon, and then slid into the cockpit as a young flight attendant exited, securing the door behind him.
Al-Fulani stepped away from the controls, allowing the plane to slow. He peered through the peephole on the cockpit door, and could see the male agent lying in the floor, the oblivious blonde flight attendant tending to his wounds. He did not spot the female agent that had entered the plane with the silver-haired man. The young Israeli agent was standing, waiting patiently for him to exit the cabin. Her back was pressed against the wall, and her breathing making no sound. He planned his next moves out in his head: he would take the flight attendant hostage, kill the agent, find his partner and neutralize her as well, and then use the hostage to secure his release. He said a quick praise to Allah and placed an L-pill between his teeth in case things did not go according to plan. He would not be taken alive.
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As soon as the door began to open, Ziva pointed her Sig into the crack and began to fire. Al-Fulani retreated into the cockpit, but had not expected the agent to block the door from securing. Ziva began to push her way in behind him.
"Federal Agent!" she identified herself.
"Allah Achbar!" he shouted in response, firing his weapon and grazing her shoulder.
Ziva rolled her eyes and winced, but refused to give up ground.
"Hazir," she muttered as she raised her weapon to fire. Her eye was caught by a slow movement from the corner of the cockpit, and her shot missed the terrorist by inches. Capitalizing on the advantage, Al-Fulani brought his weapon down with both hands, knocking the agent's gun from her grasp. She responded more quickly than he imagined a woman could, with a swift kick to the hand holding his gun. While dead-on in accuracy, her blow had not been enough to force the man to drop his weapon. Ziva shifted quickly to the left just as he fired, barely avoiding the bullet. She swiftly landed an elbow to Al-Fulani's temple and a simultaneous knee to the groin. He moaned, bending at the waist. Ziva laughed as she wrested the gun from his hand. She met his gaze, and with a knowing look shoved the heel of her hand into his jaw, forcing him to break the seal on the L-pill.
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Ziva slumped against the door of the cockpit as Al-Fulani convulsed his last breath. She then gathered her energy and made her way to the floor where her boss still lay, his head still resting in the lap of the young flight attendant.
"Crazy ninja skills," she heard him mutter. She smiled as she looked into his eyes.
"All in a day's job," she replied.
"Work," he corrected her with a smirk. "All in a day's work."
"Whatever. He's dead, yes?" she asked.
"Definitely," Gibbs responded, his blue eyes became more alert with each passing moment. Her eyes reflected her concern. "I'm glad you are okay."
"Me too," he quipped. She chuckled.
Their conversation halted as FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell entered the room.
"If you two are through lying down on the job, we have a suspect to interrogate," he said, his eyes showing relief at seeing both NCIS agents faring well.
"I'm afraid he's already answering to his maker," Gibbs answered with a chuckle.
"Then let's get you two some medical attention…" Fornell began.
"I'm fine," both Gibbs and Ziva answered simultaneously. Fornell smiled.
"What you are is stubborn," he replied. "Don't make me call the Director," he smirked.
"Oh, geez," Gibbs complained. "Can't I just have aspirin and a shot of bourbon?"
"Gibbs, you have lost a lot of blood and undoubtedly have a concussion," Ziva reasoned with her boss. "You should definitely go to the hospital."
"Only if you will," he said, inclining his head toward her bleeding shoulder.
"Deal," she said with a smile.
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