“Jethro! It’s about time!” Ducky’s reproach was welcome to Gibbs’s ears as he and McGee walked into the hospital room.
“Sorry, Duck,” said Gibbs as he sat in a chair beside his old friend’s bed. “We just found out.” He smiled. “But we made up for it. Abby’s waiting for us to finish up and then you two can talk science or tell stories, or whatever you two do together.”
“Oh how delightful!” said Ducky enthusiastically. Since the team had stopped doing as many on ship investigations, he and Abby hadn’t really had time to spend together.
“What happened, Ducky?” asked Tim from his position in the doorframe. He was uncomfortable in hospitals, and he wasn’t really sure what he was doing here. Gibbs had given him a vague outline of the situation on the way to the hospital, but Tim was still utterly confused.
“An unfortunate incident with our good friend La Grenouille, Timothy.” Ducky’s usually pleasant manner darkened as he mentioned the Frenchman. He looked at Gibbs seriously. “Apparently, our lovely director and young Anthony were still keeping secrets from us.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tim, shock on his face.
“What I mean, McGee, is that Tony was doing more than spying on La Grenouille’s employees.” Ducky’s voice was bitter. He resented being lied to. “He’s been dating his daughter.”
Gibbs’s eyebrows shot up. McGee’s eyes looked like they were desperately trying to escape the confines of his face, they were so wide.
“Excuse me?” asked McGee, blatantly displaying his incredulity.
“Tony’s girlfriend came to the bar to introduce him to her father. The man she introduced Tony to was La Grenouille.” Ducky spoke plainly, an odd departure from his usual rambling nature.
While McGee was still digesting Ducky’s words, Gibbs pushed the conversation forward. “What happened to Tony and Ziva?” asked the team leader sternly. Now was not the time for emotion. He’d wait until he had his agents back and safe before tearing into them.
Ducky sighed remorsefully. “I’m afraid I am partly to blame what happened.” The medical examiner fastened his eyes on his lap in a rare show of vulnerability. “When Tony’s mysterious girlfriend showed up out of the blue, Ziva and I were naturally curious. So, we followed them outside….” Ducky paused, his gaze hardening. “When I saw La Grenouille, I stepped out into the open. He spotted me, recognized me, and the whole evening went to hell when our spook friend, Mr. Kort, shot me,” the Englishman spoke bitterly. “Some goon incapacitated Ziva and she and Tony were taken away in La Grenouille’s limousine while I lay bleeding in a parking lot.”
Gibbs sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t suppose they told you where they were going before they made their getaway, did they?” he asked ruefully, glancing at Ducky out of the corner of his eye.
Ducky shook his head, eyes downcast. “I’m afraid not, Jethro. La Grenouille didn’t afford me that courtesy.”
Gibbs ran a hand down his face. “You said they incapacitated Ziva. Did she look like she needed emergency care?”
“Fortunately not.” Ducky met Gibbs’s eyes again. “She just appeared to be a little out of sorts. The blow was meant to stun, nothing more. They are both fine.”
Both McGee and Gibbs looked relieved at the reassurance of their colleague.
McGee turned to Gibbs, hope in his eyes. “So, they’re alright,” he said eagerly. “La Grenouille isn’t going to kill them, or he wouldn’t be taking care not to harm them.”
“It’s not that easy McGee.” Gibbs’s voice was grim. “La Grenouille didn’t have to take Tony and Ziva. He already knows what we know, and he could have easily incapacitated them at the scene and made a getaway if he wanted.” Gibbs suddenly stood and began to pace agitatedly. “He’s not desperate; he’s in control. Tony and Ziva are only alive so he can have his fun.”
McGee looked nervously from Gibbs to Ducky and back again. “So, what does that mean?”
“It means, Timothy,” Ducky muttered darkly, “that it is no skin off of Master La Grenouille’s nose if either of them die. If one of them rubs him the wrong way, they have a good chance of getting killed.”
“I thought that wasn’t La Grenouille’s style.” McGee still looked doubtful.
“Yeah, well our director has changed the rules,” growled Gibbs, heading for the door. “Come on, McGee!” he called back. “We have work to do.”
Not a moment after the two men left did Abby come rushing in. “Ducky!” she cried, quickly engulfing the Scotsman in a hug. “Are you okay?”
Ducky put on a reassuring smile. “Now that you’re here, my dear,” he said before giving the forensic specialist a kiss on the forehead.
“What happened?” Abby looked at Ducky’s leg in slight horror.
Ducky sighed. “Honestly, I think it is up to Director Shepard to share that information with us.”
Abby’s eyes lit with sudden understanding. “The Frog.” It wasn’t a question.
Ducky nodded in confirmation. “The Frog.”
---
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
Ziva glared at her partner. “Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious,” she remarked snidely, shifting into a more comfortable position.
“I think you mean ‘Captain Obvious’, Officer David.” Jeanne spoke up from where she sat on the bed.
Ziva just rolled her eyes before wiggling around some more. “Instead of correcting my English, do you think you could get us out of these chairs instead?” she asked tautly.
Before Jeanne could respond, the door opened admitting her father. “Why would she do that, Officer David?” he asked in the condescending tone that Ziva was beginning to think was some odd form of speech impediment.
Ziva glared at the arms dealer. She stared him straight in the eyes with a strength that few other than Ziva could maintain.
“What?” La Grenouille cocked his head to the side in a mock hurt manner. “Have I said something to offend?”
“You don’t need to say anything when your actions turn stomachs on their own, Frogger.”
La Grenouille turned sharply to face Tony who looked quite satisfied with his comment. “I would tread carefully if I were you, Agent DiNozzo.” La Grenouille nodded to his thug. In the blink of an eye, the hulk drew Ziva’s gun from the back of his belt and had it pressed against her head. “It is not just your life at stake here.”
Ziva’s face darkened into a scowl, as the muzzle of her own weapon was pressed into her temple. She refused to be a damsel in distress any longer. Taking a deep settling breath, Ziva leaned forward in her chair enough for her feet to touch the floor.
Just as quickly as the gun had been placed to her head, it was sent flying across the floor as Ziva smashed the chair she was tied to into the minion. The man careened into the wall before slumping to the ground, his leg twisting awkwardly underneath him and sending him into unconsciousness as it broke under his weight.
The force of the motion combined with the weight of the chair ripped the duct tape from the back, freeing Ziva while the chair flew into Trent Kort. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed La Grenouille eyeing the gun. They locked eyes.
Both lunged for the firearm at the same time.
---
“This looks like the spot, Boss,” said McGee as he held up a swab with a positive test for blood.
“Get a sample. We’ll test it against Ducky.” Gibbs looked around the parking lot. Picking up a smashed cell phone that looked like NCIS issue, Gibbs sighed. “They didn’t leave us much to work with here,” he grumbled. “McGee!”
The junior field agent jumped to his feet. “Yes Boss?”
“Shoot and sketch as quickly as you can. Then we’re going to go back and check out limousine companies.”
“Limousine companies?” McGee confused for a second before comprehension showed on his face. “To see if we can find La Grenouille’s car,” he said, nodding.
“Yep, and when that doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.”
---
“Don’t move”
La Grenouille stepped back from the angry Mossad officer, as her reclaimed weapon was pointed directly between his eyes.
“Now, Officer David, are you really going to shoot me?” the arms dealer asked, his usual confidence only slightly damaged.
“You haven’t given me a reason not to,” said Ziva, watching out of the corner of her eye as Kort tried to stumble to his feet. Slowly, Ziva maneuvered herself, so La Grenouille was between her and Kort in case the CIA agent pulled his weapon on her.
Jeanne stood frozen next to the four-post bed staring at the gun leveled at her father. She and La Grenouille locked eyes for a moment. La Grenouille smiled slightly, and turned back to Ziva. “You wouldn’t shoot a father in front of his daughter, would you?”
Ziva seemed to contemplate the arm’s dealer’s words for a moment before her eyes turned icy again. “A father like you is not worth mourning,” said Ziva harshly, her eyes glinting like hardened steel. Her finger twitched on the trigger guard.
---
“Have you heard from the Frog again, Director?” asked Gibbs coldly as Jenny came down the stairs from her office.
“No,” said Jenny frankly, ignoring the chill in Gibbs’s tone. “And that’s starting to worry me.”
McGee looked shell shocked. “Do you think something’s gone wrong?” Tim’s fear was obvious.
“McGee, get back to work.” Gibbs headed towards the elevator, motioning for Jen to follow him. “The Director and I are going to have a little talk.”
McGee dipped his head in confirmation before going back to checking names on limousine rentals.
Gibbs and Jenny stepped into the elevator. As was expected, the moment the elevator doors shut, Gibbs reached over and flicked the emergency stop switch.
As the room went dark, the two turned to each other, staring each other down with the same intensity they used on murderers and terrorists. It was the director who backed down first.
“You can’t pin this on me, Jethro,” she said, looking less convincing than she sounded. “I have no idea what’s going on right now.”
Gibbs’s glare just intensified. “You forgot the part where this whole La
Grenouille mission was to satisfy your need for revenge, Jen.”
“Gee, Gibbs, I’m sorry for trying to put an arms dealer behind bars.”
“At what cost, Jen?” growled Gibbs angrily. “Manipulating a young woman to get to her father? Putting my agents in danger?”
“Every agent who takes this job knows the risks,” said Jen sternly.
“That doesn’t give their director the right to gamble with their lives, Jen.” Gibbs leveled his stare at her. After he was sure she was significantly uncomfortable, Gibbs continued. “Look, we’ve already had this conversation. I want to know why we haven’t heard from the Frog yet.”
Jen sighed. “I think Tim might be right,” she said sadly.
Gibbs nodded. “Something went wrong.”
Jen continued. “Hopefully in Tony and Ziva’s favor. But,”
“If it had, you think they would have called by now.” Gibbs finished her thought for her.
Flicking the switch again, Gibbs and Jen stood silently as they waited for the elevator to open again.
The moment they got out, Cynthia called to them. “Director, you’ve got a call.”
---
A blinding pain struck Ziva as a lamp was smashed into her spinal cord. The Mossad officer was sent careening into the wall before crashing to the ground. As she fell, the gun went off once before she lost her grip on it.
“Jeanne!” Tony cried out as his girlfriend stood over his partner, broken lamp clutched tightly in her hands.
The young doctor turned watery eyes on Tony. “Sorry, Tony,” she said softly. “He’s still my father.”
“I knew I could count on you dear,” said La Grenouille as he pressed a palm to his head, fresh blood seeping between his fingers.
“Daddy, you’re bleeding!” cried Jeanne as she went to her father, checking him over.
“I’m fine, darling.” La Grenouille grunted as his daughter gently prodded where the bullet had grazed his forehead. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Well, it’s a scratch I’d like to get looked at,” said Jeanne.
Before any further comment could be made, Trent Kort stalked up to Ziva who had made it up to her knees, picking her up by the throat and smashing her back into the wall.
Ziva swung her leg, hooking it around Kort’s, pulling it out from underneath him, and sending them both crashing to the floor again.
Both spies rolled, easily regaining their feet, and stared the other down.
Ziva moved first, throwing a right hook just to have it blocked. Her arm was forced to her side as Kort manhandled it before throwing a punch of his own.
Ziva ducked the blow, thrusting her left fist into Kort’s stomach while he kept hold of her right. The CIA agent bent over slightly from the blow, causing Ziva’s arm to twist even more uncomfortably.
As she was distracted by the pain in her arm, Kort brought his elbow up and slammed it into Ziva’s back in almost the exact same spot Jeanne had hit her with the lamp. Ziva cried out as the blow knocked her flat on her front.
Kort didn’t waste time tacking advantage of her prone position and picked her up from the floor only to throw her violently onto a glass table causing it to shatter.
The moment she hit the table, a white hot flash of pain told Ziva there was something really wrong. More pain burrowed into her back as Ziva fell hard on a shard of glass. Another grotesque piece was buried in her side between her stomach and hip.
Tony stared in shock. At first, the whole spy fight had been cool. It was like being in a James Bond movie, but now…. He managed to look away from the gruesome sight of his partner lying with blood gushing from her as pieces of glass rose jaggedly from her body.
As Ziva failed to rise, Kort took out his gun, seemingly intent on finishing her off, only to be stopped by La Grenouille.
“That’s enough, Kort,” said the arms dealer as his daughter clutched his arm. “The neighbors probably heard the table shatter, and we need to get out of here.”
The CIA agent looked hesitant, but eventually put his gun away. Going over to the still out-cold goon, Kort pulled one of the minion’s arms over his shoulder, hefting him onto his back. Kort strode angrily out of the room, not waiting for La Grenouille to follow.
“Come on, Jeanne,” said La Grenouille gently. He used one hand to press against his wound while the other was wrapped around his daughter’s waist.
Jeanne slowly nodded. The past few minutes had asked a lot of her nerves. Still clasping her father’s arm, Jeanne left the room with him.
From the bedroom, Tony could hear the heavy hotel room door close. Squirming, Tony tried to loosen the duct tape. When that didn’t work, he tried to inch his chair closer to his partner’s body.
Tony had only made it a foot when he heard the door open again. His movements had left his back to the door, so he didn’t know who was coming in. He stopped moving, afraid it would somehow encourage whoever was coming back to finish the job.
His eyes widened in surprise when he felt his bonds being cut. The moment he could move his torso, he whipped around coming face to face with Jeanne. “Jeanne!”
Jeanne didn’t look at him as she finished sawing through the duct tape with a steak knife she must have taken from a room service tray. Once finished, she moved to leave the room, but Tony grabbed her arm.
“Jeanne, wait.”
“I can’t, Tony,” she said, pleadingly. “I have to go help my father. I just told him I have to say goodbye.” Jeanne pulled away again, this time making it to the door before Tony got up and grabbed her again. “Tony, I can’t…”
“I know.” Tony interrupted her. “Just tell me how to help Ziva.”
Jeanne sighed, looking at the prone form that hadn’t moved since it hit the ground. “Without surgery, there’s not much you can do,” she said finally, looking Tony in the eye. “Just keep her warm and try to stem the blood flow. I wouldn’t recommend taking out the glass. It’s actually helping to slow the bleeding.”
Tony nodded, and with those words, Jeanne Benoit walked out of the room, and out of Tony’s life.
Tony took only a moment to process the loss of the woman he loved before a harsh gasp centered him on what he had to do. “Ziva,” he muttered, running over to her, allowing shards of glass to dig into his knees as he knelt beside her.
Ziva’s eyes were wide open, her mouth forming an O as she tried to draw in breath. “Tony,” she managed to wheeze, her hand haphazardly reaching toward her partner’s face.
Tony gently took her hand in his, placing it on the side of his face. “It’s alright, Ziva,” he said gently. Keeping her hand there, Tony twisted around, reaching to grab the cover from the bed, pulling a couple pillows down with it. One handedly, he shook the pillows out of their cases.
Reluctantly, he placed Ziva’s hand back down at her side, so he could wrap a pillowcase around the shard of glass protruding from her side.
Biting his lip, Tony leaned down to whisper in Ziva’s ear. “Ziva.” He called her attention gently. “I have to turn on your side now. Okay?”
Ziva nodded tightly, and Tony carefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him revealing what looked like just a tiny sliver imbedded in her back. “Oh,” said Tony, his eyebrows raised. “That doesn’t look so bad.”
As he went to wrap a pillowcase around it, however, he got a closer look. “Oh my God.” The statement came out with a gush of air as Tony pulled a little at the skin around the glass. It wasn’t a small shard; it was huge. Most of the glass was buried deep in the flesh of Ziva’s back, leaving only a small fragment visible.
Tony wrapped the pillowcase around the sliver as gently as he could, wincing every time Ziva flinched. When he was finished, Tony put his face right in front of Ziva’s, staring her in the eyes.
“Ziva,” he whispered, gently shaking her when she gave no indication of noticing his face right in front of hers. When her eyes finally cleared, Tony continued. “This isn’t good.”
“No shit, DiNozzo.” Ziva’s choked voice was soft, but clear enough to be heard. “What was your first clue?”
Tony almost smiled. Ziva never did pass on the opportunity to throw an insult his way.
Gently, he pulled the coverlet he’d pulled from the bed over her, trying to avoid the glass. “Don’t worry, Ziva. I’ll take care of you,” he said as soothingly as he can.
For a moment, Tony sat, his mind swirling as he tried to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, his eyes found the phone by the bed.
“Idiot,” Toy muttered, promising to ask Gibbs for a head slap the moment Ziva was safe.
---
“Boss, I’ve got ‘em.” McGee stood from his desk, grabbing the remote and bringing a limousine registry up on the screen as Gibbs made his way back to the bullpen. “La Grenouille’s limousine service. A car was signed out this afternoon. I put out a BOLO.”
“Good work, Tim,” said Gibbs, not looking up from his computer screen.
An insistent ringing had Gibbs reaching for his phone. “Gibbs,” he said tersely, ready to tell off any yahoo who thought it would be a good idea to assign his team a case at the moment.
“Boss, it’s me.”
“Tony?”
Tim stopped typing immediately when he heard the senior field agent’s name.
“Yep,” said Tony over the phone. He sounded exhausted.
“Where the hell are you?” asked Gibbs anxiously.
“Hospital, Boss.”
“What?”
“Yeah, we’re uh…Ziva’s…she,” DiNozzo uncharacteristically stuttered.
“Ziva’s what DiNozzo?” demanded Gibbs. He understood his agent was probably under a lot of stress right now, but now was not the time for it.
Gibbs could hear Tony’s sigh over the phone. “Ziva…she’s not good, Boss.”
Gibbs sighed heavily. “What hospital are you guys at?”
“University,” said Tony, and odd note in his voice.
“That’s where Ducky is, too,” said Gibbs, mostly to himself.
“Really,” asked Tony. “Is he alright?”
Gibbs smiled a little. “He’s fine. We’ll be right there, Tony.”
“Okay, Boss.” With that, Tony hung up.
“Was that DiNozzo?” The Director’s voice anxiously came from upstairs.
“Yeah,” said Gibbs tersely. He was still angry with her. “He’s at the hospital. Something’s wrong with Ziva.”
Jen nodded. “I know,” she said. “That was Trent Kort on the phone. He said La Grenouille was injured in a scuffle with Ziva, and she was badly wounded because of that.” Jen’s face hardened. “They left her and Tony at the Barclay Hotel, so they could get La Grenouille taken care of.”
“I don’t suppose he mentioned the part where he was the one who shot Ducky,” said Gibbs as he stood, holstering his weapon. He motioned for McGee to do the same.
“No, he didn’t,” said Jenny. “He was also unclear as to the extent of Ziva’s injuries.”
“Shocking.” Gibbs started heading towards the elevator, McGee following close behind. “Coming, Director?” he called back.
Jen was already halfway to the stairs when Gibbs called to her. Without missing a beat, she did an about-face calling out to Cynthia where she was going, and joined Gibbs and McGee in the elevator.
---
“Did you make the call, Kort?” asked La Grenouille as he sat patiently while his daughter wrapped his head in some bandages they’d picked up at a drugstore as the rode in his limousine.
Kort nodded. “While Gibbs and Sheppard are busy looking after their agents, we’ll fall off the grid.”
“Good work, Kort.” La Grenouille winced as pressure was applied to his head.
“We should really stop by the hospital, Dad,” said Jeanne as she tried to be more gentle with her ministrations. “I can pick up some antibiotics and pain relievers from the pharmacy, and a splint for your man, there.” Jeanne gestured to the still unconscious man slumped next to Kort.
“No,” said La Grenouille forcefully. “It’s too dangerous.”
“So is letting that wound fester, Dad,” replied Jeanne just as forcefully. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“Jeanne.” Now La Grenouille’s voice was pleading. “You assaulted a federal agent, and if she dies, you could face murder charges.”
“YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” Jeanne’s voice was turning hysterical. “I’m a doctor, Dad. It’s my job to help people, not hurt them. So please, at least let me do my job now and get you the medication.” By the end of her little tirade, Jeanne’s voice was choked with tears.
La Grenouille took a long look at his daughter. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and she looked horrible. The night had damaged her, and La Grenouille was afraid that it would become permanent if he didn’t grant her this one request.
“Very well,” he said at last before instructing the driver to take them to University Hospital.
“René,” began Kort, before being cut off.
“If you have a problem, Mr. Kort, I can have you dropped off at the front gate of the Navy Yard instead. I’m sure NCIS has quite a bit to say to you.” The finality in La Grenouille’s tone stopped any further argument.
Silence reined the rest of the way to the hospital.
---
“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called out to his senior agent as they spotted him sitting in a waiting room down the hall.
The agent’s head snapped towards his boss’s voice. “Boss!” he called back, standing as quickly as the lacerations on his knees would allow. “You made it.”
“Of course I did, Tony,” said Gibbs with uncharacteristic gentleness even putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Looking his senior agent directly in the eyes, he asked the burning question. “What happened after you guys left Ducky?”
Tony let out a gust of air. “La Grenouille took us to the Barclay Hotel.” Tony smiled wryly. “Things never do go well for me and Ziva there.”
Gibbs nodded, letting his senior agent ramble. They all remembered the near disaster when Ziva and Tony went undercover as married assassins at the Barclay.
Tony took the cue to continue. “We spent most of the time tied to chairs in a room with Jeanne…La Grenouille’s daughter.”
“I’ve told him about the mission, Tony,” said Jen, cutting off Tony before he explained further.
Tony glared at her before continuing. “Right, so the three of us talked, then La Grenouille came back in, and Ziva freed herself.” Tony had to pause for a moment before continuing. “She managed to knock one guy out with the chair as well as knock Kort on his ass, and she had La Grenouille at gun point….” Tony stopped. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell them Jeanne’s role.
“Then what, Tony?” asked McGee from the corner of the room.
Tony sighed. Now was not the time to withhold information. “Jeanne hit her with a lamp.” Seeing his fellow agents staring at him, he hastily continued. “But only to protect her father. Really, she’s not a violent person or anything.”
“It’s alright, Tony,” Gibbs reassured. “Just tell us what happened next.”
Tony’s jaw clenched as he thought of what happened next. “Trent Kort grabbed her. The fought, and he threw her onto a glass table.” Tony gulped uncomfortably before continuing. “Then they just left us there. If Jeanne hadn’t come back in and untied me…”
Gibbs knew what came next. “She might have died.”
Tony nodded.
“How bad is it, Tony?” asked Jenny quietly.
“Pretty bad, Director.” From Tony’s tone, Jen guessed he was another agent not ready to forgive her for this mission. “Some of the glass went in really far. The doctors are giving her a forty percent chance.”
A grim silence settled over the group at the proclamation.
Suddenly, Tim’s phone started ringing. Pulling it out, he quickly answered it. “McGee.” Everyone watched as McGee’s eyes widened as he listened.
“Who was that?” asked Jen after McGee hung up.
McGee turned to stare at Gibbs. “Our BOLO came in on that limo, Boss.”
Gibb’s eyebrows shot up. “Where is it?”
“Here.”
“At the hospital?” asked Jenny, her eyes wide.
McGee nodded. “South entrance.”
He had barely spoken the words when Tony set off running, his legs carrying him hastily through the hospital despite the stinging wounds.
The other three were quick to follow, Jen kicking off her heels to keep up with the men.
---
La Grenouille watched anxiously as his daughter went into the hospital. “Kort,” he said, turning to his associate. “Go with her, make sure she’s alright.”
Kort nodded and got out of the car.
La Grenouille waited until he saw the CIA agent enter the hospital before pulling out a bottle of cognac and a glass from the mini bar under the seat.
Pouring himself a glass, he looked at the unconscious man with disgust.
“It is a shame I’m not sharing this with better company.”
---
Jeanne looked anxiously over her shoulder at the man her father had sent to watch her as she waited for the pharmacist to get the medication she asked for. His capacity for violence made her nervous.
“Here you go, Dr. Benoit,” said the nurse at the pharmacy, giving Jeanne a big smile as she handed over the medication. “You’ll have to go to the ER to get a splint, though.”
Jeanne smiled tightly. “Thanks, Martina.”
“No problem,” said the bubbly woman. “You must be on that new case.”
Jeanne cocked her head to the side. “What new case?” she asked.
Martina looked surprised. “Didn’t you hear?” she asked. “A couple of federal agents just came in. One of them had a piece of glass stuck in her so deep it almost went through.”
Jeanne’s and Kort’s, who had heard the conversation, eyes widened.
The CIA agent quickly approached the desk, grabbing Jeanne’s shoulders. “We have to go now,” he said, ignoring the confused gaze of the pharmacist.
Jeanne nodded, and the two quickly headed for the exit.
Just as they made it to the doors, Tony came bursting out of the emergency stairwell doors followed by three others that Jeanne assumed were his co-workers.
“Tony!” cried Jeanne.
“Jeanne!” Tony called back.
Gibbs leveled his weapon at Jeanne and Kort. “Freeze!” he commanded.
A deafening boom suddenly assaulted the ears of all five as La Grenouille’s limousine exploded.
Jeanne stared at the smoldering wreck that was her father’s car. “Dad,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the inferno. She didn’t even react as McGee came up and gently handcuffed her. All she did was stare unblinkingly into the flames.
---
The next few weeks went by both incredibly quickly, and agonizingly slowly for Tony.
Abby had found out that the components of the bomb that blew up La Grenouille’s car were the same found in several other murders of arms dealers. It seemed the Frog had been a victim of his own criminal activity.
No criminal charges had been filed against either Jeanne or Trent Kort.
Gibbs had been furious when he heard the CIA had gotten Kort out of prison, but his anger abated slightly when he heard Kort was being reassigned to a wilderness outpost in Siberia to use his knowledge of arms trading to watch out for Russian nukes. At least the bastard wouldn’t be living the high life he had with La Grenouille.
No one objected to Jeanne’s exoneration. Most of them understood what she had gone through, and they knew that she was just protecting her father.
It seemed like it had only taken moments for an entire year of undercover work on Tony’s part to completely unravel.
Every night, however, he went to sit at Ziva’s bedside at Bethesda after she was moved there. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as he waited for her to recover. The doctors had managed to stabilize her after a marathon surgery, but she had yet to completely regain lucidness. Her doctor said it was due to the massive blood loss and painkillers.
Still, Tony took what he could, and he showed up every night on the off chance that Ziva would have a good night and actually be able to carry a conversation.
It was during one of these conversations that they finally addressed what had happened.
“You know, Tony,” said Ziva. “I don’t blame you.”
Tony looked up surprised from the small cup of ice cream he’d requisitioned from the cafeteria. “For what?” he asked, hoping the conversation wasn’t going down this path.
“You know what,” she said patiently. “Believe it or not, I have had to lie to people I care about to maintain a cover. And, yes, that has occasionally caused problems for them.”
“Did you ever get any of them impaled on a glass table?” asked Tony darkly.
“No,” said Ziva simply. “But I have gotten them caught in a cross fire.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” said Ziva, looking out the window. “My third deep undercover assignment. Tali was only thirteen and we were out on the town when my mark spotted me.”
“Wow,” said Tony. “That had to be scary.”
Ziva nodded. “For a moment, I thought I had signed my sister’s death warrant.”
Tony looked her in the eye. “How do you deal with it?” he asked.
Ziva sighed. “You either harden your heart, or quit.” She gave her partner a significant look when she said the last part.
Tony seemed to understand. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks.” The classic DiNozzo smile was back. “I’m never playing Trading Places with you again, David.”
“Oh, I saw that one!” said Ziva excitedly.
The rest of the evening was spent talking about what Eddie Murphy movies were the best.
Eventually, wounds both physical and emotional healed. Many had left scars, but even those often fade with time. The major case team of NCIS would face many more battles, and be scarred again. That was their job. If they couldn’t survive it, someone else would have to in their stead. That’s why they’re the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Their job was to serve, even when it meant giving of themselves.
END
Well, that took forever to write. At least it’s all over now. I know; the ending’s corny as hell. I was feeling preachy.
Thank you for reading! Hopefully my next story will have more Abby in it.
Peace,
Hobbit Killer
Author's Chapter Notes:
The Conclusion