Reading Time: 78 Minutes

Title: If tomorrow never comes
Author: Hedwig Edwiges
Fandom: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Action Adventure, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence-Graphic. Medical inaccuracies, Law enforcement procedures inaccuracies, Original characters
Author Note: English is my second language. Any errors are my own or might be the fault of Grammarly or Word. Thanks to hubby for the action scenes ideas and suggestions.
Beta: The Nice English Lady ™
Word Count: 65,075
Summary: Tony always expected a violent death considering his line of work. What he didn’t expect was to wake up years younger, with memories of a life that didn’t go the way he expected or wanted.
Artist: NotSally
Artist Appreciation: Thank you very much NotSally for choosing my story to provide art for. Loved our email chats and amazing art you created.

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Chapter 6 – Fast enough we could fly

The Hole in the Wall Diner lived up to its name: a small establishment wedged between two larger buildings, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Tony arrived early, choosing a booth with clear lines of sight to both exits. He’d spent the afternoon making calls and sending texts, setting pieces in motion while trying to stay under Jenny’s increasingly unstable radar.

The bell above the door chimed as Malachi entered, followed by Amit Hadar. Both men made a show of scanning the diner before approaching Tony’s booth.

“Agent DiNozzo,” Malachi nodded, sliding into the booth while Hadar took position at the counter. “Interesting day.”

“Getting more interesting by the minute,” Tony replied, sliding a menu across the table. Anyone watching would see two men having a casual lunch meeting.

“Our technical team was… impressed by the sophistication of the surveillance network they discovered,” Malachi commented, eyes on the menu. “Not standard NCIS equipment.”

“No,” Tony agreed. “Almost like someone had outside help setting it up.”

Malachi’s eyes flickered up briefly. “Indeed. Help from several sources, it seems. Some quite close to home.”

Tony absorbed that implication. So Jenny had Mossad connections beyond just the Davids. Surprising and interesting.

“Director David was quite… disturbed to learn the extent of the monitoring,” Malachi continued.

“I imagine several directors are having a disturbing day,” Tony replied mildly.

A waitress appeared to take their orders. Both men played their parts, just two colleagues having lunch. Once she left, Malachi leaned forward slightly.

“There are concerns about certain operations being compromised. Particularly those involving a mutual… friend of ours.”

Ari. Of course. “Friends can be unpredictable,” Tony commented. “Especially when they have divided loyalties.”

“Or when they’re being manipulated by multiple parties,” Malachi added pointedly.

There was more of the whole Ari situation than he ever thought? DiNozzo was not interested in jumping into any other rabbit hole.

ITNC

While Tony went through his lunch with Ben Gidon, Gibbs and Fornell sat in a private booth at their usual haunt, a quiet cafe between the two agents’ houses. Most people would have expected the two senior agents to frequent the normal police haunts, but both preferred a quieter, more discreet place to talk.

“Emily really asked about DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned, coffee cup halfway to his mouth.

“Out of the blue,” Fornell confirmed. “Said she had a dream about him needing help. Weird thing is that was the day before all this surveillance stuff started coming to light.”

Gibbs grunted noncommittally, but his mind was racing. First Tony’s changed behaviour after his near-death experience, with his comments of what might come, and now Emily’s premonition… It didn’t mean Gibbs himself had anything to fear…

“Got something interesting from the FBI cyber unit,” Fornell continued, sliding a folder across the table. “That monitoring software? Custom job. Very expensive. Same signature as some programs used by certain intelligence agencies.”

“Which ones?”

“That’s the interesting part, looks like pieces from different sources cobbled together. CIA, Mossad, even some Russian code.”

Gibbs’s eyes narrowed. “Someone’s building alliances.”

“Or burning them,” Fornell countered. “SecNav’s ready to clean house. Just needs proof of who authorized what.”

ITNC

Back at NCIS, most of Balboa’s team and Kate were busy with their fraud case. Taylor Carson, the team’s SFO, was digging into Charles Sterling’s background as per his team leader request and glad to do it for his own curiosity.

“Boss,” Carson called out, waving a printout. “Got something hinky on the new lab guy.”

Balboa moved to his SFA’s desk, reading over his shoulder. His expression darkened.

“His credentials check out on the surface,” Carson explained, “but there are gaps. Big ones. And get this… Three labs where he previously worked had evidence contamination issues. Nothing proven, but…”

“Pattern,” Balboa finished. “What else?”

“Financial records show regular deposits from numbered accounts. Started right before he applied to NCIS.”

“Someone’s paying him to be here,” Balboa mused. “Get me everything you can find on those accounts.”

ITNC

Their food arrived, giving Tony time to process that revelation. Jenny wasn’t just working with Mossad; she was playing different factions against each other. That complicated things immensely. Tony would have to dip into his notes to see if there was anything from his dream memories that would share a light on where all this might be going.

They didn’t linger, since it seemed there were too many moving parts to take care of. The conversation was short and small titbits of information were shared carefully. At the end of their meal, Malachi hesitated for a moment before offering one more comment.

“Your director,” Malachi said carefully, “She has many… projects in motion.”

“Ambitious woman,” Tony replied.

“Perhaps too ambitious. There are concerns about her stability.”

Tony thought about Jenny’s increasingly erratic behaviour. “Those concerns might be justified.”

“Medical concerns, perhaps?” Malachi suggested delicately.

Tony’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. It was interesting that Ben Gidon would bring that up when Tony was just considering how he could suggest that a health check on Madam Director could be a good idea. He had expected that the tumour would show in a scan, but not that it would already be affecting Jenny’s judgment…

“Medical concerns can impact security clearances,” he noted.

Malachi nodded slightly. “Particularly when combined with questionable alliances.”

Tony’s phone buzzed with a text from Balboa: “Sterling’s dirty. Details ASAP.”

Another piece of the puzzle. Tony looked at Malachi. “Your people still watching NCIS?”

“Of course.”

“Might want to pay special attention to the new lab assistant.”

Malachi’s eyebrow rose slightly. “Connection to our mutual friend?”

“Don’t know yet. But he’s definitely part of someone’s game plan.”

As they prepared to leave, Malachi passed Tony a napkin with a number written on it. “Secure line. Things may move quickly now.”

Tony nodded, committing the number to memory before destroying the napkin. He drove home carefully, his mind processing the meeting with Malachi.

The suggestion about Jenny’s medical condition was particularly intriguing. Why would the Mossad agent bring it up? And if her tumour was already acting up, it could explain her increasingly erratic behaviour. But it also raised concerns about how long she’d been compromised.

In his dream memories, Ducky was the one to know and help Jenny to hide her condition, but her actions were much more careful, discreet even, then. Tony hadn’t talked with the good doctor since the shooting. That thought startled him. Where was Ducky?

ITNC

Meanwhile, across town, Gibbs and Fornell were having a similar conversation with a CIA contact.

“Your new director’s been busy,” the man said, sliding a file across the table. “CIA became… intrigued. We started to dig. She’s been reaching out to multiple agencies, building quite a network.”

“For what purpose?” Fornell asked.

“That’s the interesting part. Different story for different agencies. Tells CIA one thing, Mossad another. Even got some Russian contacts thinking she’s playing their game.”

“Double agent?” Gibbs suggested.

“Try quadruple,” the contact scoffed. “Question is, who’s she really working for? Or is she just playing everyone against each other?”

ITNC

Tony’s phone buzzed with another text, this time from Henry: “Papers filed. Judge expedited. Should be processed by the end of the day.”

Good timing. He’d need every advantage in the coming days.

Pulling into his parking spot, Tony noticed Jacob’s truck already there, along with an unmarked van he didn’t recognize. The electronic security sweep, right on schedule.

“You look like you’ve had an interesting day,” Jacob greeted him at the door.

“You could say that,” Tony agreed, following his friend inside where he found BJ and Henry already settled in his living room.

“Meet Dave,” Jacob gestured to a man setting up equipment. “Best in the business for finding bugs.”

“And he’s trustworthy?” Tony asked quietly.

“Former NSA,” Jacob replied. “Now runs his own security firm. He’s seen it all and knows when to keep quiet.”

Dave looked up from his equipment. “Your friend here said you might have some concerns about surveillance. Want to tell me what we’re looking for?”

Tony considered his response carefully. “High-end stuff. Multiple sources. Both domestic and foreign.”

Dave’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting. There’s a lot of buzz coming from the agencies these last few days. When I heard you were NCIS, I thought I could speed things up for you. Never know when Government work is gonna get too exciting.”

“You have no idea,” Tony muttered.

As Dave began his sweep, Tony’s phone buzzed again. Balboa: “You need to see this. Sterling’s financials trace back to some familiar names.”

Before Tony could respond, Dave’s equipment started beeping rapidly. “Well,” the technician expert said. “Someone’s been busy. Got at least three different types of listening devices just in this room.”

“Can you tell how long they’ve been here?” Tony asked, though he already suspected the answer.

“Recent installations. Within the last week I’d say.” Dave moved to another corner. “Professional job too. Wouldn’t catch these without specialized equipment.”

Tony shared a look with his friends. Someone had gotten into his apartment while he was in the hospital.

“There’s more,” Dave continued. “Your phone lines have taps, and someone’s trying to access your WiFi network. Multiple someones actually.”

“Anything you can do?” Henry asked.

“Yep!” Dave grinned. “I can send them some interesting feedback. Make them think twice about snooping.”

Another buzz on his phone. Gibbs this time: “Tomorrow. Basement. Early. Bring coffee.”

Tony smiled grimly. Time to compare notes and plan their next moves. The game was changing rapidly now, pieces falling faster than anyone had anticipated.

He just hoped they could keep up.

ITNC

Back at NCIS, Balboa’s team was making their own discoveries.

“Boss,” Carson called softly. “Those accounts paying Sterling? They trace back through about six shell companies before hitting a familiar name.”

“Whose?”

“René Benoit.”

Balboa’s eyes narrowed. “The arms dealer?”

“The same. And here’s where it gets weird: there’s a connection to Director Shepard’s father’s death.”

“Send everything to Tony. Encrypted,” Balboa ordered. “And keep digging on Sterling. I want to know everything there is to know from before he showed up here.”

ITNC

At Tony’s apartment, Dave was finishing his sweep. “Okay, you’re clean now. I’ve installed some countermeasures that should alert you to any new attempts at surveillance. And,” he grinned, “I may have sent your friends in the van outside a little surprise.”

Tony looked out his window to see two men hurriedly exiting a surveillance van, shaking their headphones off in apparent pain.

“What did you do?”

“Let’s just say their equipment won’t be useful for a while. Might want to watch who comes sniffing around though. You’ve got some serious players interested in you.”

After Dave left, Tony turned to his friends. “So, about those investments we discussed…”

“Already handled,” BJ smiled. “Henry’s contact at the SEC gave us some interesting tips. Completely legal, of course.”

“Of course,” Tony matched his friend’s smile. “And the other matter?”

“Name change is processing,” Henry confirmed. “Should be official by morning. I also took the liberty of setting up some additional security measures for your accounts.”

“Thanks, I…” Tony was interrupted by his phone buzzing. Gibbs again: “My place. Now.”

Tony looked at his friends with a sad smile. “I need to go check with Gibbs…”

“What we talked about jumping whenever NCIS calls, Tone?” Henry answered.

“Ah, but this time I want to jump, Henry. I need to compare notes and all that.”

“Anything we could help with?”

Tony thought about how much his friends were involved at this point and shot a text to Gibbs: “Frat brothers with me.”

The answer came back quickly. “Heat is on. No civilians.”

“Sorry, guys, things are heating up. Better not to involve you more than I already did.”

The three friends exchanged glances and seemed to defer to Henry Lewis for a decision.

“I do have some contacts in law enforcement, Tony…” He started.

“Not at this level, Henry,” Tony interrupted. “Look, this is shaping up to be bigger than anything I imagined…”

“The spy versus bureaucrat thing?” BJ enquired.

“Yep.”

“Okay, we’ll go but keep us in the loop as much as you can, okay? I read John Clancy, these spy games can be convoluted and really dangerous,” Jacob commented.

DiNozzo couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, Jake, I’ll keep Clancy in mind when making plans.”

The other two smiled but started walking out the apartment.

“Take care, Tony! I’ll keep an eye on the investments we talked about,” BJ called out.

“I’ll make sure the documentation is ready tomorrow, Tone. Don’t do anything crazier than your normal,” Henry warned.

“Don’t be taken by the signs you think you see, Tony,” Jacob said seriously. “Keep your head in the game.”

Tony waved his friends out and took a deep breath. Yeah, he really needed to keep his head in the game. Things were a-moving at lightning speed.

He checked for any new messages and read Carson’s report on his finds. Charles Sterling had very interesting, and disturbing, connections. What else had Gibbs and Fornell unearthed?

ITNC

As he drove to Gibbs’s house, Tony couldn’t stop thinking how everything was muddled up. Jenny’s overreaching surveillance, Sterling’s connection to Benoit, the various agencies circling each other… It all felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark.

His phone buzzed one more time: an encrypted message from Malachi: “Director David requesting direct meeting. Watch your back. Not all players showing their true hands.”

Tony smiled grimly. Time to see just how many cards would fall.

Gibbs’s house was dark except for the basement light, as his normal. What did surprise Tony was finding not only Fornell but also Ducky waiting with Gibbs.

“Ah, Anthony!” Ducky greeted warmly.

“Ducky, where were you these last couple of days?”

“Ah, my boy, in conference with some colleagues.”

“About what?”

“This can wait!” Gibbs cut in, though his tone lacked its usual sharp edge. “DiNozzo, your sweep turned up anything interesting?”

“Three different types of bugs in my apartment,” Tony confirmed. “All installed while I was in the hospital.”

“Professional job?” Fornell asked.

“Very. Jacob’s security expert said they were high-end stuff. Military grade.”

“Not just military,” Fornell pulled out a file. “CIA confirms some of the tech matches their latest surveillance equipment. Equipment that shouldn’t be anywhere near civilian agencies.”

“Our new director’s been shopping in interesting places,“ Gibbs commented dryly.

“Speaking of Jenny,” Ducky interjected. “She was the main topic of my previously mentioned conversation with my colleagues. I’ve been reviewing some concerning patterns in her behaviour.”

Tony’s attention sharpened. “What kind of patterns, Duck?”

“Erratic decision making, paranoid tendencies, aggressive responses to minor provocations,” Ducky listed. “Initially, I attributed it to the stress of her new position, but after the description of today’s display…”

“Could be medical,” Tony suggested carefully.

“Indeed,” Ducky agreed. “In fact, I’ve already reached out to some colleagues about arranging a discreet evaluation.”

“That might have to wait,” Fornell cut in. “SecNav’s looking to move fast on this surveillance situation. CIA’s involved now too. They don’t like their tech being used without authorization.”

“There’s more,” Tony added. “Balboa’s team found a connection between Sterling and René Benoit.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“The arms dealer?” Fornell asked sharply.

“The same,” Tony confirmed. “And apparently there’s a link to Jenny’s father’s death.”

“Duck,” Gibbs turned to the medical examiner. “That evaluation, how fast can you make it happen?”

“I have some colleagues at Bethesda who owe me favours,” Ducky mused. “If we can demonstrate clear concerns about her judgment affecting national security…”

“I think today’s events qualify,” Fornell noted dryly.

“One more thing”” Tony hesitated. “Malachi Ben-Gidon says Director David wants a meeting. Apparently not everyone in Mossad is happy with Jenny’s games.”

“Or they’re trying to play their own,” Gibbs retorted.

“Director David doesn’t make personal appearances without an agenda,” Fornell pointed out.

“No,” Gibbs agreed. “But we might be able to use that.”

Before anyone could respond, multiple phones buzzed simultaneously. Tony checked his: a message from Balboa: “Sterling just tried accessing restricted files in Abby’s lab. Systems caught him. He’s in the wind.”

Gibbs’s basement erupted into controlled chaos. While the lead agent headed upstairs, presumably to get his gear, Tony was already on the phone with McGee.

“Talk to me, Probie!”

“Abby caught him trying to access her secure server,” McGee explained rapidly. “He was going through cold case files, focusing on anything involving evidence irregularities.”

“Building background for a frame-up,” Tony muttered. “Where’s Abby now?”

“With me. Balboa’s team is here too. Kate’s coordinating with building security.”

“Keep Abby there,” Tony ordered. “Sterling might try to cover his tracks.”

Fornell was having his own phone conversation. “I want alerts at all airports, train stations, and bus terminals. And get me everything on his known associates.”

“Put Balboa on the trail! Credit cards, traffic cameras…” Gibbs told DiNozzo, returning with his gear. “Ducky…”

“I’ll make those calls about our director’s evaluation,” Ducky nodded. “Perhaps this incident will help expedite matters.”

As Tony followed Gibbs to the car, his phone buzzed again, a text from Malachi: “Sterling spotted heading east on I-95. Our people tracking.”

“Mossad’s got eyes on Sterling,” Tony reported as Gibbs pulled out of the driveway. “Heading east on I-95.”

“Why would Mossad be tracking him?” Gibbs asked sharply.

“I gave them a tip earlier today,” Tony answered.

Gibbs’s phone rang. Jenny herself, based on his expression.

“Yeah, Gibbs,” he answered, putting it on speaker.

“What the hell is going on?” Jenny demanded. “Why is my lab assistant being tracked by multiple agencies?”

“Probably because he just tried to hack into secured federal evidence files,” Gibbs replied calmly.

There was a pause. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation…”

“Like the one for the illegal surveillance equipment?” Tony suggested innocently.

“Agent DiNozzo,” Jenny’s voice turned cold. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Actually, Director,” DiNozzo retorted, “it concerns a lot of people. The FBI is particularly interested in Mr. Sterling’s connections to certain international arms dealers.”

Another pause, longer this time. When Jenny spoke again, her voice had a slight tremor. “You don’t understand. This is bigger than…”

“Than NCIS? Than the FBI? Than any federal agency or international ones?” Gibbs interrupted. “Yeah, we get that picture.”“

“Jethro, please…”

“Save it for your medical evaluation, Jen.”

The phone went dead.

“That’ll push her to move faster,” Tony noted.

“Good,” Gibbs replied grimly. “Easier to catch them when they’re running scared.”

Tony’s phone buzzed – Balboa: “Sterling’s heading for Patuxent River. Navy base?”

“He’s not running,” Tony realized. “He’s heading for a meeting.”

Gibbs changed lanes abruptly, taking the exit that would lead them to Naval Air Station Patuxent River. “Call Balboa. Tell him to coordinate with base security. Quietly.”

As Tony made the call, his mind raced through possibilities. Sterling was heading to a Navy base, presumably to meet someone. Jenny was getting increasingly unstable. Mossad was watching but not intervening. And somewhere in all this, Ari was still out there, probably watching and waiting.

His phone buzzed one more time, a text from Jacob: “Dave sent a warning that multiple agencies are trying to reactivate surveillance equipment across DC. Someone’s scrambling.”

“Boss…” Tony passed the information.

“Saw it coming, DiNozzo. Question is, who’s pulling Jenny’s strings?”

“Maybe more than one puppet master,” Tony suggested. “Might explain why she’s coming apart so fast.”

Gibbs grunted in agreement, pressing harder on the accelerator. They had about thirty minutes to get to Patuxent River, assuming Sterling maintained his current course. Thirty minutes to plan how to handle whatever was waiting for them.

Tony’s gut was screaming that this was more than just Sterling making a run for it. This felt like the first domino in a carefully arranged sequence. The question was, who arranged it? And what were they really after?

His phone buzzed. Balboa again: “Base security reports Sterling’s car passed through the gates 10 minutes ago. Used valid credentials.”

“Valid credentials?” Tony repeated aloud. “How’d he got those?”

“Someone’s been planning this,” Gibbs replied grimly. “Question is, was it Jenny or someone else?”

They were five minutes out when Balboa sent another text. “Base security’s tracking Sterling. He’s headed toward the research facilities.”

“Where they test new drone technology,” Tony realized. In his dream memories, this was where Ari had tried to steal drone control systems.

Gibbs’ phone rang this time. The team leader threw it to Tony to answer while he kept racing toward their target. “Got teams moving into position,” Fornell said after Tony put the call on speaker. “But here’s the interesting part, we’ve got confirmed sightings of at least three known Mossad operatives on base.”

“Trap?” Tony suggested.

“Question is, for who?” Gibbs countered.

As they approached the base gates, Tony’s phone lit up with a text from Malachi: “Officer David on site. Not here officially. Watch your back.”

Tony’s blood ran cold. Ziva was here? Who called her? Jenny or Ari? Would Ziva know about Sterling? Gibbs said they had a quick meet earlier on, but the old Marine blocked her to “help” with the whole Ari situation. Another unknown to consider.

“Boss,” Tony started, but Gibbs was already nodding.

“Saw the tail two cars back. Mossad’s not being subtle.”

They cleared security quickly; Balboa had called ahead and they were directed toward the research complex. The night was clear but moonless, perfect for whatever was about to go down.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said quietly as they parked. “Whatever happens, remember: some things can’t be changed. Just shifted.”

Before Tony could process that cryptic warning, multiple things happened at once:

A burst of gunfire erupted from the direction of the research building.

Their radios crackled with reports of multiple intruders.

And a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows: Ari Haswari, looking exactly as Tony remembered him.

“Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo,” Ari smiled that cold smile that had haunted Tony’s dreams. “How kind of you to join us.”

“Haswari,” Gibbs growled, gun already drawn.

“Please,” Ari held up empty hands. “I’m merely here as an observer. Others have much more invested in tonight’s entertainment.”

More gunfire, closer now. Tony could hear Fornell coordinating teams over the radio, but something felt off about the whole situation.

“Where’s Sterling?” Tony demanded.

“Ah, Mr. Sterling,” Ari’s smile widened. “A most useful pawn. Though perhaps not as useful as Director Shepard hoped.”

A new voice cut through the darkness. “That’s enough, Ari.”

Ziva David emerged from the shadows; gun trained steadily on her half-brother. But something was different from Tony’s memories. Her stance, her expression… This wasn’t the Ziva who had been sent to infiltrate NCIS. This was something else entirely.

Chapter 7 – Upside down

The night air at Naval Air Station Patuxent River crackled with tension. Tony kept his gun trained on Ari while trying to track Ziva’s movements in his peripheral vision. Nothing in his dream memories prepared him for this confrontation.

“Your Director Shepard has been quite busy,” Ari continued, seemingly unconcerned about the weapons aimed at him. “Building alliances, setting up surveillance networks, placing her pawns… all while claiming to serve American interests.”

“And what interests do you serve, Ari?” Ziva’s voice was colder than Tony remembered. “Certainly not Mossad’s.”

“Ah, dear sister,” Ari’s smile turned mocking. ”Still following our father’s orders? Or have you finally started seeing the bigger picture?”

More gunfire echoed from the research building. Tony’s radio crackled with updates, multiple teams engaging, but no clear picture of who was fighting whom.

“Sterling’s not the target, is he?” Tony asked, pieces clicking into place. “This whole thing, the lab job, the surveillance, the chase here, it’s all a set-up.”

“Very good, Agent DiNozzo,” Ari nodded appreciatively. “Though I suspect you’ve known that for some time now. Ever since your… recent brush with death?”

Tony’s blood ran cold. The surveillance in his apartment. What had Ari heard? His early conversation with Jacob for sure. Maybe his mumbling about his dream memories? His notes were with him all the time, so not that.

“Enough games,” Gibbs growled. “What’s really going on here?”

“Why don’t you ask your director?” Ari suggested. “About her real plans for NCIS? About her deals with arms dealers and terrorist cells? About why she’s so desperate to get certain people in certain positions?”

“Or we could ask our father,” Ziva cut in. “About his deals with Jenny Shepard. About using his own children as pawns.”

That made Ari’s smile falter slightly. “You know?”

“I’ve known for weeks,” Ziva replied. “Ever since I found the real files about our mother. About how Father arranged everything: her death, your training, my position as your handler. All to create his perfect deep-cover operative.”

Tony watched the interplay, remembering how differently this had gone in his dream memories. There, Ziva had seemed genuinely torn between duty and family. Here, she radiated cold fury.

“Director Shepard isn’t the only one whose plans are unravelling,” she continued. “Malachi has been quite helpful in exposing Father’s network.”

“Malachi?” Ari laughed. “That loyal lapdog?”

“That loyal lapdog who’s been documenting everything,” Tony interjected. “Every deal, every manipulation, every betrayal. Including your real mission here.”

More gunfire, closer now. Tony’s radio crackled again. Fornell reported that they’d secured Sterling, who was singing like a canary about Jenny’s involvement in various schemes.

“It’s over, Ari,” Gibbs stated. ”Whatever game you and Eli and Jenny were playing, it ends tonight.”

“Does it?” Ari’s hand moved slightly. “Or is this just another scene in a larger play?”

Several things happened at once:

A new burst of gunfire erupted, this time from the rooftop above their current position.

Ziva dove forward, tackling Ari as he reached for a concealed weapon.

And Jenny Shepard’s voice rang out from the darkness: “Stop them! Don’t let them ruin everything!”

Tony dove for cover behind a concrete barrier, mind racing. Jenny shouldn’t be here. In his memories, she’d always been careful to maintain deniability. Her presence now, openly giving orders during an operation gone wrong, suggested her judgment was even more compromised than he’d suspected.

“Gibbs!” Jenny’s voice had a manic edge. “You don’t understand. This was all for justice! For revenge against the people who killed my father!

“By making deals with arms dealers?” Gibbs called back. “By compromising federal agencies?”

“Benoit had to pay!” Jenny screamed. “And Eli promised to help, if I helped place his people!”

A grunt of pain drew Tony’s attention back to Ziva and Ari’s struggle. The siblings were locked in combat, years of training and repressed fury evident in every move. But unlike in his memories, Ziva wasn’t fighting to protect Gibbs. This was personal.

“You killed her!” Ziva spat as she knocked Ari’s weapon away. “My mother! You helped Father arrange her death!”

“I was a child!” Ari snarled back. “He used us both!”

More gunfire from above. Tony spotted movement on the roof. Multiple shooters, but who were they targeting?

His radio crackled: “DiNutzo!” Fornell’s voice. “We’ve got Mossad teams engaging unknown hostiles. Sterling’s talking, says Jenny’s been working with a Russian group, promised them access to Navy drone tech!”

Tony’s blood ran cold. That wasn’t in his memories at all. What else had changed?

“It’s bigger than Benoit!” Jenny was still ranting. “Bigger than any of you understand! The whole system needs to be torn down!”

“Boss,” Tony called to Gibbs, “She’s not making sense. She’s sick…”

“What did you say?” Jenny’s voice turned sharp. “How do you know about that?”

“Because he sees more than you think, Jenny,” Gibbs replied, using her distraction to move positions. “Question is, how much do you know? How long has whatever this is, has been affecting your judgment?”

A bitter laugh. “My judgment? I’m the only one seeing clearly! Eli understands! The old agencies, the old alliances, they all need to burn!”

“Eli understands nothing!” Ziva shouted, still grappling with Ari. “He uses people, breaks them, twists them to his purpose! Just ask Ari about Tali!”

That made Ari freeze. “What about Tali?”

“She’s alive,” Ziva spat. “Father faked her death, used it to push us both further into his games. Malachi found her three weeks ago.”

Tony watched shock ripple across Ari’s face. This was completely new territory, nothing in his memories had suggested Tali’s survival.

The revelation seemed to break something in Ari. His resistance crumbled, and Ziva quickly had him subdued.

“No!” Jenny screamed. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! Ari, you promised! You promised to help me destroy them all!”

More movement on the roof. Tony spotted familiar figures. Malachi’s team, moving to surround the other shooters.

“Put the gun down, Jenny,” Gibbs ordered, his voice carrying that tone that usually brought suspects to heel.

“I can’t,” she replied, and now Tony could hear tears in her voice. “Don’t you see? I’ve given them too much. If I don’t finish this, they’ll kill me anyway.”

“Who, Jenny?” Tony asked, though he was starting to suspect. “The Russians?”

“Everyone!” She laughed; the sound edged with hysteria. “Russians, Iranians, splinter groups from half a dozen agencies! I promised them all something! Intelligence, access, revenge! Played them against each other while they thought they were playing me! The tumour just freed me to see the truth!” Jenny insisted. “To see how corrupt everything is! Eli saw it too! That’s why he agreed to help, to use his children as agents of chaos!”

A new voice joined the fray. Malachi, calling down from his position on the roof. “Director David didn’t see anything except opportunities for control. And now he’s lost even that.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny demanded.

“As we speak, Mossad’s deputy director is presenting evidence to our oversight committee. Evidence of Eli David’s illegal operations, his manipulation of foreign agencies, his use of his own children as disposable assets.”

“No,” Jenny’s voice shook. “No, he promised! He promised to help me get Benoit!”

“He promised many things to many people,” Ziva said, still holding Ari down. “Just as you did, Director Shepard. How many deals did you make? How many agencies did you compromise?”

More movement in the shadows. Tony spotted Fornell’s teams moving into position, along with base security. They were running out of time before this became uncontrollable.

“Jenny,” Gibbs tried again, his voice softer now. “Let us help you. This tumour…”

“Stop talking about it!” Jenny screamed. The sound of a safety clicking off echoed in the darkness. “I’m seeing clearly for the first time! All these agencies, all these rules… They protect the guilty! Benoit killed my father and then walked away! Eli David breaks his children and calls it duty! The whole system needs to burn!”

“And the Russians?” Tony called out. “What did you promise them? Access to Navy drone technology? Classified intelligence?”

“They were means to an end!” Jenny’s voice was moving, she was trying to circle around their position. “They thought they were using me, but I was using them! All of them!”

“Even Ari?” Gibbs asked. “What did you promise him?”

A bitter laugh from Ari. “Freedom from our father. Revenge against a system that turned children into weapons.” He turned his head to look at Ziva. “Tali is really alive?”

“In a private hospital in Switzerland,” Ziva confirmed quietly. “She was paralysed. She thought she lost us too, she believed she was all alone. Father’s been using her survival to manipulate us for years. He manipulated Tali too so she would believe she would never get better or be able to move away from the hospital. Malachi found the evidence when he started digging into the Russian connection.”

“The Russians,” Jenny’s voice had a sing-song quality now. “The Chinese. The Iranians. Everyone wanting a piece of American intelligence. So easy to play them against each other. So easy to…”

She broke off as floodlights suddenly illuminated the area. Base security had managed to get the emergency systems online.

Jenny stood exposed, gun in hand, her appearance shocking Tony. Her usual perfectly coiffed image was gone, replaced by someone wild-eyed and dishevelled. She spun around, gun wavering between targets.

“Director Shepard” a new voice called out. Ducky, approaching slowly with his hands raised. “Jennifer, I suspected something was affecting your judgment, and you said there is a tumour. We do not know how far it has progressed. Please, let us help you.”

“Help me?” Jenny laughed. “Like you helped my father? Like NCIS helped him when he was accused of taking bribes? The system is broken, Ducky! I had to go outside it to get justice!”

“By compromising the very agency your father served?” Ducky asked gently. “By making deals with the kind of people he fought against?”

Something flickered in Jenny’s eyes, doubt, perhaps, or a moment of clarity.

Jenny wavered, gun hand trembling. “I… I had plans. Everything was arranged. Eli promised…”

“Eli David promises many things,” Malachi repeated from above. “But his promises are worth nothing. Ask your friend Sterling about the real deals being made.”

“Sterling?” Jenny’s confusion was evident. “He was supposed to… the evidence against DiNozzo…”

“Was never going to work,” Tony said quietly. “Just like Eli’s plan to replace Kate with Ziva was never going to work. Too many people watching, Jenny. Too many angles you couldn’t see.”

Jenny’s head snapped toward him. “How do you know about that? How do you know any of this?”

“Because some of us pay attention,” Gibbs answered. “Some of us see the patterns. Like Duck seeing the signs of your sickness since you came back to DC.”

“Signs I should have reported officially,” Ducky added, still moving carefully closer. “Instead of hoping I was wrong. That was my mistake, and I apologize for it.”

A sob escaped Jenny. “I can’t… everything’s falling apart. I had it all planned. Eli would help me get Benoit, I’d help him place his people, and everyone else would be too busy watching each other to see…”

“To see you losing yourself to your malady,” Ducky finished gently. “To see you making deals that the real Jenny Shepard would never consider.”

“The real Jenny Shepard died with her father!” she screamed, gun swinging toward Ducky.

Gibbs moved to protect Ducky. Tony spotted a red dot appearing on Jenny’s chest.

Fornell’s voice shouted “Federal agents! Drop your weapon!”

And Ari, surprisingly, called out “Jenny, don’t!”

Jenny froze, looking down at the red dot on her chest, then up at Ari. “You… you were supposed to help me destroy them. You promised!”

“I promised many things,” Ari replied quietly. “To you, to my father, to myself. But watching you now, I see what I‘ve become. What we’ve all become… Puppets dancing to someone else’s tune.”

“Put it down, Jen,” Gibbs said softly. “Let us help you.”

For a moment, it could have gone either way. Then Jenny’s hands dropped, the gun falling from nerveless fingers. She collapsed to her knees, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Ducky rushed forward to help her while Fornell’s team moved in to secure the area. Above them, Malachi was coordinating with base security to deal with the various agency teams still on site.

Tony watched as medics were called, as Jenny was carefully led away, as Ari was formally taken into custody. Everything was different now. Ziva revealing Tali’s survival had changed the entire dynamic with Ari, Jenny’s breakdown had exposed multiple international conspiracies, and the careful chess game Eli David had been playing was thoroughly disrupted.

“Different enough?” Gibbs asked quietly, appearing at Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at his boss sharply. That tone again. Like Gibbs had tried something like that himself.

“Boss?”

“Sometimes trying to change things makes them worse,” Gibbs continued cryptically. “And sometimes…” he gestured to where Ziva was speaking quietly with Malachi while Ari was led away. “Sometimes you find a better way.”

Before Tony could respond, his phone buzzed. First a message from Fornell: “Sterling’s still singing. This is gonna be a nightmare to clean up.”

Then a message from an unknown number: “Thank you for saving my brother. T”

Tony stared at the last message. Tali was really alive. Which meant everything he thought he knew about the future had changed.

“Come on,” Gibbs clapped him on the shoulder. “Got a lot of paperwork ahead. And a lot of agencies wanting answers.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, falling into step beside him. “Think Fornell’s head will explode when he realizes how many jurisdictions are involved?”

Gibbs actually chuckled. “Probably. But that’s his problem. We’ve got other things to focus on.”

“Like?”

“Like making sure these changes stick. Like keeping an eye on Eli David’s next moves. Like…” Gibbs paused, giving Tony a significant look, “making sure we don’t waste second chances.”

Tony felt a chill run down his spine. Yeah, Gibbs always knows.

Chapter 8 – It should be uphill now

The days were filled with an unreasonable amount of report writing, a lot of people rushing through the bullpen and an unhappy Gibbs locked in endless interagency meetings.

There was a lot to untangle and too many fingers in that pie, but, for once, Tony was happy that all the decision-making and discussions were above his paygrade. Gibbs, Balboa and Fornell were in the thick of it, considering they were pretty much in the lead of the whole thing, together with Malachi Ben Gidon.

After the whole show down at Naval Air Station Patuxent River, the other agencies came running. CIA and NSA were up in arms because they didn’t get there in time and the people that could clear things up were now in the hands of NCIS, FBI and Mossad.

It was like watching a bunch of hungry ducks going at a small pile of food. Tony could see blood spilling up from the bites and growls all around. Violent, yes – but also a bit ridiculous.

Mossad had Ari Haswari and the guy had come unglued with the news that Tali, his little half-sister was actually alive when he thought she had died with her mother, in a fake terrorist attack orchestrated by their father, Eli Davi. Ari had been an unwilling tool of the whole thing and carried the guilt deep in his heart, an open wound that Eli had been quick and happy to exploit.

Charles Sterling, the little Chip, was in the hands of the FBI, because the guy had gone deep in checking files and databases he shouldn’t have on his plan to frame-up DiNozzo, and was going down hard for his snooping.

Jenny Shepard was in a hospital, under NCIS guard, and Ducky was supervising her exams and treatment plans, as much as could be done for the woman. From Ducky’s latest report, the tumour was not only inoperable, but so advanced that Jenny’s body was shutting down quickly. She did say a lot about her plans and schemes, but Ducky couldn’t be sure what was real and what was just delusions of her sick mind. Balboa’s team, with Kate in tow, were at her home, going through her paperwork, trying to sort things out.

Tony and McGee were at the MCRT bullpen, working through reports and helping Abby with some evidence. The FBI had their lab working practically 24 hours to expedite things related to the whole Naval base kerfuffle, while Abby worked through the mess Sterling had tried to start in NCIS.

NSA and CIA came in to sort out the surveillance and electronic mess that Shepard had pushed through when she started as NCIS Director. McGee did offer to work on that side of things, but NSA technicians just sniffed and told him to seat his MIT butt at his desk and leave the professionals to it. McNerd was still smarting from the comments three days down the road.

Tony paid attention to the comings and goings and listened to the scuttlebutt going around, even if it didn’t have all the details. He was glad not to be in the thick of it, trying to unravel all the craziness of the situation but his curiosity was starting to itch, and he would need to stop by the basement and see what Gibbs was in the mood to tell him.

The changes didn’t feel like gentle ripples in the water but more like an avalanche brought by a small pebble that he inadvertently threw down the mountain. When he thought he had a chance to change a few things, he focused on what he believed to be the most important ones: save Kate’s life, avoid Ziva getting into MCRT, escape Madam Director’s whole La Grenouille debacle.

He didn’t do much really, a comment here and there, but it seemed the universe just caught his ideas and ran with them like it was a 100m sprint at the Olympics instead of the marathon he might have expected. Things happened so quickly that Tony’s head was still spinning. Two thirds of his notes and plans swirled around these events and in a week or so all was resolved.

DiNozzo felt lost again, as much as he had felt when he had awoken from his heart attack and found his dream-memories swimming inside his mind. Where to go now? Maybe those were not the most important events to focus on? Should he just acknowledge that the changes had helped things move along?

Tony let out a deep sigh. So much to think about and consider… He looked at his monitor. Another deep sigh. So much paperwork to complete…

ITNC

Tony descended the basement stairs at Gibbs’ house carrying two beers, leaving the rest of the six pack on the fridge in the kitchen. He was not in the mood for heavy spirits today. DiNozzo was hoping for some updates related to the whole hurricane Jenny. Any information would help him decide how to proceed really.

Gibbs raised his head to watch the younger man approach the bench, wood pieces around him, but not much working going on. He accepted the frosty bottle DiNozzo swung his way, twisted the cap and took a good gulp of the beer.

“Hell of a day,” DiNozzo commented.

“Done with meetings for the next decade,” Gibbs grumbled. “And interagency cooperation,” he finished with a groan.

Tony laughed out loud. “And I thought you and Fornell made such a good pair!”

Gibbs side-ogled the other man and kept drinking his beer. DiNozzo took a swing or two of his drink and tried to contain his curiosity.

Gibbs seemed content to just be. With a huff, Tony asked: “Ah, come on, Boss! Tell me!”

Gibbs smirked and took another swing of the beer before turning toward his SFA. “Tell you what, DiNozzo?”

“Oh, Boss, don’t be mean! What happened at these interagency cooperation meetings? News of the players? I haven’t seen Ducky since that night…”

Gibbs nodded, drank the last of the beer in the bottle, clanging it on the table after he finished.

“Mossad has Ari, and he seemed to have had a change of heart,” the older agent started. “He’s talking about all Director David’s plans and how he messed them up some.”

“So, not actually a double agent then?”

Gibbs’s hand see-sawed. “Started like that and maybe Ari even believed some of it at the beginning. But then the orders became less clear and the only one that seemed to be profiting from that was David himself. Haswari started to play his own games then.”

DiNozzo nodded in acceptance. Most of dream-Ari actions could be read as spite and revenge against his father, much as Ducky had commented on then.

“The FBI is pumping Sterling.” Tony snorted at that. Gibbs raised an eyebrow and waited for the other man to wave for him to continue. “Looks like someone else contacted him and put him on Jen’s radar.”

It was DiNozzo’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Jenny was trying to find a way to push you in some kind of op against Le Grenouille,” Gibbs kept going. “Sterling was supposed to frame you up for something and she would swing by and save you, making you ‘oh, so grateful’,” Gibbs concluded scornfully.

“But someone found Sterling for her?” Tony questioned.

“Yep,” Gibbs picked up some of the wood pieces on the bench and started checking them for issues. “He didn’t know the name, but said it was a guy with an English accent.”

“Balboa said it was Benoit accounts paying Sterling,” Tony commented.

“Humm…” Gibbs picked up some sandpaper and started smoothing the corners of one of the pieces. “CIA warned everybody away from Benoit. Said he’s an asset and they have an agent glued to his backside.”

“Not really reassuring…”

“Humm,” it was the closest thing to an agreement from Gibbs that DiNozzo expected to get at this stage. “They said they would check the connection…”

“Doesn’t mean they’re gonna tell the rest of us anything they find anyway,” Tony completed with Gibbs giving a short, curt nod.

“I haven’t seen Ducky these last few days…” Tony commented leadingly.

“He’s overseeing Jenny’s exams.”

“Anything more?” Tony tried again.

“She doesn’t have a lot of time,” Gibbs’s tone dropped an octave. “Duck thinks she’ll be gone any time now.”

“Oh…” Tony didn’t know what to think. In his dream memories Jenny committed suicide by bad guy instead of waiting for the inevitable end. There was a whole cover up with torching down her home. Considering how things went down this time around, not even Hollywood could imagine a cover up that would work for anyone not a complete conspiracy nut.

The silence stretched for a while. DiNozzo finished his beer. Gibbs stopped sanding and stood up to pick up another tool to start assembling what looked like a small jewellery box.

“What now?”

Gibbs glanced towards the young man, a twist on his face that could be translated into a question.

“With NCIS? With the whole mess?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Mossad and FBI are talking about better interagency cooperation and joint operations,” he said dismissively. Certainly nothing the older agent would like any part of.

“Who will be the new director?”

Another shrug. “Vance and Granger were the names being bandied about. SecNav didn’t confirm anything.”

“Humm…” Mixed feelings again. Dream Vance was a dick who had had it for DiNozzo from the start and the young man didn’t even know why. But Granger was a complete unknown. Tony never worked with the guy and only had the most basic office gossip on him.

“Any preference, Boss?”

Gibbs shot him a dirty look. “Worked with Vance way back, a few years after I started in NIS,” he said, almost unwillingly. “Talked to Granger a few times, over some ops, don’t know enough.”

DiNozzo chose to stay quiet, watching the team leader as he glued the box together.

Finally, the older man blurted out: “Vance thought Eli David would be a good ally. Said he helped him in the beginning of his career.”

“Not auspicious.”

“Might have changed his mind after this FUBAR.”

“Might be part of the FUBAR.”

It was not enough for a whiplash, but Gibbs’ head turned toward the young man intensely.

“You think more people inside NCIS are involved? Didn’t look like it at first pass.”

“McGee was naïve and just wanted to get in the new director’s good graces,” Tony commented. “But the review of Sterling’s creds went way too quickly and certainly was not done correctly, considering all the holes Carson found in one pass. Someone else turned a blind eye or was on her payroll.”

Gibbs nodded, turning back to his woodwork.

“Bailey is doing the investigation?” DiNozzo asked.

Another Gibbs’ nod.

“Maybe it’s not someone inside but someone with access.”

“Another agency?”

“The monitoring she brought in was not something cobbled together in a few days, Boss. It would have been created, tried, re-done, adapted. It was too extensive, too intrusive, too detailed.”

“Humm… Maybe you should be in the next interagency cooperation meeting,” the older man smirked.

“Maybe I’ll just whisper in Bailey’s ear,” Tony sounded disgusted.

Gibbs barked a laugh. “Can’t run fast enough, DiNozzo. Fornell and Balboa were talking about how you started noticing things as soon as you set foot back in the office.”

Tony waved, like it was not of great importance. “Long time away and things jump at you. If I were in the office when Madam Director started, I might not have noticed anything.”

“And we’re back with the frog idea…” Gibbs smirked again.

DiNozzo fought the childish urge to stick his tongue out.

ITNC

A month after the Shepard incident, things at NCIS had settled into a familiar routine. Leon Vance had been appointed as the new director and seemed focused on running the agency efficiently rather than playing political games.

The MCRT was back to handling their normal cases: murders, thefts, and the occasional terrorism threat. Tony kept his head down, focusing on being the best SFA he could be. So far, none of the cases they caught appeared prominently in his dream memories. Sometimes a note here and there, or a memory would flash in his mind and help him look at the right place to help the case along, but no great vision that would make people look at him like he was crazy.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs’ bark pulled Tony from his paperwork. “Got a possible informant on the Collings case. Kate, with me. Tony, you and McGee follow up on the wife’s alibi.”

As Kate gathered her gear to follow Gibbs, Tony felt an inexplicable unease. The Collings case seemed straightforward enough: a Petty Officer found dead on his recreational boat, but something about it nagged at him. DiNozzo felt like he was missing something but, at the same time, still didn’t ring a bell related to his dream memories.

“On it, Boss,” Tony responded automatically, already reaching for his phone to coordinate with McGee.

The marina was quiet when Tony and McGee arrived. Mrs. Collings’ alibi for the night of her husband’s death had seemed solid. A dinner with friends at a restaurant across town, but something about the timing still felt off.

“McGee, check the security cameras again. Focus on the time between 2100 and 2300. The restaurant only has cameras at the front door, so we can confirm she arrived at 2045 and left at 2330. Since they don’t have cover for the alley behind it, she still might have skipped and come back through it. The employees seemed very ‘forgetful’,” Tony said, using finger quotes. “Seems to be a hot spot for people that don’t want to be remembered,” he completed with a wry smile.

“I thought people having affairs would go to shady clubs or motels,” Tim responded. “Gonna check the gate camera,” McGee headed toward the harbour master’s office while Tony walked the dock where Petty Officer Collings’ body had been found.

His phone buzzed. Jacob checking if he was still on for dinner with the guys that weekend. Tony quickly confirmed, grateful for the normalcy of friendship without complications.

Another buzz and it was a text from McGee this time. “Got something!”

Tony walked back quickly, finding McGee looking at an old tv screen with surprisingly good video quality recording paused.

The security footage showed Mrs. Collings’ car entering the marina parking lot at 2147, directly contradicting her dinner alibi. But more interesting was what else the camera caught: a small ship in the background that shouldn’t have been there.

“Boss,” Tony called Gibbs. “Mrs. Collings lied about her alibi, but we might have a bigger problem.”

“What now, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked impatiently.

“There’s a ship in the footage that McGee got.”

“So?”

“A ship not in the official manifests of the marina.”

“Check it out,” Gibbs ordered. “We’re heading to meet the informant now. Guy claims he has information about more than just Collings’ death.”

Tony’s gut churned. “Boss, maybe we should…”

“Handle the ship, DiNozzo. Kate and I can manage one informant.”

After hanging up, Tony stared at the ship on the screen. The feeling of wrongness kept poking at him, and he only got more unnerved because he couldn’t identify what was wrong .

“McGee, run that ship’s ID numbers. And see if you can find where it went after that night. Let’s find out what we’re really dealing with.”

McGee started going through the logs at the marina and running the recorded images trying to follow the ship steps. Tony went to find any paperwork that might help with the searches. He knew they would have to go back to the office soon. There wasn’t much that McGee would be able to do without his computer and the less-than-ideal internet at the marina.

His phone buzzed once more. Abby this time. Tony answered hoping for some clue from the evidence collected at the crime scene. Ducky was finalising his report, but the Petty Officer was clearly killed by a bullet to the head. They were counting on Abby to identify anything extra in his clothes or surroundings that would clue them to where the guy went before getting his head blown up. They already knew his recreational boat was not the primary crime scene. Collings was killed somewhere else and then transported there.

“Tony! Tony! Tony”, Abby screamed excitedly at the phone.

“Yeah, Abby, it’s me,” Tony said in a dead-pan tone. The itching on the back of his head was driving him insane.

“Tony! The residue we found isn’t just gunpowder. There are traces of industrial grade explosives!”

Tony’s blood ran cold. “McGee! What’s that ship carrying?”

“Uh… manifest says small equipment, but the weight distribution is all wrong for…”

“Call Gibbs! Now!” Tony commanded. “Abby, you need to check the ship’s ID and dig out what you can! McGee got what he could here. We should be leaving to meet Gibbs and Kate. McGee will send you what he got so far!” Tony gestured anxiously towards the younger man and started moving out.

McGee rushed to follow the SFA. He shot an email to Abby with what she was collecting, minus the recording, and tried to call Gibbs’ phone. Tony disconnected from Abby’s call and tried to call Kate.

McGee’s call went straight to voicemail. Kate’s phone rang and rang, with no answer. DiNozzo and McGee rushed to their car. The meeting with said informant should have happened on the other side of the marina, where the bigger ships and boats were kept. DiNozzo took a leaf from Gibbs’ book and drove like a maniac to where the other two agents should be.

“Nothing from Gibbs, Tony!” McGee informed him, hanging on the side bar.

“Try dispatch, get them to radio the harbour patrol and Balboa for backup.”

“Dispatch says harbour patrol’s already been called about a disturbance on the Liberty Star, that’s where Gibbs and Kate are meeting the informant!” McGee reported, sliding into the passenger seat. Tony grunted his approval.

He gunned the engine, navigating through the marina’s narrow access roads. “Did you get anything else on that mystery ship?”

“I passed everything to Abby,” McGee has his eyes glued on his phone. “She’s…” Whatever he would say was interrupted by a buzzer that almost made the young agent drop the phone. He checked it quickly after that. “She got a hit. It’s flagged in Interpol’s system. Suspected arms smuggling through Eastern Europe.”

“And now it’s in a U.S. harbour at the same time our dead Petty Officer, who just happened to work port security, turns up dead,” Tony grimaced. “Some coincidence. Not.”

They rounded a corner and saw the ship ahead. Gibbs’ car was parked near the gangway, but there was no sign of their teammates.

Tony tried Gibbs’ phone again. Still nothing.

“Tony!” McGee pointed toward the ship. Two figures were visible on deck: Gibbs and Kate, talking with someone they couldn’t quite see.

Tony was already out of the car, drawing his weapon. “McGee, call for…”

The explosion cut off his words.

The force knocked them both back against the car as the ship’s midsection erupted in flames. Metal bulged, debris flew, and Tony’s ears rang with the concussion.

“Gibbs! Kate!” He was running before his vision cleared, McGee right behind him.

Through the smoke, they could see movement on deck. A figure staggering… Gibbs, looking dazed but moving. But where was Kate?

“Boss!” Tony reached the gangway, fighting against the heat of the flames.

“Kate’s down!” Gibbs shouted, coughing. “Upper deck! The informant… He triggered a bomb…”

Another explosion rocked the ship, smaller this time but closer to where they had seen Kate last. Tony could hear sirens approaching. Harbour patrol and fire rescue responding.

“McGee, coordinate with rescue! Boss, we need to…”

But Gibbs was already moving through the smoke toward Kate’s last position, Tony following close behind, puffing. This should be good for his lungs. Brad would ground him for sure after this stunt!

They found the young woman near the ship’s bridge, unconscious. They could see bleeding from a head wound and her right arm was twisted.

“Got a pulse,” Gibbs reported tersely, checking her neck. “But she’s not responding.”

The next hours passed in a blur of emergency response, hospital waiting rooms, and preliminary case reports. The mystery ship was half sunken and harbour patrol was working with another NCIS team to try and salvage what they could. Divers should start working the next day. So far, the consensus was a bomb was responsible for the explosion and fire, but with Interpol’s flags, they were all expecting to find illegal contraband there. Nobody was expecting to see any farm implements at the bottom of the harbour.

Kate was in surgery, condition critical but stable. Tony sat in the waiting room, after stopping by the NCIS office to push McGee to start their reports. DiNozzo was herding a furious Gibbs and fighting the urge to bite his nails while waiting for the doctor’s report on Kate.

It was a battle and a half to get the team leader checked. He had some bruises, and a headache but no concussion. This time around, Kate took the brunt of the explosion. DiNozzo didn’t have to deal with an amnesiac, just out of a coma Gibb -, but a guilty Gibbs, growling how he missed the fake witness was a different but just as hard beast.

Tony watched him pace some in the hospital waiting room and then prop himself against a wall, jumping between quick calls and painstakingly typing texts in his phone. DiNozzo had a good idea what was going on, as Gibbs contacted Fornell and whoever else he knew in Interpol, complaining about the lack of heads up and demanding information. The older agent’s face was set in stone, lips pursed, steel eyes glued to his phone, body tensed, but still aware of his surroundings.

“Gibbs…” Tony tried.

“Did you get anything from McGee and Abby, DiNozzo?” The team leader asked abruptly.

“Not yet, Boss. But you can…”

“We need some leads here! What are you doing just sitting there?! Shouldn’t you be in the bullpen trying to find something?!” He screamed.

“We didn’t have anything before. Until McNerd and Abby can find something for us to follow, there’s nothing for me at the office,” Tony answered calmly. He took a deep breath and thought of all the times he’d had to manage Gibbs’ anger in his dream-memories.

He’d promised himself, after he accepted those dream-memories, that he would not go down that path again. This time he would keep contact with his frat brothers as a way to keep himself centred. To remind himself of his value and not let Senior, Gibbs or NCIS in general push him to that hollow stage he remembered.

“Gibbs, there was no indication that what we knew so far was wrong, or misleading. The wife is still the prime suspect since she lied, and she and her car were caught on camera…”

“Probably a distraction…” Gibbs pushed himself from the wall and started pacing again.

“Or a coincidence. Or she’s part of whatever plan this is. Or the ship was unlucky to get caught on camera when her car passed and then be in the middle of the investigation of the Petty Officer death…”

Gibbs gave DiNozzo the gimlet eye. “Any gut feeling on this one, DiNozzo?”

Tony let the angry, dismissive tone pass over him. He wouldn’t be playing this game again.

“Don’t go on into Ahab mode again, Gibbs,” he said quietly and didn’t waver when the team leader’s angry visage stayed focused on him.

Any possible retort from Gibbs was timely interrupted by a doctor coming into the waiting room.

“Are you here for Ms Todd?”

Tony stood up immediately with Gibbs turning towards the doctor with his laser glare. DiNozzo moved forward, cutting the older man’s path, talking before the senior agent could say something to put the doctor’s back up.

“Yes, doctor. I’m her Senior Field Agent and this is our team leader,” Tony gestured towards the man behind him. “How’s Kate? There was a lot of blood from her head wound and her arm…” He trailed off.

The doctor gave a strained smile. “She has a compound fracture of her right arm, a twisted ankle, and some bruised ribs. Painful but nothing that rest won’t take care of.”

Tony let out a sigh. “Good… Good…”

“The head wound though…” The tone brought both men to attention. “She’s in a coma at the moment.” The doctor waved and continued quickly seeing the anxious expressions before him. “We don’t think it’s too serious. It was a light blow she took. We are monitoring, and there’s no build-up of liquid or blood in her skull. We’ll give her 24 to 48 hours to wake by herself. If she doesn’t…. We’ll reassess.”

The man nodded and left the room sedately.

The agents exchanged glances and moved at the same time to leave. Tony picked his phone, starting to dial straight away.

“I’ll let Abby know and I’ll stop at HR when we’re back at NCIS. The hospital should have already called her next of kin.”

Gibbs barely nodded, lengthening his steps to push past the younger agent. “Let’s find out who was responsible for this and nail them down.” He insisted on his SFA being competent, but this new DiNozzo was starting to annoy for some reason.

Chapter 9 – Smoke gets in my eyes

“DiNozzo, McGee!” Gibbs cried as soon as he stepped into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in each hand. “Sitrep!”

“Ship sails under the Estonian flag. The name is Shooting Star, but we couldn’t get any good images of it,” McGee jumped to answer.

“Collins’s wife?” Gibbs prompted.

“I asked Carson to pick her up for interrogation,” Tony answered, still typing on his computer.

“Her bank records show regular deposits from the same shell company. Port security credentials like Collings’ would be valuable to smugglers,” McGee theorised.

“Think she was selling his access?” DiNozzo turned to the probie.

“Seems like it.”

“Petty Officer not in the scheme?” Gibbs probed.

“Why kill him if he was?” McGee queried.

“Maybe they asked him to do more than smuggle in some cigarettes,” Tony suggested.

“So she helped them get access, then got cold feet?” McGee threw it in.

“Maybe Collings did,” Tony suggested. “It’d explain why he ended up dead,” Tony replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud ping from McGee’s computer. The probie turned to his monitor with the other two agents focusing on the young man. Gibbs’ patience would never last long enough for the analysis that McGee would like to go through before talking.

“What, McGee?” The team leader barked.

“Ah…” He looked again at his monitor. “Right. The informant’s ID was fake…”

“We know that!” Gibbs interrupted.

“Oh, yeah…” McGee started to flounder.

“Deep breaths, McNervous,” Tony joked at the same time shooting a dry glance towards the older man. “Check your information and give us the relevant details,” he tried to calm the other man and put him on the correct track to keep the peace in the bullpen.

“Yeah, deep breaths….” McGee visibly took big gulps of air and kept his eyes on the screen. “Facial recognition got a hit. He was in the background of photos and in reports about an Estonian national, Kurvitz, no known first name, suspected arms dealer with Russian mafia and terrorists’ cell connections.”

“Collings stumbled on their smuggling operation,” Tony theorized, “maybe tried to report it through proper channels. His wife was already compromised, tipped off Kurvitz’ people. They killed Collings, then set up the informant meeting to eliminate anyone investigating.”

“And nearly succeeded,” Gibbs growled.

Tony turned to the older man. “Why were you and Kate apart, boss?”

Gibbs huffed, shrugged, and walked to his desk, a dark expression on his face. “The informant started running towards the bridge and Todd just followed him. I told her to stop, but…” He pulled the top drawer of his desk open with stark and angry movements.

“Kate doesn’t listen when she gets an idea stuck in her head…” Tony murmured.

An email popped up for Tony. “Abby says the explosives match other cases related to Kurvitz’ clients,” DiNozzo passed the information after a quick scan of the email. “She got confirmation from Interpol.”

Another ping made the two senior agents turn back towards the probie.

“Boss,” McGee looked up from his monitor. “Got another ship registered to the same shell company entering U.S. waters. Due to dock in Norfolk in 36 hours.”

Gibbs stood. “They’re not getting away this time. DiNozzo, coordinate with the port authority. McGee, get everything we have on Kurvitz to Balboa’s team so they can assist. I want options to deal with it before that ship docks.”

“On it,” both agents agreed together, while the team leader collected his belongings and walked quickly towards the lift. Tim looked questioningly at Tony, who spread his hands. “He’s mad about Kate, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Going for coffee,” Gibbs threw back towards his agents before disappearing into the elevator. He hadn’t forgotten the Ahab reference, and he hadn’t missed that look that DiNozzo had just shot him. Although he knew he’d been being hard on the probie, and it was just the SFA’s way of protecting the younger agent, this new, calm post-plague attitude was irking, even though he’d been warned.

ITNC

The next day Gibbs and Balboa’s teams went to the meeting room under the mezzanine, to begin to plan how to get the ship and its crew without blowing themselves up, since they expected it would be carrying explosives and armaments.

Their brainstorming was interrupted by a perfunctory knock at the door, which was then immediately opened by the new NCIS director, Leon Vance.

The agents quietened down, looking at the man and the woman following him into the room.

“Gentlemen and lady,” the Director acknowledged the group with a nod. “This is Officer Ziva David, of Mossad,” he continued. “Mossad had dealings with Kurvitz and his clients before. They offered us their help with this situation. Interpol should also be sending more intel and probably an agent. There’s a lot of interest in his operations.”

The silence was almost oppressive after that introduction. Everybody in the room knew she was ex-Director Eli David’s daughter, and they knew she helped bring him down, but, in the end, she was still an unknown entity. Could, should, they trust her?

DiNozzo leaned back in his chair, a pen bopping over the legal pad in front of him. All the changes from his dream-memories, after the take down of Jenny and Eli, made him feel more out of step than when he had woken up. He gave Ziva a closer look. This was a different woman from his dream memories. She seemed… calmer, more settled in her own skin, nothing of that wild air or the burning gaze she wore for as long he’d known her before. There were no side glances or sardonic smirks. No ‘come hither’ or contemptuous looks towards Tony.

This was certainly a different Ziva and Tony was lost on how to proceed.

“Officer David,” Balboa nodded. The other agents on his team and McGee also acknowledged her. Only Gibbs and DiNozzo stayed silent.

Vance squinted his eyes against the two agents, his displeasure clear over the apparent slight. “I hope to see we’re all working together against this threat,” he declared in a hard tone, glaring towards Gibbs and DiNozzo. “A good, old fashioned stint of inter-agency cooperation,” he finished.

Tony raised an eyebrow, watching the two people standing at the door. Gibbs humpfed and motioned carelessly to the chairs on the other side of the table, closer to the door.

“Have a seat, Officer David,” Gibbs growled out, the emphasis to her title and name clear to all.

Ziva moved to sit and answered before Vance could put words to his clearly raised hackles.

“Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs,” her voice calm, collected, her accent a soft lull.

DiNozzo could almost believe in her sweetness, if he hadn’t had his dream-memories to fall back to. He felt the need to tread carefully. She might have changed. Or she might not. They would need to work together, again, but there would be a whole sea of salt in their relationship.

“We are discussing possible approaches,” Tony said, trying to be welcoming. “There are too many variables here.”

Ziva nodded. “I believe I can beam some clarity into the situation,” she started, but surprised scoffs and puzzled murmurs stopped her mid-sentence.

“The expression is ‘shed a light’, Officer David,” Tony said with a smile. Her botching up of American expressions actually made him feel better. This was not a pod-Ziva after all.

The young woman blushed. “Oh,” she took a deep breath, crossing her hands on top of the table. “These… expressions can be a bit confusing.”

“They can be, if you don’t use them all the time,” Carson, Balboa’s SFA, agreed.

“Agents!” Vance exclaimed from the door.

“I think we can go on from here, Director Vance,” Gibbs stated with a barely hidden smirk. “Don’t you have Interpol to liaise with?”

“Gibbs,” the tone was hard, but the Director was interrupted by his assistant appearing behind him.

“SecNav on the phone for you, sir,” she stated calmly.

Vance threw another put-upon glare toward the room but turned and left rapidly. Cynthia, the director executive assistant, smiled knowingly at the agents and followed the director at a more sedate pace.

“So, you know something about Kurvitz’ dealings? Something that can help us access this new ship?” Carson probed.

“We are… straightening our house at Mossad, after the… covert activities of ex-Director David were discovered,” Ziva said carefully.

“Cleaning house or straightening things up,” Tony corrected her. He cocked his head, observing her carefully. “And Mossad is… clean enough to be sending agents out to liaise with other law enforcement agencies?” He tried to keep any accusation from his tone but wasn’t completely successful.

Ziva looked straight to DiNozzo, locking eyes with him. They stayed in a stalemate for a moment, until Balboa cleared his throat.

“I understand that you might hesitate to trust Mossad’s and my intentions,” she started, moving from DiNozzo to look at the other agents around the table. “There were some agents and administrative personnel involved in my… in ex-Director David plans, but they do not represent the spirit of Mossad, or Israel,” Ziva stated.

“A lot of people have crappy fathers,” DiNozzo said, still trying his best to get a read on the woman. “I certainly do. You don’t need to tiptoe around his name.”

“Tiptoe?” Ziva turned back to Tony, a confused expression in her face. “I am not walking around anything with ballet shoes, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Tiptoe, tread carefully, is another expression, David,” Gibbs cut in impatiently. “If you are gonna work with us, better brush up on idioms, they fly fast and hard around here.”

Tony smiled winningly but also a little meanly at the foreign agent.

“I will do my best to get ingrained into your work environment, Agent Gibbs,” Ziva responded primly, hands still crossed on the tabletop.

“I would think you would prefer to be integrated, Officer David,” DiNozzo corrected again, thinking he certainly didn’t want Ziva putting roots and her grabbing hands into NCIS.

The others around the desk nodded in agreement and Gibbs growled.

“So, what have you got?” The team lead asked again, laser eyes focused on the Israeli.

“Our intelligence suggests his traditional routes through Eastern Europe have been compromised,” Ziva explained. “He is seeking new pathways.”

“Staged theft,” Gibbs concluded. “Military hardware being diverted for sale to terrorist cells.”

“That fits Kurvitz’ pattern,” Ziva nodded. “He often works with corrupt military officials to acquire inventory.”

ITNC

It was good that Balboa forced Gibbs to take a break because Tony needed to think. He needed to take in consideration the changes and how to approach this different Ziva. Everything moved so fast that DiNozzo was feeling… unmoored. It felt like all his anchors had been ripped out and he was drifting with the winds.

The changes came through too fast and with minimum input from him. This new Ziva, calm and cooperative, was putting him out of his stride. Tony needed to find a path going forward and he didn’t know if he should hold on to his dream-memories or plough forward like he never travelled that road before.

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his introspective mood. “DiNozzo,” he answered tiredly.

“Agent DiNozzo, this is Rachel Cranston,” a soft voice spoke.

Another blast from his dream-memories past to keep shaking Tony’s foundations. “Ah, hello Mrs… is Doctor Cranston, right?”

“Yes, doctor,” there was a smile on the answer.

“How’s things?” Tony knew the question was lame, but he couldn’t gather enough energy to fake his way through this situation.

“Kate is awake,” Rachel Cranston responded.

DiNozzo let out a relieved sigh. “Good… That’s good news, right?” He asked, unsure.

“Yes, good news…”

“But? I sense a but here.”

“It’s early days but the latest tests show Kate has some memory issues…”

“Memory issues?”

“She seems to have forgotten almost all of the last 2 years,” the answer was soft, a bit pained. “The doctors think it is reversible, and she should recover most of it while she recuperates. She’ll need physio for her broken arm.”

“And how’s Kate dealing with that?” Tony knew it couldn’t be good. Control was something that Kate was always grasping for, much like Gibbs. To discover she’d lost some of her memory would make her feel the loss of control keenly.

“Not very well at the moment,” Rachel confirmed. “But we’re organizing to take her home, to our parents’ house. NCIS HR has been very helpful.”

“Yes, they do understand the risks for agents and try to be there when needed,” Tony commented. “I should know.”

“Yes, Kate did comment you’d suffered a biological attack, while you were hospitalised because of it, Agent DiNozzo.”

“Tony, please.”

“Rachel, then.”

“Thanks. Ah, would you keep me informed? Do you need help with anything?” He offered.

“Thank you for your offer, but nothing at the moment. And yes, I’ll call to keep you updated. I’m sorry but…” she hesitated.

“But Kate doesn’t want to see me,” Tony finished helpfully.

“Yes… I think the point where her memories are…”

“Not a good moment in her life, I would think. What does she remember?”

“Humm, she remembers Agent Gibbs’ invitation to go to work at NCIS but not actually starting there.”

“Yeah, she wouldn’t have any warm and fuzzy memories of me at that point…”

“The doctors are hopeful that it will be a temporary issue…”

“Okay, I wish her the best, Rachel. You know you can call anytime if you need help.”

“Would you want to visit?” The offer sounded sincere but a bit uncertain.

“I don’t think this is the right moment,” Tony answered, his own uncertainty clearly in his voice. “When she’s better, if she wants…” he completed.

“Okay… I’ll keep you posted. Thanks.”

“Nothing to thank me for. And yes, please, give us news.”

The call ended with a mumbled goodbye from both sides, and Tony kept staring at his phone, considering the changes and ramifications of the situation. So, Kate was alive but apparently out of NCIS, at least for a while. DiNozzo didn’t doubt that Vance would hold off on dismissing or retiring Kate, like Shepard had done with Gibbs in his dream-memories. Kate would be safe but then, the opening in the MCRT was still there and Vance already showed he would be happy to shove Ziva into NCIS.

Tony sighed and hovered a finger over the phone keypad, thinking about updating Gibbs. After a moment, he closed the flip phone and stood up, collecting his wallet and keys. ‘Better do it in person and maybe talk about what might happen going forward,’ he thought, walking out of his apartment.

Tony parked beside Gibbs’ Charger and entered the house carrying a six-pack of beer. It was a school night, but the latest developments deserved some padding before being discussed.

He put the beers in the fridge and picked up two bottles to take to the basement. The door was open, and he started descending the stairs with a quick call of “Boss, I have news…” before the sight downstairs stopped him mid-step and mid-sentence.

Gibbs was sitting at his workbench, a few pieces of wood in front of him and he seemed to be organizing them to start assembling it.

Behind him, her fingers tracing the tools on the walls, was Ziva David. She looked up to DiNozzo and her eyes shot back to Gibbs. She straightened her posture, hands coming to her sides, her face smooth, projecting an image of calm and normality.

“Didn’t expect you to have guests, Boss,” Tony said, finishing descending the stairs, putting the beer bottles on the workbench and then retreating back to the last three steps of the staircase where he normally sat. Right now, he chose to just lean on the handrail, eyes jumping between the other two in the room.

“Ziva invited me to dinner, and we came back here afterwards,” Gibbs said neutrally, still moving the wood pieces around, but keeping watch on the interaction.

“Invited you to dinner?” DiNozzo’s eyebrows jumped up, his tone clearly surprised.

“We stopped at a coffee shop…?” Ziva contributed a bit uncertainly.

“The Train Diner,” Gibbs corrected.

“I do not understand your Americanisms,” Ziva complained. “Why use the same word with so many different meanings? Or use words that do not have the meaning you are trying to convey?

“Expressions and expedition,” Gibbs scoffed, smiling.

‘Gibbs smiling?!’ Tony’s brain did a screech halt, and the younger man felt like he stopped breathing for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better to discuss the operation with all involved?” He asked deceptively calmly.

Gibbs turned to look at his agent, piercing blue eyes trying to identify the issue. “The conversation was not about the operation,” he finally conceded.

“Aahh…” Tony straightened up and started to climb the first steps. “I will leave you two to it then. Sorry for interrupting…”

“DiNozzo!” The warning was clear in the senior agent’s tone. Gibbs recognized the discomfort in the younger man’s attitude but didn’t need his lip.

“See you tomorrow, Boss!” Tony answered, climbing the stairs quickly, leaving the house almost in a hurry.

Gibbs humpfed, but let the younger man go.

“Should I not be here?” Ziva asked quietly.

“You were invited,” Gibbs answered, going back to his woodwork, waiting for her to feel comfortable again to start talking. DiNozzo, with all his talk of wanting to change things and his stance like he knew more than anyone else, was starting to bother Gibbs. After all, Gibbs was always the one who knew all, even if DiNozzo was good at putting the clues together.

‘Putting clues together…’ He was glad he wasn’t looking at Ziva when the thought struck him. Hernandez… DiNozzo must have figured that out… Now he remembered clearly his thought from weeks ago. The new DiNozzo might not tolerate out and out murder like the old one did. Gibbs tried to shake out the thought. ‘You’ve absolutely no reason to think that.’ But it was hard to let go of the idea, of the risk of a hard-ass DiNozzo that didn’t bow to Gibbs’ whims.

Well, with all his talk of change, he didn’t have any right to complain about a new face. Ziva David seemed to need him, and Gibbs liked that.

ITNC

As usual, Tony was at his desk at MCRT bullpen around 7am the next day. He didn’t feel rested though. He had spent half the night tossing and turning, the thoughts running wild in his head.

‘Had the changes not helped at all?! Kate was alive, but she was the one with the missing memories now. And Ziva was still in a prime spot to get into the team. Vance seems as invested in it as Shepard ever was.’

DiNozzo was going through his emails and small routine tasks mechanically while his mind churned with his dream-memories, the changes and how much some things seemed to stay the same.

‘Ziva still connected with Gibbs, and he accepted her quickly enough, even without the whole “killing Ari thing”. And with Vance pushing her as liaison again, doesn’t seem to be a way to keep her out of NCIS.’

Tony waved to Carson and the rest of the team when they walked in and looked again to Gibbs’s desk, where his jacket was but not the man. He would be prowling the building or out to get more coffee. Tony felt he needed to decide on how to act going forward before the older man was back into the bullpen.

McGee came in, coffee and bag of pastries in hand, quietly squirreling it into his desk. The younger man was still smarting from the whole Shepard FUBAR. His jacket had a reprimand now, because ‘following orders’ was not an acceptable explanation for something clearly not kosher. McGee could have talked to his team lead about the then director’s unusual request about surveillance and secrecy, but he certainly needed to appraise Internal Affairs of the issue. He was barely out of probationary period, so it was more a slap on the wrist than an actual punishment. McGee, though, reverted to his original persona, stuttering and jumping at anything. DiNozzo was also unsure how to deal with the issue. He didn’t want to go back to the hazing and joking he did at the beginning of the young man’s probationary period or continue with the attitude from his dream-memories. Right now, Tony chose to try and keep things as normal as possible, like nothing much had happened.

“Morning, Probie,” Tony started and sighed quietly when the other agent jumped at the sound of his voice. “We should have another powwow about the whole Kurvitz thing in a few minutes. Bring what you have on the ships and whatever you found out about connections.”

“Ah… Humm… Should… Am I to go… go… to the meeting?” McGee stuttered.

“Of course, Probie!” DiNozzo stated with force. “MCRT has the lead in the case! Or d’you think that Gibbs would let that go after the explosion?”

“No… Not… Of course not…” McGee exhaled loudly. “Just… I thought… Thought nobody would want me there…” He concluded despondently.

“Probie… McGee… Tim…” DiNozzo tried to find the correct tone. “Tim, you might have made a mistake, but she was your director, you are brand spanking new, people understand. They might be a bit… pushy for a while, but it should help you to reinforce your spine, not break it. She was quite… manipulative, from all we found out. Take it as a lesson, and keep sharpening your skills, so you don’t fall for anything like it again.” DiNozzo had turned in his chair to look at the younger man, trying to infuse his voice and speech with certainty and encouragement. His dream-memories about the whole Benoit undercover operation popped in his mind right away. He should have followed that advice then but, like McGee, he was easily snowed under the work pressures and Shepard’s sweet talk.

“Yeah…” McGee nodded, playing listlessly with his mouse. “But I feel like such a… so stupid! I knew it wasn’t right, but I didn’t say anything!”

“Sometimes we feel like there’s nothing we can do,” Tony philosophised. His thoughts turning back inward and to his dilemma with the dream-memories and the now. “You need to learn to trust your gut, Tim. If something doesn’t sit right with you, then you look around, find someone that can help you sort through your thoughts and feelings. It’s okay to bend on occasion, but never allow anyone, or anything, to break who you are.”

“Ah… Thanks, Tony,” McGee said quietly, a thoughtful mien taking over.

DiNozzo turned back to his desk, thinking how much those words could actually apply to himself and how much he needed to heed his own advice.

ITNC

The day was shaping up to be full of talk and little action, and Tony was tired of rolling things over in his head without being able to reach a decision on how to act or what everything might lead to.

He kept an eye on the behaviour of both Ziva and Gibbs and got even more twisted inside seeing the easy rapport they already developed.

The few words he caught – “My father…” and “Not your fault…” – gave him the key elements of the gist of the conversation and DiNozzo could extrapolate that the whole ‘poor little girl in need of a father figure’ persona was back in play with Gibbs. He couldn’t decide if it was an act this time, like in the dream-memories, or real, considering the very public way all the treacherous behaviour from Dad David was aired around international law enforcement agencies and agents.

The next meeting with MCRT and Balboa’s team brought in not only Ziva, but Director Vance himself and another man that DiNozzo bet was Interpol. He was wearing a nice ‘James Bond’ style Brioni suit that Tony could admire without shame.

“Agents,” Vance strutted into the bullpen area. Balboa and Gibbs preferred the open space to discuss their case, with access to computers, displays and whiteboards, instead of the confined and stifled situation of a meeting room.

The group turned to watch the director flanked by Officer David and the unnamed man.

“This is Agent Callum Blackwood, from the Interpol Weapons Trafficking Division. Like Officer David, he’s here to provide his expertise on Kurvitz.”

‘Hello’ and ‘Nice to meet you’ went around the area.

“Good morning,” Agent Blackwood returned the compliments with a deep voice and a clear posh British accent. “I saw the preliminary reports and they are very thorough. I hope to be able to contribute some more on Kurvitz’s modus operandi and possible contacts on American soil. It would be my absolute pleasure to help bring him and his operation down.”

DiNozzo smiled wolfishly and offered his hand. “Welcome aboard, Agent Blackwood. I totally sympathize with the spirit in which you’re embracing this op.”

The other man smiled back, shaking Tony’s hand firmly.

“So, what do you have?” Gibbs cut in, not very enthusiastic about the other agent’s presence. The limit of his inter-agency cooperation was reached minutes after the whole Shepard debacle.

The man retrieved his hand from DiNozzo’s and turned to the older agent, pushing his hands into his trousers pockets.

“Three months ago, a shipment of Russian Army weapons earmarked for destruction was diverted during transportation and disappeared. The Russians were understandably embarrassed and preferred to register the weapons as effectively destroyed. Then one of them was found during a raid on a pirate camp in Somalia. Matching serial numbers and all. Nobody took the time to scratch them out. Nobody seems worried that the connection was found.”

“Kurvitz has connections to the Russian Army?” Gibbs asked.

“With the Russian mob, actually.”

DiNozzo heard the inhale from Ziva and turned to find her countenance pale. That was news to her. Then a dream-memory popped up in Tony’s mind.

‘Michael has cousins that won’t take his death as well as I,’ the Ziva in his dream-memory smirked. ‘Russian cousins that might, at one time, relate to your family business, DiNozzo,’ she snarled, stressing out his surname, making clear what stereotype she was alluding to.

“So, Russian mob to Kurvitz to pirates and terrorist camps,” DiNozzo commented, talking to the Interpol agent but side-eyeing Ziva. “They still need a connection to enter the U.S. The Estonian flag isn’t exactly an easy path.”

“That connection was the big hurdle we had going against his organization,” Blackwood confirmed. “The… event here in D.C. that exposed your previous director and her… inroads into the intelligence world brought new investigative venues.”

Gibbs seemed to notice how uncomfortable Ziva was with this conversation. He remembered their talk in his basement, how much she wanted to detach herself from her father’s deals. Almost as much as Gibbs would prefer not to think about how low Jenny had fallen.

“You saying Shepard was the connection?” Gibbs asked in a clipped, angry tone.

“She seemed to be the one that facilitated the connection that aided Kurvitz’s new access.”

Gibbs pushed his shoulders back, arms crossed, clear animosity in his stance. “You don’t have proof!”

Blackwood nodded in agreement. “Jennifer Shepard was not in any condition to answer all the questions we had for her. Eli David was interviewed but his connections were different. He was not a fan of the Russians, Army, mob, or otherwise.”

Ziva deflated after this comment but still seemed uncomfortable.

“So, I don’t know what you mean,” Gibbs leaned forward, maybe trying to encroach on the other man’s personal space.

Blackwood didn’t change his relaxed posture. “There were other agents in Mossad that were connected to David’s plans but also acting in their own interests. Someone that made contact with Shepard, got a specific name that could help them bring a ship in with little fuss. Someone with connections to the Russian mob.”

“And who is this proverbial golden goose?” Gibbs sneered.

“Michael Rivkin,” Blackwood stated, and Tony could see Ziva mouthing the name at the same time.

It was clear that she might not have known all the details, but she knew enough to have suspicions of the man, and she hadn’t said anything. That meshed exactly with Tony’s dream-memories. DiNozzo turned to look at Gibbs and the man was also looking at Ziva. On his face was the understanding that she had known something and had concealed it. Tony could see disappointment and a little bit of anger on the older man’s face. He also could see determination.

Tony sighed. Gibbs was in full papa-bear mode and focused on protecting Ziva in this situation. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Chapter 10 – Clouds got in my way

Tony was back at Jacob’s house, having a beer and munching around the Chinese takeaway that BJ had brought to this midweek meeting. Henry was on the phone, a few feet away, apparently finishing some work thing.

“What now, Tone?” Jake seemed quite in tune with DiNozzo since their first conversation post plague and heart attack. “I thought things were back to normal at work after all the…” he waved his hand trying to indicate the mess with Shepard.

“Yep, work as usual…” Tony answered, his eyes on his beer bottle, absentminded peeling the label off.

“You don’t look like everything is ‘as usual’,” BJ commented in between food bites.

Tony sighed, trying to find a way to distract his frat brothers. He had forgotten how annoying, and endearing, it was to have people around him that could tell when he was not well even if he tried to prevaricate. In his dream-memories he was always alone, with his team not paying attention, or more probably not caring about him enough to ascertain his moods.

“Ah!” Henry cried from a distance; index finger raised like a stern teacher; his phone call obviously finished. “You always had your highs and lows, your roller coaster moods, Tony, but since your… ‘encounter of the 3rd kind with death’,” Henry continued, doing the quotation marks movement with his fingers. “It’s like you go all the way to the top of the Everest and then five minutes later you are down at the bottom of the Marianas trench! You can’t go on like that, brother,” he made hand movements up and down, to emphasize his comments, his voice rising and falling to follow the idea, finishing quietly at his final comment.

“Yeah,” BJ agreed. “I understand that your experience…” he stopped and took a deep breath. “No, I don’t understand. I never had a brush with death and all my close family is alive, so I have no idea what you’re going through, but I can see you need some… support?” BJ said, half in question, half in affirmation.

“That thing about ‘signs’, ‘fate’, ‘heads-up’ we talked about back at your apartment,” it was Jake’s turn. “It’s about that?”

DiNozzo was still immersed in confusion about the connection between Gibbs and Ziva, both now and in a very different scenario. He had believed that if the whole Haswari killing Kate and then Ziva killing him, apparently to save Gibbs, didn’t happen, MCRT and NCIS would be free of the Mossad liaison presence.

Seeing the easy connection already forming between those two in a completely different situation brought home that there was more in that relationship than he ever realized. Ziva had really lodged herself in the spot of Gibbs’ surrogate daughter, more than Abby ever was. Looking at his dream-memories, Tony could see Abby as a spoiled and over-indulged favourite niece, but Ziva was the one he would go all out for.

When the Interpol agent, Blackwood, had brought Rivkin’s name into the current case, DiNozzo had felt the cold running down his spine. Just as in his dream-memories, Ziva knew he had something to do with the case but didn’t look like she would have said anything. Gibbs recognized the same thing, but his facial expression indicated that he would do whatever he could to protect the Mossad officer and DiNozzo didn’t want to end up in the middle of that mess again.

Tony was lost in thought long enough for Henry to move and sit by his side, touching his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

“Yeah…” DiNozzo finally answered Jake’s question. “It has everything to do with the signs I think I got after my near… almost death experience…” he acknowledged, still not looking up to face his friends.

“Tony, maybe you should…” Henry started, clearly unsure if whatever he was about to say would be well received, but Jake was quick to cut him off.

“Like I said before, Tone, signs and screams from the universe might be there to wake you up, or grab your attention, but you still need to think before you start running to do whatever you believe was shown to you.”

BJ picked up from there. “You’re always trying to live up to someone else’s expectations, follow someone else’s plans. Like with the name change to avoid your father, this whole sign thing looks like you think it’s about someone else and not you.”

“Why would you say that?” DiNozzo asked, surprised. He believed the dream-memories were about what he did wrong in that dream life and how he could fix things in this one.

“Because you were all fired up with the changes with your spy-director but now you look lost in the forest all over again.”

“You did say things moved pretty quickly with that issue and now your work was more or less back to normal, so why are you so… I don’t know… depressed?” Jake commented.

“I know I keep hammering on about the whole therapy thing…” Henry started.

“Just because Charlie doesn’t leave you alone…” DiNozzo tried to interrupt.

“It’s nothing to do with my sister!” Henry cut him. “Oh, well, she’s the one that pushed me at it in the beginning, but!” He raised a finger to stop Tony interrupting. “It really helped. And you did some during your time back when you broke your leg.”

“Yep, enough for a lifetime.”

“Not really, if you’re all twisted up with this idea that your near-death experience gave you some kind of mandate to solve whatever issues NCIS and your boss have!” Henry retorted.

BJ leaned in his chair, raising his hands as if trying to separate the two of them. “Okay, kids, that’s enough. Both of you are right. Therapy is good, Henry, but the person needs to be ready to do the work.” He turned to DiNozzo when he smirked. “And you’re not responsible for everything going on at your work, your team or even your boss’ life, Tony.”

Henry nodded in agreement with Jake, while Tony slouched back into the sofa. “I don’t know any other way…” he muttered softly.

“That’s where we, your friends, come in,” BJ stated.

“And maybe some therapy,” Henry re-enforced.

“Let it go, man,” Jake moved to lightly punch Henry’s arm.

“Let’s try the friends’ approach first,” BJ insisted. “What can you tell us about these ‘signs’ you have, or received, or whatever; and how that involves your work?”

Tony took a deep breath and sighed out loud. ‘What could he say that would get him carried into a psychiatric ward with the tight embrace of a strait jacket?’

“Let’s say that I had a… dream? Or maybe better said I connected the dots on how the behaviour of my team could progress towards something not good?” Tony said hesitantly.

The other three men looked at him with pensive expressions.

“Like when you said that the assistant coach was planning to disrupt training, to push the blame for losing games onto the defenders?” Jake asked, remembering a moment of their shared college football history.

“Yes!” DiNozzo jumped at the lead, leaning forward on the sofa, hands moving almost like he was conducting an orchestra. “Yeah, exactly! Remember when I said his actions seemed innocuous but if you put together the way he was training different groups, it wouldn’t work during the games? And how Coach Miller was too focussed on the quarterback to pay attention?”

“Yep, I remember that and how hard it was to prove anything before the game,” Jake answered.

“I couldn’t prove it then; I just talked the guys into following a different training pattern and let Coach Miller give his orders before the game. Every time what’s-his-name would counter order something, I would go on and on about chain of command,” Tony explained.

“Ah! That’s why that guy went crazy mid-game!” BJ smiled in reminiscence. “It was crazy! But funny as hell when security took him away, thinking he was high or something.”

“What I did was annoying but nothing much. I heard afterwards that he had bets riding on our results and we needed to lose at the beginning of the season to make it worthwhile,” Tony concluded.

“Yeah, like your ferret plot, really weird how you look at dirt on the floor and a flying leaf and add it up to 4 and you’re still right,” Henry half joked.

“Yeah, weird…” Tony flopped backwards on the sofa again.

“So you’re stressed out now because you started to put things together and saw a future for your team that you didn’t like?” BJ summarized.

“Pretty much, yes,” Tony agreed.

“The thing with your spy-director helped some, right?” Henry asked.

“Some, yeah,” Tony smirked.

“And now you think that Mossad chick is the problem?” BJ continued.

“Pretty sure she is,” Tony agreed.

“But you don’t think you can take her out of the picture like the ex-director?” Jake asked seriously.

“Not the way my boss is acting, no. He’s gone all ‘father-figure’ over her,” Tony’s disappointment was clear.

“Can you change?” Henry asked.

“What?!” Tony asked, confused.

“If you can’t change how others react, can you change how you do? Tony, you always rely on your charms and way with words to push people in the direction you want them to go. If you don’t think this is an option here, can you change your ways so as to avoid whatever disaster you see looming in the future?” Henry suggested.

“Maybe this time the signs and hints you are seeing are not about other people’s actions but your own,” Jake completed.

DiNozzo felt boneless, just slumped there on the sofa. Since he’d woken up with his dream-memories swimming inside his head, he’d worked on the premise that he needed to change not only his choices and actions, but others too, avoid that dreadful future of MCRT and NCIS. But that future was his, wasn’t it? Maybe it was dreadful only to him. Maybe Gibbs was happy to play father to the wily Mossad liaison and McGee was happy writing his crappy barely disguised fanfiction and Abby didn’t see a problem in being a spoiled brat. Maybe, at the end, it was not about saving Kate for Kate’s sake. It was saving those he could so he, Tony DiNozzo, didn’t end up so heartbroken that he couldn’t recognize himself anymore.

ITNC

While Tony was being psychoanalyzed by his frat brothers, Ziva was back at Gibbs’ place.

“You aren’t exactly surprised by what the Interpol agent had to say,” Gibbs started while going through the motions to prepare cowboy steaks for them.

Ziva moved slowly around the kitchen, carefully picking up plates and cutlery, checking that coffee was brewing and putting a kettle on so she could have her tea with their meal.

“I knew Michael had Russian relatives,” she answered quietly. “He is Kidon trained but I never knew him to be under my father’s influence.“

“Blackwood said he had his own plans in motion.”

“I do not believe Michael is a traitor,” Ziva declared firmly.

“Depends on what you consider treason though,” Gibbs left the meat in the fireplace, turning to look at the young woman.

“Treason is betrayal,” she said.

“Betrayal of what? Or whom?”

“I do not understand…” Ziva was clearly uncomfortable.

“Your brother was acting in the way he thought would gather him the best results, wasn’t he? It might look like betrayal to Mossad or Hamas, but he believed he was avenging your sister,” Gibbs said quietly. Again, he thought of Hernandez; almost on the point of telling Ziva about him. Making himself more, not less vulnerable held him back.

Ziva looked directly at Gibbs, her head leaning sideways, expression pensive. “You are saying that he is working for his family?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Maybe. Or he thinks he can make real money with arms smuggling and doesn’t care about anything else,” he answered, turning back to the fire, moving the meat around.

“No!” Ziva controlled herself not to stomp a foot down. “He is honourable. Mossad Kidon. He would not betray our country. He saw what my father’s actions did to Mossad. It is hard enough to take out officers working under his orders.”

“You had something with him?” Gibbs asked bluntly.

“Had something?” Ziva asked, distracted.

“A romance? Were you two dating or whatever they call it these days? Rule 12, Ziva, never date a coworker. Never ends well,” he said, motioning for plates ready to take the food out of the fire.

“We have known each other since our teenage years,” Ziva approached with the plates.

“Didn’t answer my question,” Gibbs insisted.

Ziva accepted the plate with the smaller filet and moved back to the kitchen table where a small plate of salad and a pan with roasted potatoes waited. She served herself and sat down, picking up the cutlery she organized and started to eat. Gibbs followed her with his plate, spooned some potatoes on it and sat in front of her, eating without stopping staring at the Mossad officer.

“We were dating before the operation with Ari started,” she finally said in between bites. “When I was sent here as his handler, Michael was seconded to another mission, somewhere in the Balkans because he does speak Russian and some other local languages,” she completed, head down, pushing the food around her plate.

“So he could be involved in Kurvitz’ operations then,” Gibbs declared, finishing his food.

“I trust Michael,” Ziva responded with certainty, crossing her cutlery on the plate.

“You were wrong about Ari,” Gibbs provoked.

“I was misled by my father,” she countered firmly. “As was Ari.”

“Could this Michael also be misled?” There was suspicion in the tone of the question.

“Maybe,” Ziva reluctantly agreed. “Father has the gift of words. He speaks well and people follow.”

Gibbs nodded. “Sweet talk and spider web, dangerous combination.” After a while he stood up and started cleaning the dishes. “Will you be careful not to get tangled in this?” he asked quietly.

“I came here to help, to prove that Mossad is more than my father’s ambitious,” Ziva stated, also standing up, walking to the sink to help with the cleaning. “I want a clean start, no?” She looked Gibbs in the eyes.

“Clean slate,” Gibbs gave her one of his small, charming smiles. “Start anew. It would be good to have you in the team, Ziva.”

She smiled back. “Thank you, Gibbs. It would be nice to be part of a team.”

ITNC

The next morning, DiNozzo, McGee and Blackwood were huddled around McGee’s computer, discussing the data collected so far about shipments and the two ships movements. The one that exploded, Passing Star, and the one that should have arrived at the port last night, Shooting Star, had travelled repeatedly to Europe and to the Americas in an almost clockwork schedule. One of the ships would leave from the Arabian Sea, usually a Pakistani or Indian port, going through the Gulf of Suez to reach the Mediterranean and Europe and then crossing the Atlantic, mostly porting at one of the southern states before travelling around Central America and the top of South America, to cross the ocean back to Africa, navigating around South Africa and back where they started.

If the Passing Star hadn’t exploded with Gibbs, Kate and the damn fake informant, the ship would be going by South Africa now, on its normal schedule.

The Shooting Star arrived right on time. That could mean that the ships and their controllers didn’t communicate while at sea, or that the cargo was so important and/or valuable that they preferred to risk bringing it into port, even with the mishap of the other ship.

The three agents were discussing the options, with Balboa’s team already at the port, trying to follow the clearance of the cargo. They pulled Agent Rita Zamora to go undercover as the Navy officer to accompany Customs, since Petty Officer Collings was dead, and his wife was cooling her heels in a holding cell in the Navy Yard. Rita was a hardened Marine, but as a female, a lot of foreigners tended to discount her as non-threatening – to their own detriment.

DiNozzo saw Gibb’s jacket at his desk chair and an unknown backpack by Kate’s desk, but not the team leader or the Mossad liaison were around. Tony told Agent Blackwood to use Kate’s desk while working with them in a bit of petty reaction to the clear connection between Gibbs and Ziva. If the senior agent wanted to accept the Mossad officer, then he would have to make a stand on it and not allow the young woman to just slip in place like there’s nothing to be said about it, as in his dream-memories.

Blackwood went back to his assigned desk, typing away to bring what information he could to help. McGee was on the phone with Carson, Balboa’s SFA, serving as a bridge in the exchange of information. DiNozzo decided he would walk around the building to find Gibbs when the man himself trotted down the stairs from the mezzanine, followed sedately by Ziva David and Director Vance. Tony leaned against his own desk, crossing his arms in front of him, feeling a confrontation was inevitable.

“Move, Blackwood,” Gibbs ordered without even looking at the Interpol agent while reaching his own desk. “That’s for our team. You can sit over there,” he motioned haphazardly towards a desk on the other side of McGee’s, behind a divider.

McGee’s head popped from behind his monitors, his phone call finished. “Is Kate coming back so soon?” He asked, hope in his voice.

“Agent Todd has been medically retired,” Vance declared at the entrance to the bullpen. “She and her family decided that it was for the best, no matter the results of her recovery. If, in the future, she is well enough and interested in coming back, something can be considered.”

“Oh,” the probie sighed unhappily. “We are getting a TAD then?”

“No,” Gibbs leaned back into his chair and looked directly at Tony. “Officer David will be in our team, acting as liaison in any case with international connections, and learning to be an investigator.”

McGee sat with his mouth open for a moment, surprised. “Ah… Oh… Humm…” He stuttered and finally put himself together to turn towards Ziva, still by Vance’s side. “Ah, welcome aboard, Officer David.”

Blackwood typed some more on the computer and then logged out, standing up, picking up his backpack, and moving tables without a word, but with a knowing look thrown towards DiNozzo.

Ziva moved swiftly to the free desk, sat down, and started to organize the available stationery, picking up her own bag to bring her things into the space.

During it all, Gibbs and Tony stayed locked in a staring contest. Vance cleared his throat in an attempt to bring attention back to himself, but DiNozzo spoke before the other man could.

“What about a coffee, Gibbs? Should be awhile since you had your fill,” he suggested neutrally.

There was a heartbeat moment of silence that felt like the whole floor was frozen in place.

“Let’s go!” Gibbs answered, almost defiantly, collecting his wallet, creds and gun.

Tony was quick to do the same and the two men walked out of the bullpen without another word or even acknowledging anyone else in there.

“Oh-oh, not good…” McGee murmured, but quickly dived behind his monitor when Vance looked at him with his eyebrows raised.

Blackwood snorted from his new hidden desk but did not comment.

Ziva looked between the men present. “I have not noticed Agent DiNozzo drinking coffee at the same volume as Gibbs,” she commented disingenuously.

“Law enforcement learns quickly to take advantage of the caffeine kick,” Vance retorted and turned to go back to his office.

Ziva looked at the other two agents, but Blackwood kept ignoring her and McGee rapidly stuttered an excuse to leave his desk and go down to the lab to talk to Abby.

ITNC

DiNozzo chose a green tea from the coffee kart and moved away to let Gibbs order two cups of the pure black Marine grade beverage he preferred. The SFA paid for all drinks, as he normally did, and started puffing over his tea to cool it down, calmly waiting for the other man to pick up his coffee so they could walk halfway into the park area and sit down.

Neither of them said anything until they were at the bench that faced the NCIS building entrance. Gibbs seemed ready to wait until the other man was ready to say his piece, but he finished his first coffee and DiNozzo was halfway through his tea when he lost patience.

“What is it, DiNozzo?” Gibbs barked, throwing the empty camp in the nearby trash bin. “Not that I ever refuse coffee, but we are at the tipping point of this case, and we can’t just lie about enjoying the sun!”

“Why?” Was DiNozzo quiet retort.

“Why what, DiNozzo?” Gibbs tried to prevaricate.

“We talked about it, and you were dead against a Mossad liaison inside NCIS, never mind the team,” Tony was not in the mood to play Gibbs’ games with this subject. He kept thinking about the Rivkin debacle from his dream-memories. He tried to do good by Ziva because of Gibbs and he ended up beaten up, thrown under the bus to be interrogated by the Mossad Director, and until the end Ziva still considered him guilty of the other man’s death without any consideration of Rivkin’s or her own actions.

“We talked when Haswari was playing double agent, and Jenny might have been pushing someone to protect him. This is different. We now know it’s all Eli David doing and even if Haswari was stupid to mess with us because of his revenge, Ziva was not in on it. She helped to secure him and clear her father’s misdeeds.”

“So you think because Shepard and Eli are not in the picture, Ziva’s loyalties are not divided?”

A frown took over Gibbs’ face. “Jenny was sick. Ducky said she probably wasn’t in her right mind for months, even before she took the directorship. I would say it’s all on Eli’s head.”

“Nice and quick revisionism there, Gibbs.”

“What do you want, DiNozzo?”

“Not to have a foreign agent in our team,” Tony answered firmly but holding his temper in check.

“Aren’t you all for inter-agency cooperation?” Gibbs smirked. “That would put us up and close to it.”

“That is not a joke, Gibbs!” Tony ran a hand over his head, messing up his hair, feeling his control slipping. “Mossad agenda didn’t change because Eli isn’t in command anymore. The next in line will still want as much information as they can get and putting Officer David in position to access US military secrets is not something we should facilitate,” he stated, heavily stressing Ziva’s title.

Gibbs gulped down the rest of his second coffee, stood up and threw the empty cup in the trash. “My team, my rules, DiNozzo. Ziva wants a chance outside of her father’s shadow and the agency will benefit from it. Vance is happy with the idea and that can buy us a lot of leeway,” he turned to the younger man. “What’s your problem? Jealousy? Think she can bring more to the table than you?” He threw out in provocation.

Tony stayed seated, looking at the older man with a calm façade and hooded eyes. Once more the flood of dream-memories rushed through his mind. The many times off-handed mean comments flew around the bullpen. How Ziva, McGee and Gibbs would fling so-called jokes at him that felt like being skinned alive. How his contributions were used but never recognized. DiNozzo recalled last night’s conversation with his frat brother. Maybe all the signs from his dream-memories were about taking care of himself, with every other save or victory a byproduct instead of the overall objective.

Gibbs wondered why he didn’t get a reaction from the young man. He knew his comment was out of line, but he felt the need to shake the other’s attitude. Gibbs didn’t like to be challenged for certain, but he didn’t like to not know what the real issue was with his subordinate. ‘Was he a threat?’ Did he really think DiNozzo would betray him one day? He threw one more barb, looking for any reaction.

“Didn’t you set out to change things?” Gibbs enquired with a smirk. “Things changed and maybe it wasn’t what you expected or wanted, but I warned you. Things can change but not always the way you think they should go,” he finished, walking away without waiting for his SFA.

DiNozzo watched the senior agent moving away and murmured to himself: “Or you change yourself.”

Because Gibbs was reverting quickly to his sarcastic and taciturn behaviour from before the plague, when he didn’t like not to be on top of things. Tony also believed that Gibbs was feeling the loss of Jenny Shepard more acutely than he first thought possible. Ziva seemed to have slotted herself not only into the position of a surrogate daughter, as in his dream-memories, but as someone to be saved, since Gibbs couldn’t save Shepard. Looks like it would be Tony doing the changing to himself and not the situation.

 

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