NCIS: S7E01 – Alternate Version (2/4)
"Between Two Worlds"
SOURCE PHOTOS: Screenshots S7E04
Ziva continued gathering information.
She reestablished contact with members of her father’s network.
Not all of them answered.
Some demanded payment.
Exorbitant sums.
Others refused outright.
One gave an answer.
Then disappeared.
She reached out to an old contact.
The only option she had left.
There was no official backing for what she was doing.
No authorization. No backup. Only fragments.
She contacted Gibbs discreetly.
She told him only enough to keep him informed.
Not enough to make him responsible.
He did not approve.
But he did not stop her either.
An NCIS agent was missing.
And she was the only one who could act quickly.
But that was not entirely true.
Rivkin had lied to her.
And she had allowed herself to be deceived.
That was the part she found hardest to accept.
Not his betrayal.
Her own blindness.
She had been trained to see what others missed.
This time, she had seen only what she wanted to see.
That realization stayed with her.
Ziva carried several quiet fears with her.
That the last image Tony had of her would be anger.
That he had seen their argument as a final break.
That he had left thinking she despised him.
She did not know what he believed.
The urgency was still there.
Only the reason had changed.
She steadied her breathing.
Mission. Not personal.
Personal meant losing control.
She was already in motion.
· · ─────────── ·✦· ─────────── · ·
Ziva financed part of the operation herself.
Fragmented transfers. Intermediaries. Old channels from Eli’s network.
Without his knowledge ... for now.
She would deal with the consequences later.
There was no other option.
Nothing clean. Nothing fully traceable.
Every step depended on someone else.
And every intermediary could disappear or talk.
She did not like uncertainty.
Ziva took a bus.
Then she walked several kilometers.
The meeting point was an abandoned house.
Once a holiday home.
Now forgotten.
As a child, she had come here with Tali during the summers.
The house had belonged to a distant relative.
After Tali's death, no one had used it again.
It had been forgotten.
Which was exactly why she had chosen it.
Inside, cobwebs hung from the corners.
Dust covered every surface.
No one had been here for years.
On the old dining table, equipment was already laid out.
Raphael had started preparing everything.
Ziva looked at the contents and set her own bag on the floor.
He barely looked up when he heard her footsteps, then smiled.
He came over and hugged her, a simple gesture, as if it were natural.
She allowed it.
Raphael looked older than she remembered.
A few gray strands had appeared at his temples.
- You still managed to pick the most welcoming place around.
Ziva gave a small smile in return.
It did not reach her eyes.
There was genuine sincerity in her voice.
His gaze swept the room.
- And how did you get here? he asked more quietly.
- I walked from the bus stop.
He let out a soft whistle.
He nodded toward a cooler in the corner.
She moved closer and opened it.
Inside was packaged food.
She hesitated.
She took whatever looked most edible.
As they ate, they went over the plan.
Raphael spoke in practical terms.
Entry points. Timing. Extraction routes.
He knew what he was doing.
Ziva listened without interrupting.
There was no time to waste.
That night, she did not sleep.
She sat with the plans spread out, going over them again and again.
Nothing changed.
And yet she kept checking.
Raphael said nothing when he noticed the light still on hours later.
He simply left a cup of coffee near the table.
Untouched.
He stepped outside and sat on the front steps.
He lit a cigarette and watched the empty road.
When it had burned down to the filter, he crushed it beneath his boot. When he returned, nothing had changed.
· · ─────────── ·✦· ─────────── · ·
Ziva did not move for a long moment.
Her gaze stayed on the plans, then drifted away, briefly.
Her eyes returned to the same line.
She was no longer reading it.
- You jeopardized your entire career, and for what?
- For you. He was playing you, Ziva.
- For some reason, you felt it was your job to protect me?
- I did what I had to do.
- You killed him.
- If I had not, you would be having this conversation with him.
But maybe that is the way you would prefer it.
- Perhaps I would!
The words stayed with her.
Not because she had meant them.
She had not.
But because, for a moment, she had not denied them.
They had been said while she was looking at him.
And nothing had taken those words back.
That was what returned later.
Not the sentence.
The moment it had been allowed to exist.
And what it would have meant if she had truly believed those words.
That would have broken her.
Not the decision.
The consequence.
Raphael woke up abruptly at the sound of Ziva swearing.
He opened his eyes and saw her throw her phone onto the mattress.
She stayed still for a second, fists clenched, eyes closed.
He sat up slowly and watched her.
- What is it?
- One of my contacts just pulled out.
He cannot get us across the border tonight.
- That was expected. You knew there would be obstacles.
He stood and walked closer to her.
- Have you slept at all?
- Yes.
He held her gaze.
Ziva did not look away.
- Two hours. Enough.
- Coffee?
- Is this still what you want?
He looked at her more carefully now.
- You will have to face your father when he finds out.
Ziva’s expression hardened slightly.
- If you want to pull out, say it now.
He raised his hands slightly in surrender.
- I told you I would come. I keep my word.
But you are pushing this too hard.
You need more rest, or you are going to compromise the mission.
- This is not just about an NCIS agent.
- That is what I thought.
- It is not what you think.
She set her weapon under her pillow and lay down, turning away.
They left before sunrise.
Neither of them spoke much during preparations.
Ziva checked her equipment twice.
Raphael did not comment, but watched her quietly.
The delay had already changed the plan.
There was no time to adjust it.
Still, she did not slow down.
· · ─────────── ·✦· ─────────── · ·
It took them three days to reach the Somali border.
Ziva and Raphael crossed using false identities.
He knew the terrain. She knew the network.
They had worked together before.
She knew what kind of man he was.
Trust had been earned, not given.
They traveled light.
One bag each. Weapons. Cash. A satellite phone. A change of clothes.
One of Ziva’s contacts had pulled out.
They had fallen behind schedule.
In this region, delays came at a price.
The heat slowed everything.
Even thoughts.
Ziva hated it.
Not the heat. Not the exhaustion.
The uncertainty.
