"The Soviets had some success with pure ethanol."

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"This formula is of my own design."

The thin needle breaks skin upon contact, embedding itself into the targeted vein. A silent groan slips past my chapped lips.

"A mixture of sodium pentothal and several other agents I have found. . .effective in extracting the truth."

He kicks McGee's foot and tugs strands of Tony's hair on his way to the exit, both of whom are still unconscious.

"It will not take long for it to start working."

The drugs circle through my bloodstream. "You won't have to wait long. Your death's arriving much sooner than you think. It's up to you to decide whether it's the truth or not."

His fingers grasp the dirt-clad chair laying against the wall and prop it up in front of me.

"My name is Saleem Ulman. You will tell me who you are."

Somehow, the words leave my twitching mouth, no matter how hard I try to stop myself.

"Special Agent Evaline Giudice-DiNozzo of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service." A forced gasp follows my words.

"You know, a few months ago. . .I had, uh, not even heard of N.C.I.S." A familiar badge falls from his pocket — the badge he'd taken from me. "And that may have cost the lives of several of my people." It drops to the ground with a low thud. "That will not happen again."

Leaning forward, he allows his elbows to rest against his knees.

"Now, please, tell me: what is your mission?"

"W-We're-We're tasked with pursuing cr-crimes that involve the United States Navy or Marine Corps and their families. And our duties are. . .expansive."

Out of my control, they continue to flow with no end, including a vivid flashback of what the team was like before Ziva had joined. . .when Kate was still alive.

When I hit a particularly nerve about our team killing his men — martyrs, as he likes to call them — he smacks me into unconsciousness.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Ziva's not replaceable, alright? She never will be."

Once I regain consciousness, Saleem's chair is yet another few inches closer to mine, and he's resorted to stand behind me.

"The, um. . .the one you lost." He recalls from memory. "Then, why aren't you looking for her?"

Tears fog my vision when I remember the fellow agent. "I'd have her back in the N.C.I.S. building, without a second thought. But that's impossible seeing as she's dead."

A shaky breath leaves my parted lips, suddenly thirsty at the sound of Saleem twisting the cap off of ohsi canteen.

"I've always been fascinated by simple cause and effect reactions. . .what can be done to the human body just by adding or subtracting."

He circles the two chairs.

"My own personal drug of choice since my college days is caffeine. Keeps me sharp, alert."

The hot liquid flows down his well-hydrated throat, leaving me to only envision water seeping down my parched mouth.

"You are probably feeling clarity, an impulse to talk without censor. It's a chemical process taking place in your brain."

The tips of his fingers drum against my aching temple.

"Now, I understand your instinct to resist, but. . .in actuality, you are speeding the release of adrenaline, which only serves as a catalyst."

So as to not pass out on the spot, I give in to the temptation.

"That's better. It will be less painful than this."

Smack!

- - - - - - - - - -

"You believe I am responsible for the death of this. . .Ziva David. So, you travel halfway around the world to kill me."

"Don't forget about my unconscious partners laying on the ground because of you."

"That is insane."

"Are you really calling me insane?" My brow arches. "I'm not the one who kills indiscriminately."

"Wars are measured in body counts. News carries a running tally."

He lifts his hands to use for gestures and further his point.

"You change the world with rivers of blood. There is no reason to kill just one person."

"Of course there is. I have my reason to kill you, don't I?"

Saleem's arms cross over his chest, eyes narrowed in question.

"How did you find me?" He inquires.

"I am a skilled agent."

"You did it?" The gaze rakes over my injured and drugged body. "By yourself? Really?"

"Not exactly, so to speak."

This time around, the impatience reeks off of his body as he yanks strands of hair and forces me to look up at him.

"How. . .did you find me? Who are you leaving out?"

"Don't knock me out —"

- - - - - - - - - -

Saleem tosses aside his canteen at the revelation of what he was drinking — and where it had come from all along.

"It's just a little caffeine addiction, Saleem. Nothing to worry about. Perhaps you picked up the old trick at your college!"

Thud!

The door slams shut behind him.

"And how are my old friends doing?" I glance down, knowing McGee and Tony have been awake this entire time.

Just as planned.

"A little sore from the hair pulling." Tony winces when his head hits the ground again.

I gaze up at the single lantern illuminating the room. "Yeah, well, try being knocked unconscious three times and doped up on unknown chemicals."

"You win." McGee mutters under his breath. "Now, when do we move?"

"Not yet."

"It may be our best shot —"

"I said not yet. Wait for my signal."

Saleem's yelling can be heard from behind the heavy door, growing louder and louder when he enters the room with a few other men.

"Questions are being asked in town about missing N.C.I.S. agents, concern that U.S. forces might mobilize."

Sack covering the top of their head, another being is placed in the chair across from me.

"One of you will tell me the identities and locations of all the operatives in the area, and the other one will. . .die."

The sack is removed to reveal. . .Ziva David.

"I will give you a moment to decide who lives."

And the rest of them leave.

"So. . .are we getting the band back together?"

The first thing she utters to me is the fact that I found her and how I shouldn't have come in the first place.

Some of Tony's sarcasm has made its way into my personality, and I let it show instead of the relief I feel from seeing her alive.

The door swings back open with a whine, and Saleem enters the room with a knife.

"We're moving out." He gazes out the window briefly. "And we're not taking prisoners."

A tired smile forms on my face. "Perfect timing. . .because you have ten seconds to live."

"You're still bound. You're lying." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"I was taught to never lie." The grin only grows. "And I never said that I would be the one to kill you, now, did I?"

Three. . .two. . .one.

A bullet shatters through the glass, striking Saleem right in the forehead. McGee and Tony stand up immediately, cutting the zip ties that bound me and Ziva.

The minutes it takes us to escape, Gibbs has arrived to our rescue.

"Let's go home."