by EJ Fisch
Emeri hung his head and ran his hands over his face again, letting them linger in his silvery-gray hair for a moment before bringing them down hard against the desk. “I’ve placed Ziva under house arrest until her execution this evening,” he said, taking an empty data pad from a drawer and connecting it to his computer. “It didn’t make much sense to let her wander free until then; nobody would ever be able to catch her again. There are three squadrons of agents posted outside her home to make sure she doesn’t try to leave, and all vehicles registered to that household have been confiscated.”
Aroska’s heart skipped a beat as he realized what the director was doing, but he said nothing as he watched the official pardon document transfer from the computer to the data pad.
“Show this to them and they will be relieved of their posts,” Emeri explained, sliding the pad across the desk but maintaining a grip on it when Aroska reached hesitantly for it. “Lieutenant?”
A beat.
“No one is to ever know the truth, understood? Not Sergeant Duvo, not Officer Vax, not even the king himself. No one. I want you to forget why this ever happened. Now get out of here before I regret doing this.”
It was difficult for Aroska to suppress a smile as he took up the data pad and nodded his respectful thanks. “Understood, sir.”
He turned and walked out, feeling as though a massive burden had just been lifted from his shoulders – which it had.
-60-
Payvan residence
Noro, Haphez
The guards had been outside all night and the full previous day, pacing, speaking into their communicators in low voices, jumping to attention every time a door or window opened. So far though, they hadn’t intruded except for a couple of routine checks inside the house. Sometimes they could be heard laughing and joking among themselves, a brief escape from the tedium of standing outside all day, but they had remained quiet for the most part.
When Marshay had responded to the gentle knock on the door and the single chime of the bell, she had expected to find one of the agents requesting another run-through of the house. At first she’d been grateful that they’d learned to quit pounding and be more polite, but the thought had occurred to her that something was different just as she’d opened the door.
Now, as she looked up into Aroska Tarbic’s warm amber eyes, she realized that she no longer heard the sounds of the agents outside. She stared past him and caught sight of the HSP cars just as they were disappearing back into the city. It was clear that their departure was directly related to Aroska’s presence, but she wasn’t sure how.
The lieutenant was a charming young man with a kind heart, excellent work ethic, and good intentions – Marshay had been able to tell all of this almost immediately upon meeting him several nights earlier. He was tall, strong, and handsome, the kind of man that she would allow to court her daughter if she had one. However, Ziva, who was close enough to being a daughter, was scheduled for execution in less than twelve hours and this was the man responsible for it. No matter how much Marshay had liked him before, he was certainly not welcome now.
“What do you want?” she demanded sternly, placing her hands on her wide hips and glaring up at him through narrowed violet eyes.
“Marshay, please,” he answered gently. His tone and posture were calm, almost apologetic. “I need to come in.”
She put her thick arm across the doorway, blocking his entrance – not that it would do much good if he really tried to get in. “Not a chance. Do you know how much trouble and pain you have caused this house in the last two days?”
“Please Marshay!” Aroska repeated, more desperate this time. “I know, and I’m sorry for everything, but you need to let me in. I have to talk to Ziva right now.”
“She’s not here! Do you really think she’s dumb enough to stick around just waiting to die? A few guards aren’t going to stop her from going anywhere. She’s long gone by now.”
Marshay watched carefully to see how he might respond to that news. Her words had floored him; he stood motionless, eyes unblinking, mouth slightly open. Even if he had something else to say, the ability to speak eluded him. His knuckles were white as he clutched a small data pad in one hand. He uttered a small sound reminiscent of the word “no.”
Satisfied by his reaction, Marshay felt herself relax. Her arm that was blocking the door slid back to her side and her other hand settled over her heart. She studied him for a moment, trying to see into his mind, figure out exactly what he was thinking. “Lieutenant, what’s going on?” she asked warily.
The sound of her voice snapped him out of his dazed stupor and he looked down at the deactivated data pad. “So she’s gone?”
Marshay neither confirmed nor denied.
“I needed to give her this,” Aroska said, handing over the pad. His face was full of disappointment and dread.
She took it from him, activated the holographic screen, and read over the first part of the document that came up. What she saw made her gasp. The document was an official pardon, authorized by Director Emeri Arion himself. Ziva was listed as the recipient.
Marshay looked back up at Aroska, who was watching her hopefully with a remorseful look in his eyes. For a moment Marshay thought she might cry, but she swallowed back the knot in her throat and stepped aside, inviting him in.
“You did this?” she asked as he came in and stood quietly in the living room.
The lieutenant nodded. “I did some careful thinking,” he said, hands folded behind his back. “A very wise man told me that Ziva is always right, even when I think she’s wrong.” He forced a short chuckle. “I realized he was right. I’m the one who’s been wrong all along.”
Marshay smiled kindly. She’d heard Skeet explain that to many people, all of whom had eventually understood the merit of his words. In fact, she was one of them.
Aroska looked back at her. “Please Marshay. If you have any way of contacting her, I need to know.”
She sighed and took him by the arm. “Follow me.”
-61-
Payvan residence
Noro, Haphez
Ziva listened to the conversation unfold from a place that had come to be known as “The Loft” over the years. It could most accurately be described as a storage space built into the support beams of her bedroom ceiling, but it was virtually invisible to someone who didn’t know it was there and it wasn’t used for simple storage anymore. Upon moving back into this house eight years before, Ziva had converted it into the ultimate hideout, complete with food, clothes, weapons, and any other survival necessities that would allow for a quick escape or enable her to hide there for up to several days. She’d spent the entire morning pacing back and forth across her room, but had climbed up into The Loft for a better vantage point when she’d heard Aroska’s voice.
Aroska. The man was a fool for returning. She’d thought long and hard about their confrontation on the landing pad and was now wishing she would have simply shot him in the head when she’d had the chance. She had an escape plan in the works, but she’d also had a feeling he would come. It was the only reason she’d stayed put until now. She was ready for another shot, in every sense of the word.
At the moment she could hear him begging Marshay to let him inside. She turned and selected a suppressed projectile pistol from the meager weapons cache she kept in The Loft. If he even took one step into the house, she’d kill him.
Ziva walked noiselessly over to the ventilation duct that allowed air to flow between the hidden room and the kitchen. Through the metal slats she could see Marshay standing at the front door holding what appeared to be a data pad, talking to Tarbic who remained outside and out of sight. What caught Ziva’s attention was the housekeeper’s facial expression, which read of suspicion and shock. When she stepped out the way to allow Aroska to come inside, Ziva gripped her pistol so tightly that her whole hand turned white. She refrained from giving herself away just yet however, curious as to the reason behind Marshay’s action
s. She watched as Aroska came to a standstill beside the sofa, waiting to see what the housekeeper would say next.
“You did this?” the woman asked quietly, still staring at the data pad in disbelief.
Tarbic nodded in the affirmative and proceeded to go off on a spiel about realizing he was wrong, no doubt something he’d heard from Skeet. Ziva’s inner leader and teammate urged her to listen to him and give him another chance. But the operative and killer were there too, warning her that it was just another revenge trip, one last chance for Aroska to get close enough to finish her off himself.
When Marshay placed a hand on his arm and began leading him into the hallway, Ziva wound herself up even tighter, if it were possible. She moved back to the edge of The Loft where she had a clear view down to her bedroom floor four meters below. Her door was still shut, but they’d kept it unlocked to allow the agents to come and go without question.
The door slid open with a hiss and Aroska stepped into the room, holding the data pad that Marshay had been looking at. He took several hesitant steps forward and stopped, taking a moment to look around. The room was large, bigger than the entire apartment that Ziva and her team lived in while working on Aubin. Her bed and wardrobe, along with an ancient keyboard instrument that had been in the house since she was little, rested on a mezzanine several steps above the level of the rest of the room. The remainder of the room was occupied by her personal computers and communications grid, disassembled weapons and machinery, and not much else. Knick knacks and mementos held little value for her – they only caused clutter and informed others of what she cared about, two things she did not want.
Aroska stood, taking all of it in, but made no move to search further or touch anything. He swung his head in a slow arc, probably listening more than looking. Thanks to Marshay, he knew she was there somewhere. “Ziva?” he said quietly.
Ziva held perfectly still. If he happened to look up in exactly the right place, he might see her. However, he didn’t look up – his eyes were focused downward on the data pad. He was waiting for her to make the first move, letting things fall into place on her terms. Ziva was suddenly greatly curious as to what was so special about that data pad.
Aroska took one last look across the room and then turned to leave. As soon as he cleared the doorway, she let herself down from her hiding place, hanging from a beam for a moment before dropping silently to the floor on sore legs. She raised the pistol to the back of his head, but lowered her arm again just as he turned around, having sensed movement behind him.
They watched each other with unblinking eyes for what seemed like a long time. Tarbic didn’t go for his weapon, and Ziva didn’t remove hers from her side. She waited, muscles tense, for him to give her some explanation as to what was going on.
He finally stepped back into the room and shut the door behind him, moving over to place a foot on the bottom step up to the mezzanine. He didn’t look around, didn’t try to figure out where she had been – he kept his eyes glued to her until he stopped moving.
“You look like hell,” he said.
She felt like it. She’d been awake since they’d left Sardonis, only worsening her state of exhaustion. She hadn’t had much of an opportunity to clean up, either. There was still unidentifiable gunk on her skin and in her hair from her brief imprisonment. She sported a black eye from the fight with Bothum, and a good portion of her body was covered in other cuts and bruises. She’d managed to at least change clothes and apply caura treatment to her legs and lacerated wrists. Still, her whole body ached, her head was throbbing, and she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for about three days straight.
Aroska glanced down at the data pad and shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “You know you have a very beautiful home. I meant to say something the other night. Marshay and Ryon seem great…” His voice trailed off.
Ziva set her face in stone, refusing to give him any clues as to the hundreds of thoughts spinning inside her head. Her finger remained poised over the trigger guard on her pistol, still itching to put a round through his forehead.
“But I suppose it’s obvious that I’m not here to compliment you on your house,” he continued after several awkward seconds of silence, forcing a bit of a nervous chuckle. More silence followed, and he finally took several stiff strides forward, set the data pad on the desk nearest Ziva, then retreated back to the steps.
Ziva took her eyes off of him long enough to look down at the small screen and take in the first few lines of text. After overhearing the conversation in the living room, she’d had a general idea of what it was, but she couldn’t begin to understand the reason for it. She looked back up at him, her gaze drilling straight through him, probing his mind, testing his motives.
“Ziva Jai Payvan, you’re free to go.”
While that much was clear, he still wasn’t giving her a sufficient explanation as to what force in the galaxy had caused the director to change his mind. A certain relief was fighting its way into her, but she refused to let it overtake her until she was completely certain that this wasn’t just an act on Aroska’s part. She didn’t believe he was lying to her, but then, she wasn’t exactly sure what to believe after he’d turned her in for saving his miserable life. Some thanks that was.
“I talked to Emeri early this morning and convinced him to drop the charges. Lucky for you, he never told anyone because he was afraid more Nosti might show up and it would attract the Federation. As of this moment, the three of us are the only ones who know the truth. A story has been leaked to the public that there was a great misunderstanding and you were falsely accused of breaching protocol. Nobody knows I was involved.” Aroska paused, watching her, arms folded across his chest. After another period of silence he turned toward the door. “I just thought I’d let you know in person.”
“Why’d you do it?”
The sound of her own voice startled Ziva as much as it startled Aroska. He whirled, having only made it a step or two from where he’d just been standing, and stared. Ziva waited for an answer, significantly loosening the grip on her gun.
Aroska straightened and cleared his throat. “When you can trust your sworn enemy more than the woman you thought was your closest friend, it really puts things into perspective. I’ll give it to you straight. You’re not the person I thought you were, Ziva. I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for killing Soren, but it hasn’t been as easy to hate you as I thought it would be. You risk everything on a day-to-day basis, and for what? Jole and Tate are never going to be one hundred percent again, but you put your own life on the line to get both of them out. You came back for me when you could have just let me die – would have solved all your problems, right? To top it off, you trusted me enough to share your secret, and I turned my back on you.”
Ziva wasn’t sure if “trust” and “sharing her secret” had even been part of her thought process at the time. Using her Nostia to move the column had been more of a simple reflex than anything else. But she was glad that Aroska was acknowledging the fact that she’d risked her life for nothing.
He sighed and raked his hand back over his hair, which was neatly pulled back into the short ponytail he’d worn before the mission. “You’ve got a heart, whether you like it or not, and you don’t deserve to die after everything you’ve done these past few days. That’s why I did it – I’m giving you a second chance because you gave me one. It’s the very least I could do.”
For awhile as she watched him stand there, breathless, Ziva wasn’t sure if he was done. She saw his next words pile up on his tongue, but he shut his mouth before they could come out. He finally glanced away, his face red with embarrassment.
His little speech had successfully shut her down and Ziva slowly set the pistol down beside the data pad. She raised her eyebrows and leaned back against the edge of the desk, arms crossed. “I’m not sure if I know what to say.”
“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he replied bluntly.
/> She shook her head and scoffed. “That wouldn’t even begin to cover it.”
“Say thank you and we’ll call it even. I pulled you up off the cliff and bailed you out of this, and you got me out of Dakiti and kept that pillar from crushing my sorry ass.”
The incident on the cliff seemed like a lifetime ago, but she could picture it perfectly as the memory flashed through her mind again. She smirked. “I believe you still owe me one for taking Saun out before she could blow your head off. However, under the current circumstances, we can call it even.” She rose to a standing position and placed her hands on her hips with a slight tip of her head. “Thank you, Lieutenant – for everything.”
Aroska beamed and moved toward her, closing the gap between them to less than a meter. “Let’s start over, shall we?” He offered his hand. “Hello, Lieutenant Payvan. My name is Aroska Tarbic, and I think I’d like to be your friend.”
She returned the handshake and crossed her arms again. “What would you think of a permanent position in special ops?”
He stared, dumbfounded, and stammered for a moment. “Is that okay with you? What would the director have to say about it?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He thought for a few more seconds, then shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t feel it’s my place. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stay and oversee the disbandment of Solaris, then we’ll see where things go from there.”
Ziva nodded respectfully. “I understand. Let me know if there’s anything that Skeet, Zinni or I can do to help.”
She limped through the door and led him out into the living room, the first time she’d left her bedroom in almost two days. Marshay was busy in the kitchen, but politely vanished to give the two of them some privacy. They stopped at the front door and Ziva let it stand open, smelling the cool mid-morning air.
“You hungry?” Aroska asked, pausing with one foot inside and the other out on the front step. “We could go get something to eat, maybe grab a drink. I’m buying.”