Ziva David Mossad Training

Chapter 1: Warming up

Seventeen year old Ziva David opened the door to the Mossad Training Center. The smell of sweat mixed with blood met her nostrils, and the sound of men grunting and yelling reached her ears.

She narrowed her eyes, and scanned the facility for her father. She spotted him upstairs, resting up against the railing to carefully observe his Mossad Officers.

Ziva sighed. Since her father was here, he would make sure to work her extra hard. Push her past her breaking point, then punishing her afterword for her weakness.

She made her way past the boxing ring, and past the men running full sprint on the treadmill. A few men she recognized waved at her. She waved back.

Ziva rested her gym bag on one of the benches of the women's locker rooms, and started to stretch. She prided herself in her flexibility. She slid into the splits, and held herself there for a few seconds before switching to the other side. Then, she lied down on her stomach and aligned her feet to both ends of the wall. She scooted backwards so that her butt was up against the wall as well. She was in the middle splits now, and she rested her head on top of her hands, and rested.

After she was satisfied with how long she held the splits, she army crawled out of the position. She stood up and shook out her legs.

Ziva then decided to loosen up her back. She sat on the locker room floor, and twisted herself into the bridge. She walked her hands closer to her feet, to intensify the stretch. After enough blood had rushed to head to make her feel dizzy, she twisted out of the bridge.

Ziva made her way to sink, and splashed her face with water. "You can do this, Ziva". She encouraged herself. "Let's kick butt".

She dried her face off with her towel and made her way out of the locker room, and into a private, isolated room. This was where her personal trainer her father hired, to train her.