Alice Story part 2

Blowback

"TV drama. Eight letters down," Gibbs asks Tony the question to his cross-word puzzle he is attempting to finish because I bet him that he wouldn't be able to finish it. We are all sit in the gulfstream this fine morning. I am sitting next to Gibbs working my way through a great book called NYPD red by James Patterson. Gibbs is wearing a white shirt under a red button up shirt, all held together by a brown jacket over the top. I am wearing a denim shirt with two pockets, one over each breast, and the sleaves fall to my elbows, the shirt isn't tucked into my pants for a change. On the bottom I am wearing a pair of denim skinny jeans, that are tucked into my boots. I am also wearing my belt and necklace that Gibbs gave me both. To tight the whole look together I am wearing a cream jacket with a sheep wool liner that Abby gave me for my last birthday. Tony is wearing a black button up shirt and a black jacket.

"Uh... saint elsewhere?" Tony guesses but maths has never been his strong suit. He notice that our prisoner, who is laying across two chairs and handcuffed behind his back, has worked up making him exclaim, "Oh, uh... goof morning, Sunshine!"

"Where am I?" the prisoner, Goliath, demands of us with a heavy Israeli accent angrily as he looks around in fear.

"Tenerife, which is the Canary Islands. We're almost there," Tony informs him with a yawn.

"Where?"

"Hey, what kind of clubs do they have in Morocco?"

"We're not going to Morocco, Tony," I inform him as Goliath looks confused while Tony pouts at me.

"Come on, on our way back?"

"On the way back from where?" Goliath demands of us in confusion.

"Oh, I'm sorry. They only gave you a one way ticket," Tony informs him, confusing him even more.

"Who are they?"

"Here's the deal. We jump into Casablanca, hit rick's café for a little cocktail. I could tickle the ivories," Tony begins making Gibbs chuckle at him without looking away from his cross-word puzzle, Tony continues, "Here's looking at you, kid. And then we're back to the D.C. Nobody knows."

"Who are you people?!" Goliath demands in fear as he moves his hands making the handcuffs raddle.

"Couriers. Delivering a package. As a favour to our Israel friends."

"Package?"

"Font take it personal, Goliath," I inform him.

"Yeah, can I ask you about that? Every arms deal I meet, they have the cheesiest code names? I mean, Goliath? Did you choose that?" Tony demands of him.

"You are CIA, yes?" Goliath guess making us all laugh at him.

"Well, this should be interesting. Goliath, I'd like you to meet one of our Israeli friends," Tony interduce my bitch as she walks out of the cockpit making me smirk. Ziva is wearing all black today, her shirt is a Tuttle neck sweater.

"Don't break him, Bitch," I warn her before continuing to inform her, "Just bite him... it works wonders.

"You are a traitor, to our country and our people," Ziva hisses at Goliath in Hebrew as she slaps him.

"I never sell weapons to Hamas or Hezbollah!" Goliath hiss back at her in Hebrew.

"You sell to people who do!" Ziva corrects him in English making me blink, we're missing half that conversation.

"You're lucky she doesn't have her slingshot," Tony jokes.

"Still waiting for clearance to take off. The pilot says we'll only be on the ground for a couple more minutes when we reach Zaire. It's much too dangerous to stay there any longer," Ziva informs us.