I'm a bit of a fan of looking for stories within stories, the bit as one writer once put it, that is just outside the camera viewfinder. This is one such story. Please enjoy!

oXo

The world was full of uncertainties. Every day a new challenge presented itself to be conquered, a new enemy to confront, a new friend to assess, difficult decisions to be made, hard choices with unpredictable endings. Today was such a day.

From the window of his office, Mossad Director Eli David watched with a mixture of parental and operational interest at the scene that was playing out below him in the courtyard.

The angle from which he was watching and the bullet resistant glass made the conversation below impossible to hear, but the intent of the actions of the two people involved was as plain as if they were standing in the next room. He smiled in grim satisfaction as Ziva put the impudent pup from the United States to the ground. The boy was good; he would admit that much. Very few people had ever been able to manipulate Eli to their own ends during the course of his career – and those who had were not generally heard from again. So to have this upstart from NCIS goad him into revealing certain Mossad allegiances in full view of the camera being monitored by the pup's superiors was at the same time educational and embarrassing and left him with a dilemma.

Agent DiNozzo's involvement with his daughter was reason enough concern as a father, his involvement with her as his agent was a far greater one. Eli could understand his interest in her, Ziva was by any standard a great beauty – just like her Mother, and he had spent many years cultivating her wit, charm and personality into a tool to be used in seamless conjunction with her looks and other talents. Given the right circumstances Ziva could turn the head of anything with a Y chromosome – a distinct advantage for a young woman trained as a Kidon officer. Ziva could play the seductress, the lover, and the temptress so seamlessly that men fell on their knees around her. So it was no wonder that this young Fool would also fall for his beguiling child.

A Fool. Eli David snorted ungracefully; a fitting term for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. His dossier even supported the idea. It was a tome, a lamentation to a life behind a mask, a life as an entertainment for the benefit of others. Perhaps a Shakespearian Fool would be a more fitting description of the young man, and like Touchstone and Feste before him, DiNozzo was a player to be watched carefully. A quick wit and tongue, a sharp eye for details and story, the ability to act the buffoon to hide his true intentions. In another time and place Eli David would seek to engage the American to his own ends. The boy had qualities that could not be learned, you were born with them or not, qualities that made him every bit as dangerous as his own offspring. Like it or not, this boy had killed one of his most skilled agents. Dr Mallard's report had read that Rivkin's blood alcohol level far exceeded even the American's acceptable legal driving limits, but Rivkin was also Kidon, even in an inebriated state it would take a well trained or exceptionally lucky opponent to take him down. It now begged the question – which was Anthony DiNozzo? Yes, the Fool was an apt description for that young man.

A scuffle of movement drew his attention, the corner of Director David's mouth twitching as Ziva set herself poised over her 'partner', her gun trained pointedly at his chest. With luck the situation would remedy itself and Eli would not have to consider his options. Hadar's orders would still stand until a decision was reached. If the time came and the outcome was not to the Directors liking, he would compose a somber letter of condolence to his good friend Leon over the tragic accident to befall his agent.

Retaining his gaze on the drama unfolding beneath his window, Eli watch it come to an abrupt end as Ziva stalked away from her prey, leaving him breathless on the concrete. His form a dark grey blotch on the pale grey ground. The boy was in pain; Eli could see his breathing – a mixed blessing – trying to catch his wind. Moving carefully, the Agent rolled to his side and rose to his feet. Twisting his head from side to side, and rubbing his left shoulder, the beaten man moved slowly away and out of the line of sight of the Director. If what Leon had implied was to be believed they were only here for a few more hours. Decisions had to be made – and soon.