Unseen black clouds were hovering over one unlucky NCIS agent. He didn't know that, but his life was about to change. Even if the mission was a simple one, to get voiceprints from this wealthy neighborhood, things were not just simple. An NCIS van was there as the agent's backup with two other agents ready to provide cover. What the hell could get wrong? Tony DiNozzo was just in front of a house when he tried one la more time to get a reaction from his two teammates.

"McChatterBox, come on, give the man a word! Talk to me, Probie! Tell me you are there."

Silence. Not even static. Tony had a bad feeling about this. Before knocking on the door, he took out his cell phone to check for signal. Yup, three bars! Things were going great. Or at least he thought so. After knocking on the door, he touched the hidden gun for reassurance. When the door opened, he almost took a step back; only his instinct honed by years of undercover work made him keep a straight face. The man standing in the doorframe was a sleek young man with reptile-cold eyes. Even if his lips were trying to form a friendly smile, something in his gaze kept making Tony's gut churn and scream "danger". But he tried.

"Hello! I just wonder if you can help me. I'm trying to buy a house in this area and I want to meet some of the people from around. Think you can help me, Mr…?"

But the man was just looking at him. Unshaved, with a face carved by a drunken sculptor. Another look was passed and Tony shrugged. If the man wasn't willing to talk, at least he could force him into a reaction. He extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

"You know, this reminds me of a movie I saw a few days ago and a phrase from it. It goes like this: "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers". Vivien Leigh, great actress."

The man moved unexpectedly. His hands moved with the speed of a striking cobra and grabbed his throat.

"Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death! Rosalind Russell. I can feel the rats, ya know? And what do you do with a rat? Waste him!"

Shocked by the sudden attack, DiNozzo felt his lungs on fire; the hands around his throat were cutting air supply to his already damaged lungs and he tried in vain to knee the stranger in the groin. The other man just laughed.

"You are in no position to fight back, rat."

He dragged DiNozzo inside the house and slammed the door behind him. With all his remaining strength, Tony half-yelled into the mike:

"Ziva! McGee! Get over here, I'm dying!"

Nothing. Just static. Red flecks of light were playing behind his closed eyelids while his hand was reaching for the gun. The stranger kept the pressure going and there was a glint of madness in his eyes. Tony felt like his last strength was about to end and he made one last attempt to reach the knife hidden in the buckle. To no avail. The man was more powerful and skilled than him. A sharp pain erupted from the back of his head and the world dissolved into nothingness.

*NCIS surveillance van*

They just sat there listening to what seemed like a chatterbox. Tony was talking non-stop, making all kind of movie references and famous movie quotes. McGee was fuming on the inside. Why didn't Gibbs pick him for this undercover job? He was sure Tony was not the only one from his team who could do undercover gigs. All McGee wanted was a chance, a chance to prove that he was at least as good as Tony in all business. Come on, how hard could it be to go around a quiet neighbourhood and blab a lot of questions, just to get a few voiceprints? Ziva was hot on his tail when she piped in.

"I do not know why Tony is making such a big fuss over this. He keeps talking and talking like it is no tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah," sighed McGee. "All I have in my mind now are just movie quotes. God, I'll need a stiff drink after all this blabbering. Maybe if I turn down the volume, we will have a little quiet, huh?"

"Turn it off for ten minutes, Tim. I bet there will be no trouble and we will have a little serenity, as you Americans say."

McGee just flipped the switch to off and took out his laptop. Booting it, he immersed himself in some searching while Ziva took out her phone and began texting.

"Do you think Tony got the job with NCIS for his skills or it was something else, Tim?"

Annoyed, McGee raised his eyes from the display and smirked.

"Don't know, Ziva. He always brags about his undercover work. But I don't think he's overqualified for being SFA. I bet you or me could fill the position without Gibbs noticing."

"But Gibbs always trusts Tony to have his six. And he is always talking about his thinking outside the box, whatever that means. I do not know Tim, but I do remember when he tricked Director David to reveal his hidden plans, right? I just wonder what is behind his masks."

McGee just waved his arms.

"What could be behind the masks? There are masks? Tony makes from time to time lucky guesses and because of them he keeps up his legend. Say, you seem to be interested in him, don't you Ziva?"

"Hey! Do not dare to joke like this. For your information, my boyfriend just proposed, all right?"

"Wow! Congratulations, Ziva! So, have you told Tony yet?"

She threw him one of her Mossad looks and became annoyed.

"What is the matter with you? Why do you always link everything with DiNozzo? I am a mature woman, after all. I do not need to get approval for my actions."

McGee regretted the fact he messed with her.

"Sorry. I just thought you and Tony had some kind of chemistry between the two of you."

"No chemistry, McGee! We are just friends. Good friends!"

* Inside the house *

Her "friend" was fighting for his life. Even if his strength was fading, he still wouldn't let go of his life. Suddenly, a loud crash and a few popping sounds were heard. A hot thick liquid splashed on his face and the pressure around his throat was gone. He fought to open his eyes, wondering what was going on. A small vial was put under his nostrils and a sharp scent made him open his eyes wide. An unfamiliar face was hovering over him; a man, from the Middle East, if he was right, with dark and dangerous eyes. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. A nasty looking pistol with a silencer in his hand proved he was no ordinary man. Turning his head, Tony saw the one who attacked him lying still; a small hole between his eyes told a story about the unfortunate end that met him. He tried to rise, but his saviour kept him down.

"Shalom, Agent DiNozzo. Take it easy; you suffered a blow in the head. You may feel a little nauseous."

He managed to get into a sitting position and his brain kicked in. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and recognized the man standing near him.

"Well-well-well, if it isn't a ghost from the past. Officer Ben Gidon. Came to finish the job started by your friend, Officer Rivkin?"

Malachi Ben Gidon grinned with a cruel smile.

"Rivkin was no friend of mine, DiNozzo. The fool was working against orders just to prove he was someone to be afraid of. No, I came here under direct orders from Director David."

He pulled out the surveillance microphone from beneath DiNozzo's shirt and crushed it under his boot.

"Don't worry, Agent DiNozzo. There is no one on the other end."

DiNozzo growled and tried to hit him.

"You bastard! You killed my partners!"

Blocking his clumsy attempt, Malachi pressed on his collarbone. Painfully.

"I didn't kill any of your partners, Agent DiNozzo. But try and think why neither of them responded to your distress call. Your loyalties are nice, but they're directed at the wrong people. Do you know what they are doing right now, Agent DiNozzo? Agent McGee is browsing the Internet and Agent David is texting her fiancé. They turned the communication off."

Tony felt like being punched in the gut. Even if this seemed like manipulation by Director David, the feeling was still there. Malachi shook his head.

"You don't believe me, Agent DiNozzo. That is good. Trust no one! But we have proof of this. You can either report them and let them have what's in store for them after the IA investigation, then watch your team crumble or…"

Tony didn't like that. After all, they were his friends. But even so, if Malachi was right, what they had done to him was bad. So bad that he didn't comprehend the full blast of it. Wait! Did Malachi suggest there was another way?

"OK Mal, give me the cup of poison. What's the alternative?"

It was the moment Mossad Officer Malachi Ben Gidon was expecting. He smiled and took out a phone from his pocket.

"In its memory there is only one number. Only one man is to respond and, even though you made a fool of him, he grew fond of your abilities. So, what do you think, Agent DiNozzo?"