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The Extraction
publish date:
2026-10-31 15:37:00The SUV tore down the dark road, trees blurring past the windows.
Ziva pressed her forehead against the cold glass, trying to breathe. Trying not to think about the gunshot. The silence that followed.
He saved me. Again. And I let him.
Her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists, nails biting into her palms.
What if he was dead? What if the last thing she'd ever said to him was "I don't know if I can love you back"?
What if she never got the chance
Latest chapter
His Wife or Her Grave The Mother's Secret
Dawn light filtered through the bedroom window, pale and gray.Ziva woke disoriented for a moment, then it all came rushing back.The estate. James. The revelation that had shattered everything she thought she knew about herself.James Keene was her father.No. Not her father. Her mother's captor.She looked around properly for the first time.There were photos of a woman who looked exactly like Ziva.Elise.Her mother.Ziva stood on shaky legs, moved closer to the dresser where several photos sat in ornate frames.Elise at twenty-five, smiling at the camera. The smile didn't reach her eyes.Elise pregnant, hand resting on her swollen belly. Looking somewhere off-camera with an expression Ziva couldn't quite name.Elise holding a baby. The photo was slightly blurred, like it had been taken quickly, without permission.Ziva's hands shook as she picked up that last one.Her mother l
His Wife or Her Grave The Choice
Tyrell was on his knees in the center of the lights.Blood matted his hair. His shirt was torn. Zip ties cut into his wrists behind his back.But his eyes, when they found Ziva in the darkness, were alive. Burning.Telling her to run.James Keene stood behind him, one hand resting on Tyrell's shoulder like they were old friends. In his other hand: a gun. Pressed against the back of Tyrell's head.Ziva's hands tightened on her own gun. Marcus stood beside her, weapon raised, scanning for targets.Six men that she could see. Probably more in the shadows beyond the lights.They were outgunned. Outmanned. Trapped."Let him go." Ziva's voice didn't sound like hers.James smiled. "Of course. After we come to an understanding.""What kind of understanding?""It's simple, really." James pressed the gun harder against Tyrell's skull. Tyrell didn't flinch. "Come with me, and I will let him live."Ziva's heart
His Wife or Her Grave The Extraction
The SUV tore down the dark road, trees blurring past the windows.Ziva pressed her forehead against the cold glass, trying to breathe. Trying not to think about the gunshot. The silence that followed.He saved me. Again. And I let him.Her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists, nails biting into her palms.What if he was dead? What if the last thing she'd ever said to him was "I don't know if I can love you back"?What if she never got the chance to tell him she'd been wrong?"Where are we going?" Her voice came out hoarse.Marcus didn't take his eyes off the road. "Safe house. Two hours north.""We can't leave him.""We're not." Marcus glanced at the rear-view mirror. "I'm tracking his phone. Once we're clear, we regroup and extract him.""What if there's no time?"Marcus' jaw tightened. "Then we make time."Ziva stared at her hands. There was dirt under her nails, scratches on her arms f
His Wife or Her Grave The Standoff
James Keene stood in the driveway like he owned it, hands in his pockets.Six armed men flanked him, weapons trained on Ziva and Tyrell. Timothy hovered at his father's elbow, looking pale and hollow-eyed.Ziva's heart slammed against her ribs. Every muscle screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go. They were surrounded.James took a step forward. "Ziva, darling. It's time to stop this charade and come home."Ziva's voice shook, but she forced it steady. "I don't have a home with you."James's smile didn't waver. "You've always had a home with me. Since the summer you turned sixteen. You just didn't know it yet."Bile rose in Ziva's throat.Tyrell's gun came up, aimed directly at James’s head. "Take one more step and I'll put a bullet in your head."James laughed. "With six men aiming at you? Bold. I admire that about you, Mr. Smart. Really, I do. But we both know how this ends."Timothy stepped for
His Wife or Her Grave Her Best Friend's Betrayal
Ziva stared out the upstairs window, heart hammering against her ribs. Judy was walking up the driveway.Her best friend since high school. The girl who'd taught her how to do winged eyeliner, held her hair back when she was drunk for the first time.Judy looked disheveled. Hair falling out of its ponytail. Mascara smudged. She kept looking over her shoulder, sharp and restless.But she was alone."Don't go down there." Tyrell's voice came from behind her.Ziva turned. He was standing in the doorway, gun in hand."She's my best friend.""She's been working with James Keene."The words didn't make sense. Her brain rejected them. "What?"Tyrell pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, held it out to her.Bank statements. Wire transfers from an account registered to James Keene to Judith Alvarez. Multiple payments over two years. The last one four days ago. Fifty thousand dollars.Below that, emails. Short. Clinical.Subject at coffee shop on 5th. Met with male, mid-20s. Appe
His Wife or Her Grave The First Rule
The sunlight hurt.Ziva woke to it streaming through dusty windows. For one blissful moment, her mind was blank. Empty. Safe. Then memory crashed back like cold water.James Keene. Timothy's father. Ten years of surveillance. The man from Maine who'd groomed her at sixteen, watched her grow up, sent his son to reel her in like a fish he'd been baiting all along.It was always a trap.Ziva lay still, staring at water-stained plaster above her head. The bedroom was small. Sparse. A twin bed with sheets that smelled like mothballs. Furniture covered in white sheets like ghosts.Tyrell's childhood home.She sat up slowly. Her body ached, muscles sore from tension she'd been carrying for days. How many days had it been since the auction? Three? Four? Time had become a blur of terror and exhaustion.She was still wearing Tyrell's clothes. The sweatpants. The t-shirt that hung off one shoulder.The house was quiet.What if Tyrell had left? What if she was alone here, abandoned in this Gothic
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