Summer blinked, startled. “Wait, what? I don’t know any Tony Dinozzo.” She shook her head, dismissing it. “Anyway nobody brought me here, I’m here for you.”
A shiver ran up the Israeli’s spine and her jaw locked, out of all the things that could happen it had to be this. Ziva regained her composure, her brow raising slightly, a look of displeasure upon her features, “and why would you be doing such a thing?”
Summer leaned forward and put her hands on the desk, a lock of hair slipping over her shoulder. Very precisely, she put her hands so their fingertips were barely touching. “I need you to get me into Israel.”