"You know, Ziva," Gibbs grunted as he pushed the dead body of a suspected terrorist into bed of an old pick up truck. "Typically the call it a safe house because it's supposed to be safe."
Ziva shot a glare at her old boss before climbing into the cab of the truck. "It was a safe house," she grumbled. "I told you Eschel blew up the one in Paris
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