Inspired by a prompt from Annajadekin - "a story where Kensi and Ziva are sisters." Of course, I couldn't run with that because I like to keep things fairly canon and I couldn't find way to make that work... But then I thought what if they did have something in common? Then this was idea was born.
Henrietta Lange had had a long, exhausting day. Her team was in the middle of a complex case, which seemed to allow no reprieve. She had sent them all home for a few hours of sleep before they were due back in the morning to continue following leads. Experience told her that Eric and Nell would still be in ops, running every possible lead and even some impossible ones. Callen would be at home, dismantling some poor electronic device for the thousandth time. Sam would be curled up in bed with his wife, staring at the ceiling as he talked through as much of the case as he was permitted. Kensi and Deeks would have returned to his place, although neither would admit they had gone home together. They were likely the only ones who would have gone straight to sleep as ordered.
And here she was, defying her own orders, as she sat at her massive oak desk. She had chosen to come home to Dovecote this evening. It was her favourite of her abodes, and one where she felt truly secure. Her staff had gone home except for her most trusted security. As she shuffled through papers, she sighed. Maybe she should have gone straight to bed after having a cup of tea, but instead she felt drawn to her office. It was only when she looked up to clear her head that she noticed something was out of place. There was an envelope on the table by the door. She mentally chided herself for missing it when she had entered, but knew the exhaustion was to blame. No excuses, though, oversight like this could get someone killed.
She went to retrieve the envelope, and an uneasy feeling came over her. The writing on the front was unfamiliar - and it was addressed to Hippolyta.
"Bugger." Was the only word she uttered as she retrieved a pair of gloves before picking up the envelope. That code word had instantly made her blood run cold and told her more than she wanted to know. It was a project she had hoped would never need to come to light, and would have devastating effects on not only her team, but many other elite teams across a collection of agencies. It was the last thing she needed in the midst of an already chaotic case.
Once the gloves were on, she carefully used her letter opener to slice it open and pour the contents onto an evidence bag she had placed on her desk. A letter and several photographs slid out, and once again she cursed.
You thought you could keep them safe, but you were wrong. The end of your race is near. Who will fall next?
The first photograph showed a woman beaten and bloodied beyond recognition. The second, torched remains of what Hetty knew was another female agent. The third, however, chilled her to the bone. It was a picture taken many years ago, at a training camp. Pictured were a group of young girls with their arms around each other, grinning at the camera after they had won their inter-camp Olympics. Hetty knew each and every one of them would soon be targets.
The final image was the one that brought tears to her eyes, though. It was a picture of a much younger Henrietta Lange, grinning from ear to ear as she held an infant girl. Hetty could still remember the day the picture was taken, and the incredible feeling of pride and joy she felt. Nothing before or since had compared to that feeling, and no pain in her life has been greater than when she lost the pictured child several years later. The guilt behind it all was her constant companion, and it seemed now someone had decided it was time for her to pay.
Quickly, she placed the first two images and the letter into the evidence bag to be analysed. The third and fourth images she placed in a separate bag, which she hid deep in a desk drawer. Until she had spoken with her team, and the others at risk, the group image needed to remain hidden, and she had no intention of ever allowing anyone to see the one of her. She then pulled out her laptop and began to arrange for safe houses across the globe for those she knew were in danger. None of them would go willingly, but she wasn't going to give them a choice. They had no idea what they would be facing.
I don't often beg for reviews or feedback but in this case I might just a little. I hadn't intended to publish this until I had wrapped up a few of my other stories but I'm struggling to write anything lately and I'm hoping a change of pace - and maybe some reviews - will help me get back into it.
I'm still extremely busy (two weddings to plan still, and between my husband and I we're working SIX jobs and raising our son without aid of family or babysitters, plus chronic health issues...) but writing is definitely a great way to wind down.
I would love to know if this story intrigues you. I expect it will end up being fairly long and twisted, with a strong medical element and a fabricated history for Hetty. Both DC and LA characters will appear, possibly with others from the same universe.