Chapter 1 -

It had to be one of the weirdest undercover operations they'd ever experienced, Sam thought morosely. Thanks to a series of tips from a trusted source, well, a source trusted by Hetty, the entire team suddenly found themselves undercover in various locations in extreme northern corner of California. The town was in a mountainous area, and quite isolated. According to reputation, not to mention everyone he had talked to since he'd been here, when winter hit, the area might be cut off from the outside world for days if not weeks at a time.

The town itself was small. There was a university based in the town, which was the largest employer in the town. The local school district was a close second. While technically a part of California, the town had a reputation for being much more conservative than the rest of the state, in every possible way. The changing social climate caused by mandates from the state capital was causing a sense of resentment throughout the town. The university itself was more liberal, but not by much, still being quite conservative.

Major influences in the town were the numerous churches scattered throughout the streets. Sam thought that the last time he had seen so many churches in such close proximity to each other he had been stationed in Texas. They all seemed to be various denominations of Protestantism, strangely enough, and he wasn't entirely sure how they were able to tell them apart, but he had learned in his first couple of days here not to mention that to anyone. The citizens, especially the townies, were passionately devoted to their various religions; each convinced that their individual religion was the only true one in existence.

While the town had good ratings in many quality of life indicators, including crime rates and unemployment, there was a somewhat oppressive social atmosphere. People had been known to compare it to "Stepford". This fact, when combined with the isolation of both the campus and the town resulted in the university having personnel problems. While some people came specifically for the 1950ish atmosphere, there always seemed to be job openings on campus. Many people used the University for a First Job out of college. Once their resume had been augmented they moved on to something better, or at least something elsewhere.

Hetty's unknown correspondent had intimated that some of the local people were becoming very frustrated with the social and political mandates coming out of the state capitol in Sacramento. They were feeling like "their" community was being hijacked by bleeding heart liberals. While this was nothing unusual, Hetty's reliable source thought that these particular groups were organizing, and getting ready to make an effort to take their community back under their control. Sam wasn't sure how they would do this. He was also unclear on how they thought they could keep that control once they committed what was effectively treason. However, the minds of the plotters did not seem to be overly burdened by such worries. They seemed to think that once they broke the ice, the vast majority of the population, after being reminded of their true roots, would arise in united support for their group and put an end to gay marriage, affirmative action, and the lack of prayer in public schools.

Since the group was spread throughout the community, the OSP team was spread out as well. The university had had many openings, and Hetty, through her unspeakable connections, had even secured a couple of jobs within the town itself. Sam had taken a position with the university, in the Religious Studies Department, and was teaching three sections of the university's mandatory Comparative Religion class. He was out as a Muslim, which caused suspicion among most of the populace. He had actually become a bit paranoid about even doing his shopping in town.

Kensi had become a valued member of the Criminal Justice Department, and was teaching a couple of different classes on Forensic Science; including a graduate level seminar that had already attracted attention from the state crime lab, which was sending one of their top scientists to give a guest lecture. With her strong background in Forensic Science, she was doing very well in her new career.

Since it was never a good idea to separate Kensi and her partner, they were posing as a married couple, living in town. Deeks had ended up playing the faculty spouse with a surprising amount of aplomb, and had just gotten a job as a library assistant in the town's small public library. Kensi had had a field day making sexy librarian jokes, but with one of them working at the university, and the other in the center of the town, plus having every excuse in the world for seeing each other every day, and in private at that, they were going to be invaluable in keeping track of what was going on in both sides of the community.

Callen, on the other hand, was not nearly as happy, having found a job in the town's only grocery store, starting as a stock boy, but now having quickly moved up to a management position. The rest of the supermarket staff were led to believe that he was somehow related to the owner. He wasn't, not that he knew anyway, but he was learning a lot about the produce business, and complaining endlessly about the poor work ethic of the latest generation. At least he was the few times Sam had been able to talk with him. Unlike Kensi and Deeks, they didn't have a cover that leant itself to meeting with each other very often. They had all been warned that this was an extremely long term undercover, and were trying to find ways to get in contact with each other as well as the suspects.

The library was always a good meeting area, it was in the center of town, and attracted most of the population at one time or another. Sam had developed a taste for literary fiction, making sure to keep up with all the new best sellers. Callen, on the other hand, was working his way through the library's DVD collection. The library had a large selection of BBC crime dramas, and he was working his way through Midsommer Murders.

The grocery store where Callen worked was also a good spot for the crew to 'accidentally' run into each other. Sam had to talk to him about requesting special halal ingredients, and Deeks was cultivating a reputation as a 'Foodie', and always seemed to be in search of some bizarre ingredient Callen's store didn't normally carry.

Since the community was so religious, none of the members of the team had wasted any time finding churches to attend. Kensi and Deeks decided on a rather liberal Methodist church that had the reputation of being welcoming and accepting of outsiders. Because of its welcoming atmosphere, many of the people affiliated with the University attended this particular church.

Since there was not a mosque in town, Sam was attending weekly meetings of the Muslim student association that met at the University. They met weekly for in-depth studies of the Koran, and Sam found that with his knowledge of Arabic and his education he easily earned the respect of the Muslim students at the university. These students were a mixture of African Americans, and a few young immigrants from various areas of the Middle East and Asia.

Callen had begun attending, after being heavily courted by its members, a very conservative small church that was run by a charismatic working man. It had a reputation of being slightly (or not so slightly) fanatical and met three times a week. Most of the people in the church homeschooled their children, under orders from their reverend. He was concerned about the "liberal, godless" atmospheres in the public schools, and thought that having the children memorize the Bible was enough of an education. The twice weekly meetings were conducted at the restaurant he ran during the week. It featured a large room that may have been intended for parties, but was almost exclusively used for church meetings, prayer rallies, and home school group sessions.

The group they were targeting stood for returning America to a state they described as "True America". They described themselves as patriotic Americans, who were trying to undo the damage that generations of liberals had caused. They had problems with what they called the homosexual agenda, or 'rainbow jihad', which they felt was forcing its way into society, as well as the proponents of climate change, to give only two widely diverse examples. Apparently, global warming was a leftist conspiracy to limit the growth of business, along with EPA pollution guidelines, and restrictions on the disposal methods for various hazardous wastes. Callen felt that the members of his new church family would be good candidates for membership in this group. They shared many of the viewpoints of the group, but so did many other members of the community.

So far the undercover had stretched out to cover most of the fall semester. The team had moved in at varying times in the first week of August, or last in July, and Sam's students had just finished their mid-terms.

At first, not knowing which of the various groups in town might have nefarious plans, the team had spent a bit of time flailing around, trying to determine where their focus should be. They had originally considered the Muslim student group, but had ruled them out after the first couple of weeks. A loner student in one of Kensi's classes who had hinted darkly about 'big plans' had been revealed as a young man trying too hard to impress people. Finally they had begun to narrow their focus to the more radical members of Callen's new church home.

Meanwhile, at the public library, Marty Deeks was dealing with a recalcitrant person who wanted to use the library's public use computers. Their desire was being thwarted by a fatal combination of their own actions and the library's policies, not to mention the restrictions placed upon the library by the town's city council.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but, to use our computers, you need to have a library card!" he exclaimed, trying to remain upbeat. "All I'm going to need to get you one is a picture ID, and something that shows you live in this county!"

"What," the patron, or rather proto patron, exclaimed with a certain amount of, in Deek's opinion, unnecessary hostility, "I don't have any ID on me! The library in the next city over doesn't require ID just to use their computers!"

Marty had already heard this several times. "Well, we are not really connected to that library, so we have different rules," he answered smoothly.

"You're both libraries, ain't you?" the patron countered. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! I've lived in this town for sixteen years! I live so close I can walk over here, in fact, I JUST walked over here to get this damn library card and get on a computer and now you're telling me that I can't even get it! You hate me don't you? Librarians are supposed to help people and you are refusing to help me!"

His supervisor happened to be passing by on one of her mysterious missions. Marty turned to her in a silent appeal, hoping she would stop and help him out of his conundrum. She paused briefly behind the circulation desk and put on a professional smile before turning to the patron. "Ma'am is there something I can help with?" she asked.

"Yes, you can tell this idiot to put me on a computer!" the patron exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. "I can't believe that he's asking for a library card! I use the library at the next town over all the time and they never ask for a card! Why do you have to hire idiots?"

"Well, the library in the next town over does not ask for ID to use their computers," his supervisor allowed. "But we are run by the city council of our town, and they require us to have a positive ID on each person who uses our computers. We do have a onetime courtesy guest pass that can get you on today . . ."

Marty winced, he hoped internally only. He'd already tried this tack with this particular person.

"That's what I'm saying," the rude patron exclaimed, "Give me the guest pass!"

"Okay," his supervisor said, reaching for the stack of guest passes, "I just need a picture ID to let you have this."

"That's the whole point!" the patron exploded. "I don't have any fucking ID, how many times do I have to explain this? Are all of you so damn stupid you don't get it?"

"Ma'am," the supervisor said, "We have a lot of children in our library, so I'm going to have to ask you to moderate your language."

This did not go over well with the patron at all. "What the fuck do you mean, moderate my language? I can talk any fucking way I want to. Now give me the motherfucking guest pass and get the fuck out of my way!"

Marty's supervisor did not even flinch. "I cannot give out a guest pass without a picture ID. If you don't have a picture ID, there is no way I can possibly let you on one of our computers. And if you continue to use profanity, I will have to call the police and have you removed from the library."

Marty silently edged closer to the phone, in order to be in readiness when the patron finally snapped and came over the counter. He was trying to decide if it would be better for him to just take the patron down now when Catherine caught his eye and nodded to the small line forming behind the angry patron.

Marty edged over to the other circulation computer and gestured to the next person in line. Fortunately it was an older lady he already recognized, who came in about three times a week for books. He checked out the latest batch to her, printed out her receipt, and helped the man standing behind her get on the waiting list for James Patterson's new book, finishing out the line by checking out a huge stack of picture books for a young mother and her toddlers. He turned after this burst of activity to find that his supervisor was still being yelled at.

She made eye contact. "Marty, could you check the public computers and see if anyone needs to be called?" He nodded and went to the reference desk, checking the time management software for the ten or so public computers the library provided for public use. They were mostly okay, and for once there was not a waiting list of people trying to get on them. Maybe some people had been discouraged by the crazy woman still yelling at his supervisor at the circulation desk. In fact, as he glanced towards the doors entering the library he observed a couple walk in, pause to observe the women yelling obscenities at the librarian, and turn to walk out.

Once the public computers were back in good working order, he noticed that he had another line at the circulation desk. He groaned and went to take care of that line, sneakily checking the schedule to see who was going to relieve him at the desk. He wanted to know who to look out for. He also checked the time, and noticed that the id-less patron wannabee had been yelling at his supervisor for twenty minutes, and he still had an hour before someone would come and relieve him.

Finally the patron left, still cursing at his supervisor, but without the computer access she had so ardently desired. His supervisor helped him finish out the small line that had built up, answered the questions of the one person who had called on the telephone, and then turned to him and rolled her eyes.

"I offered her the guest pass," he told her, "but she had no ID, and it all went downhill from there."

"I know," she replied, "She was one of those people who think that if she throws a huge hissy fit she'll get her way. I really hate dealing with people like that."

"Do we get a lot of them here?" Deeks enquired.

"Not as many as in a big city library," she answered. "But public libraries, no matter where they are, attract their own special brand of crazy."

He was to remember that statement later as one of the truest he'd ever heard.