Author's Note: So, I've heard that a lot of you guys really don't like Assistant Director Granger, and I'm with you. I really don't care much for him myself, so in light of this I decided to write this little diddy-and I know it won't make it too much sense starting off, but just hang in there with me and I promise you it will.
- TINMAN -
Chapter One
Friday, 2:30 a.m.
Taking a red-eye flight from Hawaii to L.A. is anything but fun, and when your mind is racing at a million-plus miles per second the stress is intensified at least twelve-fold. Nevertheless, he's been ordered back to OSP A.S.A.P. effectively cutting his much-needed vacation rather short, and as he checks the time on his wristwatch for like the three millionth time since boarding the aircraft he can't help thinking about his partner.
He hopes that she's okay, and that all of his worries and fears are for nothing. Still he can't quite shake the haunting feeling that something is very wrong, and it is that that has prevented him from even trying to sleep. He'd tried calling her several times just prior to takeoff, but with no good luck. At first he just shook it off, telling himself that he'll see her as soon as he lands at LAX. Now, however, he's not quite so sure anymore.
NCIS, Office of Special Projects 7:45 a.m.
He can only imagine what he must look like, as he strolls through the front entrance at OSP some time after 7:30 in the morning. To be honest though, he doesn't really care. The only thing that seems to matter at present is finding out why his well-earned, week long surf trip was cut so short.
All in all the mission seems pretty quiet, except for the two hushed voices he immediately recognizes as those belonging to his teams' two senior agents—G. Callen and Sam Hanna. He lets his tired feet carry him around the corner, and into the bullpen where the aforementioned duo is quietly discussing their theories for the teams' abrupt call back. As much as he hates breaking up such deeply involved conversations, he really hates being in the dark even more.
He puts on that stupid, lopsided grin they all tease him about, and after letting out a deep breath or two he finally crosses the threshold. "I got it." He says loudly as he steps into view. "You guys all missed me so much, and that's why I got called back." The other two agents watch as Deeks enters the bullpen before them.
Sam chuckles to himself, clearly amused by the shaggy-haired liaison officer. "Keep dreamin' shaggy." The ex-Navy Seal quips with a grin.
"I'm with Sam." Callen remarks. "I think I'd rather have Don King, than you Deeks."
"Oh, ow. I'm wounded." Deeks quips, laying a hand over his heart, as a huge grin crosses his face once again.
After a moment or so things finally get a little more serious though. "So, you guys too hunh?" he asks, as he drops his duffle bag to the floor near his feet. One quick sweep of the area around them tells Deeks that his partner has not arrived yet.
"Yeah." Sam replies, rubbing a hand across his face.
"Us too." Callen adds, folding his arms across his chest. "Red eye?" the team leader asks, noticing the rather haggard appearance of the shaggy-haired man.
Deeks nods with a sigh, as he runs a hand over his weary, blood shot eyes. He says a silent prayer for answers, and that they'll come quickly so that he might at least get a chance at a few hours of good, solid sleep.
"Any idea why we we're called back?" Deeks asks next, looking from Callen to Sam, and then back again. "I mean cause we only get like one week of actual vacation every six months—if even that."
"I agree, but unfortunately we know about as much as you do." Callen says somberly.
"Great." Deeks says with a sigh. "So add it all up, and we got nothing. Yeah, that's very reassuring."
"Tell me about it." Sam remarks.
Deeks' thoughts suddenly shift to his partner who, as far as he can tell, is still missing from their little get together. He pulls out his cell phone again, and checks it for any messages, text messages, or returned calls from the gorgeous brunette he's grown quite fond of during his time on the team. Nothing, just like last time.
"Hey, um you guys heard from Kensi?" Deeks asks, shoving his phone back into his jeans pocket.
"No, why? You haven't?" Callen sounds surprised by this little revelation made by the shaggy-haired liaison officer.
"No, and trust me—it's not for lack of trying." Deeks admits.
"Hmm, that's strange." Callen muses aloud, scratching at his chin.
"Nah, she probably stopped for coffee and donuts and got sidetracked." Deeks muses thoughtfully, imagining the sexy, ninja assassin that is his partner lounging around in her car, with her face covered in donut glaze and coffee stains on her shirt. The thought makes him laugh to himself.
"Hey, Shaggy! Close your mouth, will ya? You're drooling over there." I wonder where she could be?" Sam jokes, with a laugh as he watches the LAPD detective shake himself from the enthralling reverie he was just immersed in.
"Still, its not like her to be late. I wonder where she is?" Callen says questioningly to no one in particular. As he speaks, the sound of footsteps approaching from the direction of Hetty's office suddenly fills the air.
"That makes two of us, Agent Callen." Comes the familiar, gravelly voice of everyone's least favorite person, Assistant Director Owen Granger. He appears around the corner, a file folder in one hand, and a stern expression painted across his face.
"Assistant Director Granger." Callen calmly greets the Assistant Director, all the while eying the mysterious man very cautiously. Sam only nods in acknowledgement of the Assistant Director's presence.
"Detective."
"Granger."
"Where's Hetty?" Callen asks next, unwilling to let Granger make any other move(s) until the tiny operations manager is present. It isn't Granger who answers the question though, as footsteps on the staircase alert the four men to a second presence approaching their position.
"I'm here, Mr. Callen." Comes Hetty's reply as she finally reaches the bottom step on the staircase. "You weren't going to start without me, were you Owen?" she asks as she descends the staircase from Ops.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Hetty." Granger replies, as a smirk appears upon his face.
"You'll forgive me, if I don't take your word for it."
"Burn." Deeks mutters under his breath, as a tiny grin plays at the edges of his mouth.
"I'm going to assume that no one here has heard from Ms. Blye, correct?" Hetty asks, as she finally enters the bullpen only seconds later.
"Bout the size of it." Sam replies.
"Why?" Deeks asks next. A sense of utter dread invades his mind as he stands in place, and every muscle in his body begins to tense up, as if in anticipation of bad news. He prays in silence, multiple times, that his gut instinct is wrong this time, and that his partner is home, safe and sound, and just oblivious to the world—that would explain her absence. Yet, some how, from somewhere deep within himself he just knows that Kensi is at the very center of why they've all been called here.
Assistant Director Granger takes a deep breath, as he eyes each of the three men currently standing before him, and then lets it out again before finally speaking up. He extends his arm forward, and drops the thick, manila file folder onto the nearest desktop. The word CLASSIFIED is scrawled out across the front of the folder in big, red block letters, and just above that is written something else: TINMAN.
"What's that?" Deeks asks, as he reads off the file folder's labels in silence.
"TinMan is the codename used by a long-time foreign spy rumored to be stationed somewhere in this country. Never been seen. Never been heard. The only reason we know about him at all is because he's one of the most arrogant sons-of-bitches in the world." Granger explains. He steals government secrets, right from under our noses, and then turns around and sells them on the black market—and he likes to leave a very distinctive calling card behind in his wake."
"A calling card, really? You mean like the joker in The Dark Knight film?" Deeks says, looking towards Granger.
"Actually, yes, Mr. Deeks." Hetty replies, flipping open the file folder in front of them. Inside the file folder, resting right on top of everything else, is a photocopy of a computer print out that depicts what appears to be the 'Tinman' from Wizard of Oz, but with a sinister red smile painted across his metal face.
"Spooky." Deeks remarks, looking up from the photo.
"Right. Anyway, at the scene of every theft he leaves one of these behind." Granger continues. "Along with some kind of taunting note." He adds a second later.
"This is all interesting stuff, but what does it have to do with Kensi?" Sam asks.
"Everything. As of seventy-two hours ago, Agent Blye is wanted for the crimes of treason and espionage against the United States of America." Granger informs the group, in almost too casual a manner.
"That's ridiculous." Callen remarks almost instantly, his body straightening up slightly and his arms falling to his sides.
Looks of surprise abound following Assistant Director Granger's shocking revelation, and these looks are quickly followed by rebuttals of disbelief. Deeks is the first to object, which in short is no surprise.
"No, it's bullshit is what is." Deeks corrects the team leader.
"As crazy as it sounds," Granger continues. "I have been informed by Director Campbell of the CIA, that they actually have evidence to support their claim."
"Oh, those people." Callen remarks flatly. "Certainly explains a lot." he adds a second later. He is clearly irritated by this particular piece of information.
"Figures." Sam chimes in.
"I don't believe it. There's gotta be some kind of mistake." Deeks says, with a nervous laugh. "The Kensi I know is no traitor—not now, not ever. I mean, if you're expecting me to believe that my partner is moonlighting as some kind of double agent in her spare time—forget it, I ain't buying."
"Tell me Detective, just how well do you know Ms. Blye?" Granger asks, eying the shaggy-haired detective very closely.
"Excuse me? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Deeks replies, as a spark of anger flashes through his Pacific blue eyes. He doesn't for one second like what the Assistant Director is implying in regards to his partner.
He knows Kensi Blye, and regardless of what any one else says nothing will ever, or could ever change the way he feels about her. Most of all, Deeks simply will not tolerate anyone, especially some one like Owen Granger, trying to tarnish her reputation. Especially not without good, solid evidence to the contrary.
"I'd watch that tone, if I were you Detective." Granger's voice is low and threatening when he speaks, but it does very little to ruffle Deeks' feathers.
"Gentlemen." Hetty says calmly, cutting in between the two men. The two men stop, and turn their eyes to the tiny woman. "Now, Mr. Deeks, no one is asking you to believe anything—yet. I have yet to see this evidence they claim to have, and so am inclined towards skepticism myself. However, Ms. Blye still needs our help. According to our sister agency, she's been running from them for nearly three days now, and our priority here must be to find her first."
Deeks nods in agreement with Hetty.
"You're serious about this?" Callen asks, eying the manila file folder and then Granger.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Granger retorts, his face remaining just as stern as before.
Sam's face depicts something along the lines of confusion as he finally raises his eyes to look up at Granger. "Why the three day wait period then?" He asks. "Why are we just hearing about this now?"
"I can answer that as well." Hetty says, cutting off the Assistant Director before he can say anything else on the matter. "Until just a short while ago, Director Campbell believed his agency more than capable of apprehending one person."
"Yeah, accept Kensi's more like an entire army all rolled into one being." Deeks points out proudly. "I'd almost say 'good luck', but it wouldn't do any good."
"Agreed, Mr. Deeks. Still, our kin at the CIA felt that their inability to successfully do the job, warranted the enlistment of our aid." Hetty explains.
"As of right now, NCIS is actively involved in a statewide manhunt for Agent Blye, along with LAPD, the FBI, and possibly the NSA." Granger informs them.
"Shit." Deeks swears under his breath. "Hetty, please tell me we're planning to do something to help Kensi."
Abandoned Warehouse, Harbor District 8:16 a.m.
Sunlight trickles through several small cracks in the wooden beams hung across one of the warehouses' lower-set semi-boarded up windows, and lands upon the face of one slumbering Kensi Blye. She squeezes her eyes shut against the unwanted light, and tries to will her self back to sleep. It's something that she hasn't had much of in the last few days.
The position she's chosen to try and sleep in isn't helping her situation much either, but under the circumstances its really the best she can do. She sits huddled up in a corner near the door, her head resting rather uncomfortably against the hard, concrete wall, and absolutely nothing but the clothes on her back to keep her warm. Perhaps that has something to do with how miserable she's been the last night or two.
Her appearance isn't much to look at either, and even without a mirror to look at her self in she can only imagine how bad she must look—especially if pain is anything to go by. She knows she has a busted lip, and at least one small gash on the left side of her face. The intense throbbing in her head, which has only just begun to subside, is enough of a confirmation that she at least has a bad bump on her head—if not a mild concussion. She's pretty sure she even has a black eye to boot.
It's hard to imagine how everything could have gone so wrong, so quickly. However, it did happen as such, and she hasn't the first clue as to why. The only thing she knows for sure is that she's spent the last two days running from the LAPD, the FBI, CIA, and hell, probably even the NSA for all she knows.
She pulls her SRX into her usual parking spot just outside her apartment. Her Mother is sitting next to her in the passenger's seat. It's late in the afternoon, and she and her Mother are just returning from a quick grocery run. She puts the vehicle in park, unbuckles her seatbelt, and then the two of them climb out. The two women then take a moment to collect the groceries from the back of the SRX before continuing on to Kensi's apartment.
Her thoughts wander once again to her partner. She knows that he decided to spend his week off surfing in Hawaii, and she wonders how he's doing. Undoubtedly, knowing her partner as she does, he's probably having the time of his life.
She isn't paying attention, as they makes their way to her front door, but her finely tuned senses tell her she's being watched. She slowly lifts her head to see a group of men in dark suits basically surrounding her place, and also several other guys that appear to be local LEOs.
One of the men notices her, and begins to approach her. "Ms. Blye?"
"Depends on who's asking." Kensi replies cautiously.
"I need you to come with me." The man in the dark suit says in a very blunt manner.
"What is it you need from my daughter?" Julia asks, worry coloring her face.
Two men appear from off to one side, and together they flank Julia—quickly overtaking her right before Kensi's eyes. "Hey, let her go!" Kensi shouts angrily. "Look, I don't know who you or your friends over there are, but I'm a federal agent—NCIS."
"We know who you are, Ms. Blye. We don't want to hurt you or your Mother, but we need you to come with us. Now." His voice rises a bit, and his tone is much more fiercer than before.
Julia struggles against the grip of the two men firmly holding her in place, but it is to no avail. They are much too strong for her. "Kensi, baby! Run!" Julia shouts to her daughter, sensing that the men are not there just to talk with her daughter.
"Mom?" Kensi begins to back up a little bit, slight worry creeping up inside of her.
"Don't worry about me, honey-just GO!" Julia shouts again.
"Get her!" The man in charge says suddenly. "Don't let her leave!"
Her eyes finally flutter open, only to be shut tight against the blaring rays of morning sunlight falling over her face. She shifts her position slightly until her face is hidden once more within the safety of the shadows. She opens her eyes again, and this time as she blinks away the sleep in them she takes the time to look around at her present surroundings.
Shit. It wasn't just a dream. She thinks to her self. "I really am in hell." She whispers miserably to her self. She tells herself as she sits quietly, trying to suppress the ever-growing headache coming over her, that she needs help. Amidst these thoughts an image of the only other person she truly trusts begins to form in her head. Deeks.
…TBC…
Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter of my newest story. This one is going to be packed with lots of great twists and turns, as well as some really sweet Densi moments. So be sure to tune in for more excitement as it comes your way.
Coming Soon, The Next Thrilling Installment – Chapter 2, Off The Grid