"Great job, everyone, on a successful operation." Hetty crisply congratulated them all as she headed out of the OSP Center. "Even though we were short one agent."
Sam cracked a smile, looked sideways at Callen and commented, "Without Deeks, it felt like a vacation; no dumb jokes or stupid card tricks."
Kensi glared at him, having missed her partner, Marty Deeks, during that final firefight. She could always count on him to have her back. He had been gone for over two months on an LAPD undercover assignment and she had no idea when he would be back.
Turning to his partner, Callen asked, "You buying dinner tonight, Sam? I think you owe me one after I saved your ass today."
Sam was about to remind Callen how many times he had saved his ass, when Kensi's phone rang. She smiled as she saw the caller ID. "Speaking of Deeks, looks like he's back from assignment," she called out brightly.
Callen and Sam headed toward the door, still arguing about who owed who dinner, but stopped as they heard the urgency in Kensi's voice as she asked Deeks to speak up and then shouted "Deeks!" into the phone.
She could barely hear him as he struggled to get words out. "Kensi...I...need...I need help...please hurry...Oh, God...I don't...think I... I can't...hold on...much longer." The words came out disjointed and full of pain.
When the line went dead and she could no longer hear his labored breathing, worry clouded her face. "Deeks is in trouble! Eric, play that back so everyone can hear."
Instantly, Deeks' tortured words filled the room and everyone listened silently, trying to comprehend what had gone so horribly wrong. They barely recognized his voice, and could sense the effort it was taking just for him to speak. They were so used to Deeks constantly talking, always upbeat, full of jokes and one liners, and being a general smart ass, that the man they were now hearing didn't sound like the same person.
Callen took control, "Find him, Eric." knowing the tech wizard would be able to locate Deeks. Nell hurried to find Hetty, who would, and could, move mountains to save one of her agents, and Deeks, for some reason, was special to her. But, they had to move fast if they were to save his life, because they all knew from the agony in his voice, that he was badly hurt and that time was critical.
...
They drove through the rainy night without speaking, waiting for more detailed directions that would take them to where their wounded partner lay, all three hoping they wouldn't be too late.
It was taking all of Kensi's well-known self-control to keep the tears at bay. She didn't want to think about Deeks in all that pain, she just wanted to get to him, and save him. She couldn't imagine being without him and that thought was new for her.
She had always thought of herself as completely self-reliant, ever since her father died when she was a teenager. She could keep up with, and usually beat the guys at everything, and never felt she needed anyone, especially on her job. But, Deeks had gradually won her over, softening her edges with his easy going approach to life, and making her realize that she didn't have to try so hard, and do everything herself, if she would just trust him a little. He was the perfect partner for her, backing her up when they were under fire, even saving her life a few times, and making her laugh as they traded barbed comments throughout the workday.
Her feelings for her partner had recently begun to change and were still a little confusing to her. She felt comfortable with Deeks and had been happy with their partnership until she had watched him kiss a former lover in the interrogation room during a case. Outwardly she had stayed in control, but her emotional response had surprised her. She felt jealous. After that day, she became possessive of Deeks, even though she had no right to be. She felt herself hungering for a deeper, more personal relationship with him, though she wasn't sure he felt the same. Now, as they raced to save him, she was heartsick to think she might never get the chance to tell him how much she cared for him.
The fear that he may be dying, alone, somewhere in the city, gave her a sudden chill and she wrapped her arms tightly around her shoulders and asked Sam to drive faster.
Sam was wrestling with his own feelings as he gunned the car forward through the wet streets. From the moment he met Deeks, the tall, scruffy blond had rubbed him the wrong way. Sam believed him to be a lightweight, and Deeks did nothing to dispel that notion with his funny quips and constant banter. He wasn't serious enough for Sam, a Navy SEAL, and the team was engaged in a very serious business. At first, Sam had watched him closely because he was very fond of Kensi, and wanted to make sure Deeks, as her new partner, could protect her if she needed it. But, Deeks had proven himself in the field. He was an excellent shot, and when bullets began to fly and lives were on the line, Deeks became quite serious and very good at his job. It took a while before Sam realized that Deeks' outward demeanor might not be the real Deeks. Sam and Callen had talked about it and had come to suspect that maybe the undercover cop's lighthearted personality was just another one of his many aliases. Maybe playing the fool was his way of keeping everyone off guard and at ease, until he was sure he could trust them. But, when they had watched Deeks' transformation into Max Gentry, the dark alias even Deeks didn't like, they had begun to wonder who this man really was.
When Sam heard Deeks' voice tonight, he felt his heart drop into his stomach, and anger had quickly followed. All of his earlier impressions were pushed aside, because Deeks was one of them now, he was in trouble and he needed them. Sam was surprised by how protective he felt of the younger man at that moment and how much he wanted to find out who had hurt him and make them pay.
Early memories of Deeks flitted through Callen's mind too, as he checked his gun. His first read on Deeks hadn't been much different than Sam's, although he did cut Deeks more slack than Sam. He knew Hetty wouldn't bring someone onto the team if she hadn't studied him and made an astute assessment of his qualities and abilities. In the beginning, Callen couldn't quite figure out what it was about Deeks that made Hetty so sure he had the potential to be a federal agent and not just the LAPD liaison officer he was now. He seemed so laid back and easygoing, a surfer- dude type who seemed too shallow to be counted on for tough assignments. But Callen never liked first impressions. They were unreliable, especially when it came to Deeks. He had been an undercover cop for a long time, and a good one, putting away a lot of "bad guys", as Deeks liked to call them. And he did not hesitate to put himself at risk to save Kensi's life when they were in the field. And that counted in his favor, big time, with Callen, because it was one less thing he had to worry about.
Now Callen had a thousand thoughts pulsing through his brain. As the team leader, he was the one who explored all the possibilities, calculated all possible scenarios, and sifted through plots and counter plots that might be part of any problem they faced. But tonight, something was clouding that thought process, and he wasn't used to that. Emotion. It was unfamiliar to him on an operation, to feel so emotional. The anger he was familiar with, but the other emotions he was now feeling, shook him. He was always in control, but tonight he felt it slipping away from him, and he didn't like it. He had always had a problem connecting with people. His childhood, spent in thirty-seven foster homes, had taken its toll. The people he cared deeply about made up a very small group, and included Hetty, Sam, and Kensi. Tonight, after he had listened to that harrowing phone call, he realized that Deeks had become a member of that small inner circle.
It had caught him unawares, the sudden flow of fear that had sliced through his gut when he heard Deeks' call for help. Fear that he wouldn't be able to get to him in time. Fear that he could lose someone he now, inexplicably, cared about. Callen wasn't afraid of anything, but racing through the cold night, fear was crowding out everything else, and he didn't like that at all.
The sound of Callen's phone drew them out of their reverie. The detailed directions from Eric led them to a desolate area surrounded by a broken chain link fence, in an industrial part of the city that had seen better times. The few warehouses on the lot appeared to be abandoned. They walked through the open gate, their flashlight beams flicking over the broken ground, revealing cracked concrete filled with weeds and broken glass. Burned out cars and discarded packing crates cast harsh shadows as they passed by, searching desperately for their fallen partner amid the debris.
It was an ugly place to die.
"Eric, where is he?", Callen questioned, his voice echoing across the eerie landscape. They had spread out, shouting his name, but the only sound they heard was the steady beat of the rain from the passing storm.
"He should be right in front of you, Callen", Eric replied in an agitated voice.
But all Callen could see was garbage blown by the gusting wind.
"HERE!" Sam yelled.
They rushed to where Sam stood, looking down on what seemed like just another piece of trash. Deeks lay face down on the muddy ground, surrounded by broken bottles and scraps of old tires. He was clutching the phone that had been his only lifeline. As their flashlights illuminated his body, they gasped at the damage that had been done to their once vibrant friend. Kensi's shocked cry startled Callen, his own voice choked silent in anger.
They knelt around him. Sam slowly took hold of his shoulders and lifted him gently, afraid to move him too quickly and hurt him even more. He could see in the dim light that Deeks had been shot in the back. Sam tensed as he slowly turned him over revealing a savagely beaten face that was almost unrecognizable. His hair was matted with blood and they knew someone had brutally pistol-whipped him. His shirt was ripped and torn and soaked with blood from stab wounds just above his belt, and as Sam cradled him in his arms, he could feel broken ribs move under his hand.
Kensi trembled as she tried to clean some of the mud from his face, gently brushing the hair from his eyes. Angry tears, once held in check, now flowed freely down her cheeks, mixing with the cold rain.
The fear that had filled Callen earlier, now sharpened as he reached over to feel for a pulse.
Marty Deeks was still alive.
That small pulse beat was all Callen needed to send him into high gear.
"Eric, he's alive," Callen shouted into the phone. "Where's that ambulance?"
"It's two minutes out." Eric responded, elation coloring his voice.
The rain began to lessen as they waited, kneeling on the cold, wet ground, quietly willing their wounded partner to keep fighting for his life. Then they heard a low moan as Deeks moved in Sam's arms, and struggled to speak.
"No...cops," Deeks whispered, "No cops", his voice nearly drowned out by the softly falling rain.
They all looked at one another in astonishment. That was the last thing they expected to hear from the proud LAPD detective. What had happened tonight, and what kind of assignment had Deeks been on that would cause him to pull away from the very people he worked with? Only one thought crossed their minds. Someone at LAPD had betrayed him.
...
It seemed to take forever to reach the hospital. The tension was palpable as they closely followed the screaming ambulance into the emergency bay. The paramedics rushed Deeks into the ER, the team right on their heels. Callen stopped abruptly when he saw Hetty standing resolutely by the entrance with Nell. He had never seen Hetty so distraught.
"Tell me how bad it is, Mr. Callen," she ordered, her voice low and filled with distress and anger. She was still in control, but what had happened to Deeks, and the thought of losing him, had shaken her deeply. She told Nell to go inside; possibly to protect the young analyst from the horrific details that Callen was about to share.
"He's in terrible shape, Hetty," Callen said quietly. He gave her a detailed description of the wounds Deeks had suffered, and a calculated guess about the ones they couldn't see and what he thought had caused each injury. He knew she needed to know, now, even before they heard from the doctors, that there was a good chance Deeks wouldn't live through the night.
Unlike the others, Hetty had made an instant connection with "Mr. Deeks". Over time, that connection had grown into fondness. She had known about him for some time, following his career and accomplishments as an undercover cop for the LAPD. She was always on the lookout for new agents, and when Kensi lost her last partner, she began to examine Mr. Deeks' record and background more closely to see if he might fit in with Callen's team and be the partner that Kensi needed.
She knew the team was tight knit, so the person trying to fit in would have to be easy going but confident, which Deeks certainly seemed to be. Hetty knew from her research into his abusive childhood that the lightheartedness he projected covered up darker depths in his personality. But, somehow, the eleven-year-old boy who had been forced to shoot his own drunken father to protect himself and his mother had come out of his childhood optimistic about life. He hid the dark undercurrents well, and created in himself the person he wanted to be, a good man and the exact opposite of his father. Hetty admired him for that.
As she followed Callen into the ER, she got on the phone to the head of the hospital, and by the time she was done with him, she knew Deeks would get the best medical treatment the hospital had to offer. She wanted him to live, and she would move heaven and earth and hospital administrators, to make sure he did.
...
Kensi stood watching as a young intern gently washed the grime from her partner's face, revealing ugly wounds and bruises that became vivid in the harsh light. The gurney became soaked in his blood, and he looked pale and lifeless. As the doctors and nurses worked feverishly to stop the bleeding and stabilize their badly wounded patient, Kensi felt helpless and a deep sadness was threatening to overwhelm her. Everything and everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion.
Her only source of comfort was the constant beeping of the heart monitor that told her Marty was still alive.
She jumped as Sam touched her shoulder. "He's tougher than he looks, you know," he said firmly.
"I know," she replied wearily, both recalling how he had rushed down a flight of hospital stairs to save her from Chechen kidnappers, after being shot the same morning, ripping out his stitches along the way.
Callen and Hetty joined them, each one making a point to touch Kensi and reassure her that she was not alone. They all knew this was hitting her hard. They were aware that the relationship between her and her partner was becoming something deeper, and they wanted her to know they were there for her if the unspeakable happened.
Suddenly, the sound of the heart monitor changed from a regular beep to a single, unbroken tone. Deeks' heart had stopped beating.
Kensi thought hers would too. Sam tightened his grip on her shoulders as she cried out. They all stood together watching the frantic drama unfolding in front of them, as the doctors fought desperately to bring Deeks back to life.
Hetty felt like she was in a state of suspended animation, afraid to breathe, afraid to move. She sensed the anguish in those around her, tension coming off Callen in waves, Kensi near collapse, Sam grim, but strong, a look of deep sorrow on his face.
The medical team began CPR immediately, shouting for a crash cart, each minute critical. The controlled chaos intensified as the doctor yelled, "Clear!" Deeks' body jerked on the table as jolts of electricity coursed through his chest, once, and then again, and then again.
At first they weren't sure they had heard it. "Listen!" Sam demanded. Then the insistent, regular beep of the heart monitor began again and it gave them the hope they needed and signaled a flood of relief and joy.
Kensi could almost hear Deeks' voice saying, "Did you miss me?"
The medical team pushed past them, rushing Deeks to surgery.
...
Kensi huddled in a chair in a far corner of the waiting room, her arms clutching her knees to her chest, her eyes closed. Sam had gone outside for some air. He couldn't stand watching Callen pace anymore, it agitated him. Hetty was on the phone again, trying to get the Chief of Police on the line to find out what Deeks' assignment had been. All of them doing whatever they could to cope with the waiting.
Nell came in to let Hetty know she had finished the backstopping on Deeks' new alias, one the LAPD would not know, and that she had checked him into the hospital as Andrew Owens, listing Hetty as his next of kin.
A weary looking surgeon entered the room, with Sam trailing behind. It had been six hours since Deeks had gone into surgery and they were all anxious for news.
They stood as one when the surgeon called out, "Hetty Lange?"
They all moved forward together, confusing the man, until Hetty separated herself from the rest of the team.
"We want to know how he is," Hetty said, "But we also want explicit details on Mr. Owens' wounds. We need to know what happened to him in order to find out why and who did this to him. Do I make myself clear, doctor?" Hetty's tough demeanor surprised the tired doctor. Who were these people, he wondered, and just who was his patient.
He proceeded to give them as much information as he could. Even he had been shocked by the violence done to his patient. Frankly, he was amazed the young man had survived at all.
"My name is Dr. Enriquez and I headed up the surgical team that worked on your friend," the doctor began slowly, the fatigue evident in his voice.
"He made it through surgery and is now in the ICU, listed in critical condition. Things didn't go as smoothly as I would have liked. We lost him on the table, once, but were able to resuscitate him." That information did nothing to calm the fears of the group standing before him.
"His injuries are significant. He had lost a lot of blood and was in deep shock when he got to the OR," the doctor said in a monotone, betraying his exhaustion. But, his voice rose as he went over the details.
"The bullet entered his upper back just to the left of his spine, coming to rest near his heart. It was a large caliber and did a lot of damage, but luckily the heart was not involved. The two stab wounds he suffered were severe. One penetrated his left kidney and the other his stomach. We were able to repair both. The weapon used was very sharp and very long," he said, hoping that information would help in their investigation.
"He also has several broken ribs, and a CT scan showed he suffered a linear skull fracture. In addition, he has multiple contusions to his face and head. Whoever did this was brutal." Then he paused to let all the information sink in and looked up to see raw anger on the faces of the two men.
"I'm afraid you can't visit him just yet," he continued. "The next twenty-four hours are critical. We've got him heavily sedated right now and we're also monitoring him closely for any infection that might develop from all the dirt that was around the wounds. You can see him through the windows in ICU if you like."
As he started to go, the doctor paused and turned back to say, "Your friend is a fighter, or he wouldn't be alive right now. Take solace in that."
Then he walked away, leaving them all stunned and silent.
"Bastards!" Callen said softly, but with so much venom in his voice that Sam took hold of his arm, afraid he was going to punch something.
Not that Sam would have blamed him. He wanted to have his hands around the neck of whoever had done this and choke the life out of him. He remembered how long it had taken him to wash Deeks' blood off his hands and clothes.
But first they had to discover who the "bastards" were. And when they did they would make them suffer as much as Deeks was suffering now. He and Callen would see to that. The vicious animals that did this better hope Kensi didn't get to them first, because Sam had seen her targets after shooting practice, and he knew what she would be aiming for.
"He's still alive," Kensi said, a small, hopeful smile easing the tension in her face. Then her face darkened and her eyes flashed. "When we find who did this, I want the first shot." The anger heating her words.
"Kensi, you stay here and watch over Mr. Deeks," Hetty said gently, knowing that Kensi would not be of much use back at OSP in the state she was in, although she would never say that to her. Kensi would protect her partner with her life, and Hetty needed to know someone was here, keeping watch.
Marty Deeks had been betrayed by one of his own, and they intended to find out who that was. Although it was well past midnight, the team headed back to OSP Center.
...
Kensi now stood alone in the dimly lit, and slightly chilled hall outside the ICU, a glass window separating her from the man who affectionately called her "Fern". He had given her that stupid name on their first undercover operation together, and she had hated it. Now, she longed to hear him say it one more time.
She hardly recognized him. His face was swollen, marked by ugly stitches and covered in dark bruises. He was swathed in warming blankets and a bandage encircled his head, almost obscuring his tousled blond hair and covering most of his left eye. Tubes ran everywhere and machines flashed numbers in the low light of the room.
She longed just to touch him, to comfort him, to let him know she was there. But, all she could do was let her memories wash over her. Now, they were her only connection to him and her only comfort. They flitted through her mind, reminding her of the good times and the humor that came so naturally to Marty Deeks.
She thought back to the Stan King case when he stopped a woman they wanted to question by pretending she had hit him with her car. Then he made her believe she had just ruined his professional soccer career and cost him all of his endorsements. That case had been tough on Kensi, but now, the memory that came to mind was laughing at Deeks' story and being amazed by his ability to instantly become someone else, if only for a few minutes.
She also recalled his kindness the night the case was over, when he came to her door with beer and a smoothie, to make sure she was OK. That had surprised her.
She smiled at the recollection of his fear of a snake "pouncing" on him in the desert, and the time during a stand-off with foreign agents, when he not only yelled "LAPD!" but "M-O-U-S-E." Only Deeks would have done that. It was one of the things she loved about him, that offbeat humor that lightened difficult situations.
One memory suddenly flashed through her mind, causing her to shudder. They had been at the morgue on a case and began discussing whether they wanted to be cremated or buried. Deeks told her he was going to opt for cryogenic suspension, and she had teased him about it. Now, that conversation haunted her and she turned away from the ICU and went in search of coffee and junk food, anything that would distract her from thinking about the unthinkable.
...
"Eric, see what you can get off this." Callen ordered back at OSP, as he handed over Deeks' cell phone. "I want to know who he's been talking to and when."
Quickly, Eric saw that the only name on speed dial was "Fern"; the alias Deeks had given Kensi. Several of the other numbers had been called multiple times so he started with them. Most calls went to a man named Anton Spivak, who Nell quickly discovered was a Ukrainian drug dealer specializing in the latest designer drugs.
"Spivak has a reputation as a man not to be crossed. Several of his former associates have been found dead over the past year," Nell reported. "Also, whenever LAPD tried to make a case against him, witnesses and a couple of undercover officers turned up dead."
"And, most of the victims," Eric solemnly inform them, "Died from multiple stab wounds."
They all exchanged glances, and now it was Sam who uttered the word. "Bastard!"
They were now sure they had found one of the men responsible for what had been done to Deeks. But, they knew there was a lot more to this case, and they had to tread carefully, because someone in the LAPD was informing on his own, and getting them killed. Finding that person was going to be the hard part.
"Why didn't Deeks call his case officer?" Sam questioned. "Did he think he was the one who blew his cover, or was he afraid the guy wouldn't send anybody to help him?"
"Either way, Deeks must not have trusted him," Callen replied.
Eric checked the number Deeks had dialed right before his call to Kensi. It had been made thirty minutes before and it was to a cell number issued to a detective in the LAPD.
"The call was never answered," Eric informed them.
"If that was to his case officer, why didn't the guy pick up?" Callen wondered. "He had to know it was from Deeks, and that Deeks wouldn't call him unless he was in trouble."
"We need to talk to that guy," Sam's voice rose in anger.
Hetty came in to tell them all to go home and get some rest. It was after 3 am and she wanted them fresh and back at OSP by eight. She had gotten the name of Deeks' case officer, and as much as Callen and Sam wanted to roust him out of bed right then, she was firm in her decision, and they all headed home, but none of them were very happy about it.
...
Big Bill Franklin had been an LAPD cop for 30 years. He thought he had met every type of man there was to meet, but he wasn't prepared for the two men that greeted him that morning as he was leaving his house. They were both intense and seemed to be seething with barely contained rage. He checked his sidearm as they approached.
"Detective Bill Franklin? Federal agents!" the well-built stocky one said coldly.
The detective was not easy to intimidate, but these two were the exception, especially the muscled, black man walking towards him.
"We have some questions for you," the man growled.
"Who the hell are you and what are you doing at my house?" Bill asked, using a tone he thought would match the big man's intensity. It didn't.
"If you want to talk to me about police business, you can do it down at LAPD," the detective said, his voice rising.
"I'm Callen, and this is Sam Hanna, and we want to talk to you. Right now," As he spoke, Callen put his hand to Sam's chest as the big man closed on the detective.
"Sam, don't!" Callen spoke firmly into his partner's face.
Callen knew his partner well, and he was pretty sure Sam was about to slam the detective up against his own garage, and he didn't want that to happen, at least not yet.
Turning back to Franklin, Callen asked him quietly, "Are you Detective Marty Deeks' case officer?"
"What business is that of yours?" the man huffed.
"We're making it our business, because you left him to die last night and we want to know why," Sam's irate voice shocking the detective almost as much as the news he delivered.
"What are you talking about? Deeks is undercover on assignment and I haven't talked to him since our last debrief," the flustered detective said.
"Then why does his phone show he called you last night at 5 pm?" Callen said moving closer to the detective, causing him to back up against his garage.
"You never answered," Sam said menacingly.
Big Bill was sweating now, trying to work out in his mind what had happened.
"Is Marty dead?" he finally asked softly.
The use of Deeks' first name stopped the two agents for a second. Almost everyone called him Deeks. Only old friends and maybe a few girlfriends called him Marty. That, as well as the distraught look on the man's face, gave them pause. Were they wrong about this guy?
"Tell me what happened to the kid. Is he dead? Please tell me," Bill stammered.
He seemed genuinely upset and they backed off, letting the older man collect himself.
"No, but he's in critical condition and we don't know if he's going to make it," Callen informed him quietly, coming to the realization that the man in front of them was as upset about Deeks as they were.
"Come with me," Bill said. Gathering himself, he led them inside.
Over coffee, Callen gave the shaken detective a rundown of the last 14 hours and told him as much as he could about Deeks' condition. What he didn't tell him was where Deeks was, and that he was checked into the hospital under an assumed name.
"Your turn," Sam said, still not totally trusting the older man. Mistakes had been made on the undercover operation this man was supposed to be running, and it had almost gotten Deeks killed.
"I've known Marty a long time. I was his training officer when he first came on the force," Bill began in a low tone. Callen let him ramble on, hoping to figure out if they could trust him.
"When he was assigned to me as a rookie, I wasn't sure such a mellow kid was cut out to be a police officer," Bill related. "But, I was wrong."
"Let me tell you a story," Franklin continued. "One night we were on break when a homeless guy staggered up the street as we were walking back to our squad car. He was waving a forty-five that looked a hundred years old, muttering to himself and heading straight for me. To me, a gun is a gun, I don't care how old it is, so I was ready to pull mine and take him down if necessary. But Marty walked over to him laughing, and started talking to the guy like he'd known him his whole life, but all the while, Marty's hand was on his weapon, just like I'd taught him. When the guy stopped muttering and started listening, Deeks calmly took the gun out of the guy's hand and gave it to me. I was dumbfounded. I mean for a young officer to do that, well, I'd never seen anything like it."
The story surprised Callen and Sam. They had never heard any stories from Deeks about his early years with the LAPD. He never talked about any of his cases and they never asked.
"We became close after my son was killed in the line of duty," Bill said quietly. "Marty was there for me and my wife during that time and I have never forgotten that."
"But now, I'll let you in on a little secret about Marty's undercover assignment and my involvement in it," Bill told them, lowering his voice as if someone might be listening.
"I wasn't really his case officer," Bill said.
Sam and Callen looked baffled.
"I'm confused here," Callen said, exchanging glances with Sam. "Why did LAPD give us your name and tell us you were his case officer? Are they trying to give us the run-around?" He was really starting to get annoyed.
"It was Marty's idea," Bill replied, causing Callen and Sam to become even more mystified.
"I was part of his cover," Bill continued. "He wanted someone he could trust to act like his case officer, so none of the other detectives at the LAPD would know who was really running the operation. And that would be Internal Affairs."
"Deeks went undercover for Internal Affairs?" Sam asked in surprise. "We thought he was after a drug dealer named Anton Spivak?"
"Marty was on two undercover operations at the same time," Bill said with a proud look on his face. "He was after Spivak, but mainly he was after the dirty cops that worked for him. If they could be exposed and taken out, then LAPD might be able to make a case against Spivak."
"Hey, how did you know he was after Spivak?" Bill said with a puzzled expression on his face. "Who are you guys?"
"One more question, Bill," Callen said as he and Sam rose to leave. "Why didn't you answer Deeks' phone call last night."
At that, the detective deflated in front of them. His answer came out in a croak as his voice broke. He knew his mistake had cost Deeks dearly and might ultimately cost him his life.
"I left my cell phone on my desk when I took my dinner break," He replied. "Somebody in that squad room must have heard it ring, but no one told me I had a call when I got back and there was no message on the phone, I checked. I pray to God it wasn't my mistake that costs Marty his life. I couldn't live with that."
They left the shaken detective sitting alone in his front room. He had asked where Deeks was so he could go see him, but Callen wasn't ready to share that information just yet, and Big Bill Franklin understood why.
...
When Sam and Callen walked into OSP, they found Eric and Nell hovering over Deeks' computer. Eric popped his head up with the smug smile on his face that always preceded good intel.
"When I woke up this morning," he started, "I realized we hadn't checked Deeks' computer files or email. I thought there might be something on it that could give us a clue about the case he was working on."
"You're not going to believe what we found," Nell interjecting, getting a peeved look from Eric for stealing his line.
"Last night, at 4:35, Deeks sent an email to this computer with an attachment," Eric resumed. "It contained a list of five names with dollar amounts next to each one, large dollar amounts."
"They must be the cops Deeks was trying to nail," Callen said. "He must have emailed it here to make sure it was safe."
"Or," Sam broke in, "he sent it here because he knew his cover was blown and didn't want that evidence destroyed.
"Well, it narrows down the list of possible suspects," Callen continued. "But, we still have to figure out which one sold Deeks out. Nell, find out everything you can on those guys, while I talk to Hetty about Bill Franklin's information."
As he turned, Hetty silently appeared beside the desk. "What information, Mr. Callen?" she asked.
He gave her a quick rundown on their meeting that morning. As she listened, he could see that she was getting quite angry. Someone was trying to play her, and she didn't like to be played.
"Captain Bryce, Deeks' Commander, gave me Franklin's name, Mr. Callen," Hetty snapped. "And he is either shining me on, or he didn't know Internal Affairs was involved. How could he not have known that Detective Franklin was just a cover for what Mr. Deeks was working on?"
"Find out who Marty was working with at Internal Affairs, Mr. Callen," Hetty instructed. "And, find out if they know what happened to Mr. Deeks."
"Listen, the guys that did this must think they killed Deeks, right?" Sam wondered aloud. "What if word got around that Deeks wasn't dead? Maybe those guys will go back to check and see if his body is still there. And, when they do, we could be waiting for them."
"That's a dangerous, but interesting idea Mr. Hanna. We could be playing with Mr. Deeks' life," Hetty said, her voice quite low. "But, it may be the only play we have, unless he wakes up and tells us what happened last night."
"I don't like it, Sam," Callen said shaking his head. "These guys are detectives who've managed to keep their criminal activities hidden for quite a while, and if they think Deeks is alive, they just might be able to track him down and finish the job. Also, we still don't know what Deeks' cover was. Did he go in as a dirty cop or did he just go undercover in Spivak's cartel and try to find out what cops Spivak was paying off?"
"Let's talk to Bill Franklin again. He has to know something about Deeks' plan," Sam said.
"I'll call him," Callen agreed, getting Bill on the line.
"What do you need to know," Bill asked immediately. He wanted to make up for his mistake last night and help Marty anyway he could.
"Did Deeks go undercover as a dirty cop, or as a drug dealer?" Callen asked.
"Marty could never go under as a cop on the take," Bill replied. "In the department he's known as a stickler for the law and a straight arrow. He's put bad cops down before, and that's one of the reasons a lot of the guys don't like him or trust him. He makes them nervous."
"He went in as a shady lawyer with a reputation for knowing what officials to pay off down at City Hall," Bill continued. "Apparently, Spivak was trying to expand into more legitimate enterprises but he wanted to cut the red tape."
"Do you know who Deeks' case officer was at Internal Affairs?" Callen asked.
"No, Marty wouldn't tell me," Bill answered quietly.
"There is someone you can talk to over there, though," He said, "Her name is Jeannie Cox. Marty dated her for a while when she was with the department and I think they're still friends. She's a real cutie. She moved over to IA about a year ago."
Callen wasn't sure he wanted to meet another one of Deeks' old girlfriends, but she might be willing to give them some inside information.
"Let me know if I can help with anything else," Bill said in parting.
As Callen started to end the call he heard Bill shout, "NO, don't!..." before two gunshots silenced him.
"Bill!" Callen yelled. "Bill, are you OK?" Callen asked loudly again, but there was no answer.
"Somebody just shot Bill Franklin!" Callen said with shock evident in his voice.
"Eric, let us know where that call came from. He may still be alive," Sam called out as he and Callen raced out. But, they both were pretty sure that Deeks' long-time friend was probably dead. And, they knew that the men, who had tried to kill Marty, were eliminating anyone they thought could tie them to Anton Spivak.
...
...
Marty struggled to break free from deep, ominous shadows, and from whatever was binding him. He felt like he was suffocating. He tried to fight against the feeling of being buried alive, unable to breathe, unable to see. What was wrong? Why did he feel like he was floating? Was he having a bad dream?
A searing pain shot through his body and his mind focused, and he knew he wasn't dreaming. Then the memories came. Vicious scenes flashed against the darkness. He screamed. Then he slowly drifted down and everything vanished into blackness.
...
...
Sam had been at the hospital since dropping Callen off at OSP to brief Hetty on Bill Franklin's death. The detective had been gunned down in a parking garage and there were no witnesses.
Sam had brought dinner for Kensi and then finally convinced her to go home and get some sleep for a few hours. She had been at the hospital for seventeen hours without a break, but she wouldn't go unless he promised to call her if Deeks woke up.
Now, he stood in the darkened hallway outside the ICU, watching as the nurses quietly tended to their patient. He had begun to go over the details of the case in his mind, when he thought he saw Deeks move. It was a quick jerk of his shoulder and his head tossed to one side and then he was still again.
Then Sam heard him scream and instinctively ran toward the door to the ICU. Doctors and nurses rushed to Deeks' side, blocking his view. One of the monitors began a rapid beeping sound, and a crash cart was rushed inside. He could see one of the doctors adjusting a drip line and as quickly as it had begun, the monitors returned to normal, and Deeks returned to silence.
Sam called everyone and told what he had witnessed. Kensi rushed back and couldn't forgive herself for going home to rest.
"I should have been here," Kensi said angrily, as she joined the team in the now familiar waiting room. Not being able to be with Deeks had her on edge, and everyone gave her plenty of room, as she stormed around the waiting area.
"There was nothing you could have done, Kensi," Sam told her. He didn't want her to know just how chilling Deeks' scream had been. He told Callen he couldn't get the sound out of his head.
...
...
Marty's mind drifted in a shadowy world of strange sounds and soft movement. He thought someone was touching him and that scared him, but he didn't know why. Memories floated through his mind...computer screens lighting up a darkened room...voices he recognized...secrets he couldn't remember. They all floated together, but he couldn't make sense of them.
His chest felt like it was on fire, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. His head was throbbing, and a memory flared of being tightly held, followed by an explosion of dazzling colors and a feeling of loss. The dark shape of a man loomed in the shadows of his mind and then he remembered the knife and he stiffened. It flashed once, then twice, and his world became filled with exquisite pain.
He could remember struggling to walk...of being dragged...rough hands pulling him along...then cold rain and a harsh wind. A familiar laugh became confused in his mind with an outburst of exploding blackness and warm blood...Strange ragged shapes filled a desolate landscape and he remembered thinking...what an ugly place to die.
...
...
Callen had slept at the hospital, keeping Kensi company. Hetty and Sam joined them in the ICU. Doctor Enriquez, Marty's surgeon, thought having friends close might help his patient when he regained consciousness.
"I checked on your friend last night after the episode he had," Dr. Enriquez informed them. "I was worried that he might be having convulsions from the skull fracture, but I found no sign of that. He should slowly become conscious in the next hour or so. You can stay here with him."
Then the doctor left them alone with Deeks. Kensi tentatively took his hand in hers. It was warm, so different from when they found him. His skin had felt so cold that night.
Callen was quiet, not knowing what to say. He couldn't believe how awful Deeks looked.
Hetty brushed Deeks' hair back from the bandage that covered his head. She realized she had never touched him before, and a lump rose in her throat as she thought how close they had come to losing him. She would have missed that cocky smile of his.
"I didn't think I'd ever say this," Sam commented with a smile on his face, "But I actually miss hearing him ramble on about some obscure statistic or toss off some smart-ass remark." Suddenly, Deeks arched his back and went rigid for a few seconds. Then he began to thrash around, ripping his hand from Kensi's grasp. Low moans escaped his battered lips, and his head jerked from side to side. They knew he was re-living the violence he had suffered and it was hard to watch. A doctor and some of his nurses tried to calm him. When they couldn't, they decided to tie him down to prevent him from hurting himself. But, as soon as they did, he began to fight even harder. Finally, they had to sedate him.
"The sedative we've given him is a mild one, so he should be able to hear your voices," The doctor said. "A familiar voice is what he needs to hear right now. In his subconscious, he's still fighting for his life. You need to make him believe he's safe now. So, talk to him. Let him know people who care about him are with him and that's it's OK to wake up." Then the doctor nodded and walked out.
"More than one person did this to him," Callen said, shocked by the violence of Deeks' reaction to being tied down.
"Yeah. I think a couple of guys held him down while he was beaten and stabbed," Sam replied.
Kensi added, "There are no marks on his hands He never had a chance to land a punch."
"Well, he's fighting now," Hetty said quietly.
They had always thought of him as "delicate", kidding him when he whined about a hangnail, or having to go on assignment in the desert, which he hated. But, he had survived devastating injuries and was now fighting them over and over again in his mind.
Hetty wasn't surprised by Marty's strength. She knew his early life had been a battle, and he had persevered. He had conquered many fears in his lifetime, and she was sure he would conquer the ones he was struggling to overcome now. He just needed a little help from his friends.
...
"Kensi?" He called out softly, his voice hoarse and unsure.
"Deeks!" Kensi responded, moving quickly to his side. "I'm right here," She said, taking his hand and smiling for the first time in days, as she looked into the troubled blue eyes of her partner.
"What happened to me?" he asked as he touched the bandages around his head and chest. He looked bewildered.
"Don't you remember?" She asked.
"No," he said and closed his eyes.
...
The OSP Center erupted with elation when Hetty relayed the message that Deeks was awake and talking. High fives and smiles filled the room and relief was evident in everyone's voices.
Hetty took Sam and Callen aside to tell them about Deeks' memory loss.
"I guess we'll just have to figure this out on our own," Callen said. "Tell Kensi to let us know if he does remember anything."
"Nell gave me intel on the five crooked cops," Sam said, his voice betraying the disappointment he felt. They had all been hoping Deeks would be able to tell them what had happened and which one had blown his cover and almost killed him.
"We know Anton Spivak is involved and is probably the one who stabbed Deeks," Callen began. "And, we have the names of the guys on the take. But, if Deeks can't remember, then he can't be a witness against them and we have no case."
"I am going to the hospital, gentlemen, and I want you to go talk to Marty's case officer at Internal Affairs," Hetty instructed. "He may be the only other person we can trust on this case, now that Bill Franklin has been murdered."
"I want to talk to Deeks' former girlfriend, too," Callen stated as they headed out the door. "She's his friend and Marty might have talked to her about the case since she works for Internal Affairs."
...
Sam and Callen exchanged looks as they walked toward the desk of Jeannie Cox. She was tall and slender, with soft brown hair that fell to her shoulders.
"I can see why Deeks dated her," Sam remarked to Callen, slightly smiling.
"Yeah, but what did she see in Deeks?" Callen bantered back.
As she turned to greet them, they couldn't help but notice her striking hazel eyes and full lips. She was a very beautiful woman.
"I understand you're Federal Agents," Jeannie said, her voice firm but warm. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm Callen and this is Sam Hanna. Did you know Marty Deeks was almost killed two nights ago?" Callen said bluntly, tired of mincing words with the LAPD, and interested in her reaction.
They heard a quick intake of breath as Jeannie Cox grabbed the edge of her desk and sat down.
"Almost? Then he's still alive?" she asked. They could see she was struggling to rein in her emotions.
"Yes, but he's critical," Sam told her.
"Come with me," she said as she rose and led them toward a back office.
Wendell Turner was catching up on paperwork when Jeannie came in and introduced the two federal agents. He was a well-built black man with piercing eyes and a lot of nervous energy. He was a decorated cop, and good at his job. When he locked onto something he was like a bulldog until the case wrapped. It was one of the reasons he was asked to join Internal Affairs.
Turner noticed the look of shock on Jeannie's face and he quickly came around his desk and sat her down. She looked pale and shaky.
"What's wrong, Jeannie?" He asked with concern.
Callen stepped toward Wendell Turner and said. "I can answer that"
"Two nights ago, we found Marty Deeks in a vacant lot. He'd been stabbed, pistol-whipped and shot in the back," Callen told him in a low voice full of the anger that had rarely left him since they had found Deeks.
"Dammit!" Turner said, violently slamming his fist on the desk. "Another undercover cop dead! And Deeks was one of the best."
"He survived, Lieutenant," Callen told him and then watched as relief spread across the man's face.
"Thank God," He whispered. "But, why did he call you instead of me?"
"That's what we'd like to know, among other things," Callen replied. "When was your last debrief with him?"
"Three days ago," Turner replied, quickly walking over and closing the door. "He said he was close to getting the names of the cops on Spivak's payroll, and that he was wrapping things up. We planned to meet tonight, actually. He was supposed to give me the names of the cops involved."
"When we found him, the only thing he could say was 'No cops'," Sam shared with him.
"Where is he? I need to talk to him," Turner said. His voice became stronger as he tried to take control of the situation.
"Why should we trust you, when Deeks obviously didn't?" Callen asked coldly.
Turner stood and leaned towards the two men. "I have been working this case for over a year, trying to find out who's been tipping off Anton Spivak whenever the LAPD got close to arresting him," he said, his voice harsh with emotion. "I've had two undercover officers murdered, multiple witnesses disappear, and now you tell me they almost killed Deeks. I want this guy and the cops working for him as much as you do, so quit jerking me around and tell me what Deeks knows."
"Deeks can't remember a thing, Lieutenant Turner," Callen told him. "But I can give you the names of the cops on Spivak's payroll, if that will calm you down a little."
"I haven't been calm since you two walked in here," He said, slowly letting out his breath.
"Is Big Bill Franklin's death connected to this?" Turner asked. "Marty told me he was using Bill as part of his cover story in the department."
"I was on the phone with him when he was shot," Callen answered sadly. "We think the cops involved are getting rid of anyone who might know they're working for Spivak, so watch your back."
"Does Deeks know Bill is dead?" Turner asked solemnly. "They were pretty close."
"He's in rough shape right now," Sam replied. "We'll tell him when he's strong enough to deal with it."
"Can I see him?" Jeannie asked quietly.
"Maybe," Callen told her. "You people have a leak somewhere and we're not going to put Deeks in jeopardy by disclosing his location."
"Please let me see him," Jeanne said earnestly. "Marty and I dated for a while and we're close friends. I just want to see for myself that he's alright."
Callen and Sam exchanged looks, and Sam told her, "We'll think about it, but don't worry, we'll keep him safe."
With that, Jeannie slowly got up and walked out of the office, her head down.
Wendell Turner looked as if all the air had gone out of his body. "You think the leak is inside Internal Affairs?" he asked.
"We were hoping you might have some idea about that," Callen remarked.
"Honestly, I don't see how," Turner replied. "My team is tight and all of them are dedicated to taking these guys down. But, I'll keep what happened to Deeks to myself for now. It will be better for him if the guys who did this think he's dead."
"Now, when can I get that list of names?" Turner said.
Sam and Callen gave Wendell Turner the address of the boatshed and arranged to meet him there in a few hours. He agreed to share everything he had on Anton Spivak and on the case.
...
When Callen and Sam stopped by the hospital to see Deeks, Hetty and Kensi were quietly talking with him. He looked better than they expected, but he had a slightly dazed expression on his battered face, and he seemed extremely tired. He smiled when he saw them.
"We met another one of your old girlfriends today, Deeks," Sam teased.
"Jeannie Cox," Callen chimed in. "She's way too hot for you, Deeks."
Everyone laughed, happy for the distraction, but Kensi noticed an odd look on Deeks' face at the mention of the woman's name. He looked confused as if he didn't remember who she was. It disturbed Kensi. Had he lost more of his memory than just the past few days, she wondered. She let it go, because he began smiling again as he joked a little with Sam.
Hetty took Callen off to the side. "Don't overload him with questions and information just yet, Mr. Callen," Hetty said, "He gets upset and agitated when he can't remember things and I'd rather not see him sedated again." Callen agreed and passed it on to Sam.
"Kensi said you went to Internal Affairs," Deeks said hesitantly, his voice husky with fatigue. "Did you talk to Wendell? Does he know anything?" His voice faltered and as he tried to sit up he suddenly grimaced in pain and tightly closed his eyes.
"Slow down Deeks," Callen said softly to him. "We're meeting with him tonight at the boatshed."
"We'll get the guys who did this. Trust us," Sam said as he moved to Deeks' side and gently put a hand on his arm. "Your job is to rest and recover."
"What, no lecture on good tradecraft, Sam?" Deeks weakly joked. But then his features took on a look of deep reflection as he said. "I must have really screwed up, yeah? Or, I wouldn't be lying here."
"Deeks," Kensi said quietly. "You can't blame yourself."
"Someone sold you out, Deeks," Callen reassured him. "And the lowlifes that nearly killed you are the ones to blame, not you."
They finally calmed him down and sat with him until he went to sleep, hoping this time he wouldn't have nightmares.
...
When Wendell Turner entered the boatshed he wasn't alone. Jeannie Cox walked in behind him, surprising the two agents.
"Jeannie is second in command on this case," Turner explained. "She wanted in on this."
"In fact, I insisted," Jeannie added firmly. "This is personal. I want the guys that did this to Marty maybe more than you do."
The two agents nodded their agreement and turned toward the screen showing the service photos of the five men they were after.
"Sanchez, Ellis, Young, Fernandez, and Ross. These are the guys Deeks found on Spivak's computer," Callen informed them.
Wendell Turner walked toward the screen, staring at the men he had been seeking for over a year. He slowly let out his breath and said. "The bastards!"
"Yeah, that's what we call 'em too," Sam said.
"These guys have been in trouble before. They've all been investigated for different offenses over the past couple of years," Turner shared. "I should have known."
"We investigate a lot of officers, Wendell," Jeannie said, trying to set his mind at ease. "You couldn't have known it was these five guys, there is no connection between them that we know of."
Wendell and Jeannie began to share what they knew about the five men. All had pretty good service records, but all had been investigated for taking bribes, roughing up suspects, and other minor offenses.
"We almost had Ross on a felony charge for beating up another cop, but the officer was killed in the line of duty before we could make it stick," Turner said, a look of anger on his face. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was the guy that pistol-whipped Deeks. He thinks he's a real tough guy."
"Let's go pick him up," Sam said, rising with a determined look on his face. "I'd like to see just how tough he is when the other guy isn't being held down."
Lieutenant Turner got on the phone to get arrest warrants and then got ready to leave.
Jeannie turned to Callen and again asked if she could see Deeks. Callen checked with Sam, who nodded in agreement. He gave her the information on which hospital Deeks was in and his alias. She thanked him, relief in her voice, and left with Turner.
Callen was on the phone with Hetty when they heard gunfire. Rushing outside, they found Wendell Turner badly wounded and Jeannie bleeding from a wound to her arm. On the ground around them were Ellis and Fernandez. They were both dead.
"What happened?" Callen yelled at Jeannie as he tried to stop the bleeding from the wounds in Turner's chest.
"How did they know you were here?" Sam asked as he called for an ambulance.
"They must have staked out Internal Affairs and then followed us here," Jeannie said, breathing heavily. "They ambushed us just as we got to our car. They both fired on Wendell before he could get a shot off. I took cover and managed to take them down."
"Good shooting, Jeannie," Callen called to her.
When the ambulance came, Callen let Jeannie know that the hospital they were going to was the same one Deeks was in. She thanked him again for letting her see him.
"Tough lady," Callen remarked, "Why did Deeks let her get away?"
"She probably dumped him," Sam said with a grin on his face.
"Now, let's go get the other dirty cops, before they try to kill someone else," Sam said, now completely serious and looking for payback.
On the way to Ross's house, Callen called Hetty and gave her an update, and followed up with a call to Kensi giving her a heads up that Jeannie Cox would be coming by to visit Deeks, and filling her in on what happened. He thought Kensi and Jeannie would get along just fine. Both were strong, capable women who both had "a thing" for Marty Deeks.
...
Kensi found Jeannie in the emergency room having her arm bandaged. She introduced herself and asked how Lieutenant Turner was doing. Jeannie said she had no idea, which seemed odd to Kensi. She didn't know their working relationship, but it still seemed strange Jeannie wouldn't try and find out about the condition of her lieutenant.
As the doctor finished up, Kensi made a quick assessment of the woman before her. She really was quite stunning to look at. Her light brown hair, done in a stylish cut, brushed her shoulders. She looked strong and in good physical shape. Kensi knew this woman would have set off Deeks' "spidey senses", his expression for being attracted to a woman, and this was a beautiful woman. Kensi knew Jeannie had dated Deeks, but she wasn't sure how serious they had been. As the woman walked toward her, Kensi felt a sense of wariness about her. She seemed on guard, but then again, she had just been in a firefight with two armed men and killed them both, so Kensi cut her some slack.
"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" Kensi offered.
"That sounds good," Jeannie replied with a soft, lovely laugh.
"How's the arm?" Kensi asked
"Nothing I can't recover from," Jeannie said in a somewhat dismissive tone. "Tell me about Marty".
Kensi began giving her a rundown of his injuries and the progress he had made since the surgery. She noticed the woman seemed to be only half-listening, and that surprised her. Kensi had been interested in every detail about Deeks injuries so she could help him while he was recovering. Jeannie made no comments at all about what had happened to her former lover. They must have been lovers, Kensi thought, and suddenly she felt a flash of jealousy. She stopped and collected herself as they reached the cafeteria.
As they took their coffee to a table near the back, Jeannie looked appraisingly at Kensi and remarked. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" Then she laughed.
Kensi choked on her coffee before she could respond. "That's none of your business," Kensi sputtered. She felt her most intimate feelings were exposed to a woman she had just met ten minutes ago. Her mind became very alert and she felt her guard go up. Who the hell did this woman think she was? She doesn't even know me.
"Come on, Kensi," Jeannie said. "We're both grown women who have been attracted to the same man. At least, I was once, but that was some time ago. Did you know Marty and I lived together for over three months?" She raised her eyebrows as she asked that last question and there was a hint of competition in her eyes.
"The sex was good. Great, actually," she immediately continued, hardly taking a breath. "But, I outgrew him, both intellectually and socially. Marty has simple tastes, and I prefer a more cultured man. But, he was a charming lover, gentle and sexy as hell."
Kensi could only listen in stunned silence as the woman continued to share intimate details of her time with Deeks. She was pretty sure Jeannie thought very highly of herself and probably only herself. What had Deeks seen in her? But then she had to smile to herself, as she remembered this was Deeks she was talking about. This woman was gorgeous, and what man, especially Deeks, wouldn't want to be with her if they could.
"Have you slept with him yet?" Jeannie quietly asked, leaning forward with a curious smile on her lips and an undertone of enmity in her voice.
The question hung in the air and put Kensi on full alert. There was a darkness in Jeannie that made her uneasy. Why would she want to know about Kensi and Deeks' relationship, when the most important thing was his recovery from the horrific attack he had just suffered? Jeannie didn't seem to be the least bit interested in Deeks' condition.
Kensi's phone rang before she could tell Jeannie where to stick her curiosity.
Hetty was calling to ask her to come by the OSP Center for a little while. Kensi agreed, but was still apprehensive about leaving Jeannie at the hospital with Deeks. She realized she was probably just being paranoid and a little jealous, too. She made herself relax, and as she got up to leave she told Jeannie where to find the ICU.
"Don't worry, Kensi," Jeannie said, in a low, sultry voice, "I'll take care of him."
...
Sam shut off the car lights as they pulled up close to Ross's house. Looking through the long lense on his camera, Callen could see Ross was inside with two other men.
"Sanchez and Young are in there with him, Sam," Callen reported. "Is the tactical team in position out back?"
"Yeah, let's go get these bastards," Sam replied checking his gun.
Callen and Sam yelled "Federal Agents!" as they busted through Ross's front door. Sanchez tried to escape out the back, firing as he went, but was shot down by the tactical squad. Callen ended Young's life with two quick shots to the chest. But, Ross held his gun up and surrendered which surprised Callen and disappointed Sam, who would have happily put a couple of rounds through the guy's head.
Sam shoved Ross against the wall, his arm in his throat.
"You the tough guy that pistol-whipped Marty Deeks?" Sam asked with venom in his voice.
"He got what he deserved, the little snitch," Ross spit out. "But, you got nothing on me, he doesn't remember what happened anyway."
Then Sam stepped back letting Ross stand free.
"Come on, tough guy, let's see what you got," Sam said, handing Callen his gun and motioning Ross towards him "Let's see how you do with someone who isn't being held down."
Ross looked surprised, and a little wary, but boldly stepped forward to take Sam on. He threw a punch, but Sam dodged it easily and hit him just above the diaphragm, knocking the air out of his lungs. Ross went to his knees, but Sam pulled him up and forced his arm up behind his back with such force that he could hear it as it broke. Ross screamed and Sam shoved him hard against the wall.
"Wait Sam!" Callen yelled, grabbing Sam's shoulder.
"How did you know Deeks doesn't remember anything?" Callen quickly asked Ross.
"Jeannie Cox told me," Ross said with a grimace on his face. "She's the one running all the informants for Anton Spivak."
Callen and Sam stared at each other in shocked disbelief. Callen frantically called Kensi at the hospital. She was the only person who could save Deeks from the woman coming to kill him.
"Too bad Deeks didn't die when I shot him," Ross told them smugly. "I should have aimed for the back of his head, then we would have been free and clear."
Hearing that comment, Sam's anger erupted. He pulled Ross around so he could face him and then hit him hard, twice, in the kidneys, like he was working the big bag. Then he hit him right between the eyes, breaking his nose and knocking him out. They left him there on the floor for the tactical squad to clean up like the garbage he was.
...
"Hi Marty," Jeannie said softly as she entered the dimly lit hospital room.
At the sound of her voice, Deeks slowly woke from a dreamless sleep, the first he'd had since being in the hospital. He gingerly pulled himself up on his pillows, but the effort still sent spikes of pain through his lower body.
He looked at the woman coming towards him out of the shadows, not sure who was speaking. It wasn't Kensi, and she didn't look like any of his nurses. He was on a first name basis with all of them now.
"Who are you?" Deeks asked.
"It's Jeannie, Marty," she said. "Don't you remember me? You use to take me to dinner at those awful bars you like." Then she laughed. A light, slightly musical, laugh that was very distinct.
"You were there that night," Deeks said, his voice rising and his eyes instantly widening in recognition. "I remember your laugh."
His mind was suddenly unlocked and filled with all the horrible details of that night. His breathing became rapid as he reached for the call button, but Jeannie knocked his hand away, shoving him back onto the pillow and holding him there. He struggled, but she hit him hard across the face, and he was still.
He turned to look at her, anguish in his eyes.
"I remember everything, now, Jeannie," he said with a tinge of sadness. "I couldn't believe it when you stepped out of Spivak's car. How could you work for such a vicious man? He butchered two good cops and murdered innocent people?"
Jeanne laughed again. "The money, you idiot," she replied harshly. "You never did understand what I wanted out of life. And what I wanted certainly wasn't going to come on a cop's salary. I contacted Spivak after I got to Internal Affairs and saw the details of the operations they were running on him. He made me a great offer. What can I say, I have expensive tastes, unlike you."
Deeks just shook his head sadly as he finally began to remember details from that awful night.
...
Ross and the other two, Sanchez and Young, had surprised him as he worked on Spivak's computer. No one was supposed to be there that night, so Marty knew it was his one chance to find the records Spivak kept on all the people he was paying off.
The three cops came into the room with guns drawn and pushed him out into the warehouse. They took the flash drive he'd made and then knocked him to the floor. The first kick from Ross hit him low in the side, and he could feel his ribs break. The second was aimed at his head, and the explosive pain nearly caused him to black out. He could feel the blood running down the side of his face.
Sanchez and Young pulled him up from the floor and held his arms tightly behind his back as Ross continued his assault. Marty remembered the slightly glazed look of hate in Ross's eyes as he repeatedly hit him, and he knew there was something missing in the guy. He didn't know how long the beating went on, but he was glad when it stopped. He tried to catch his breath.
Marty was dimly aware of Spivak's long, black Bentley pulling into the warehouse, and he made an effort to look as the door opened. He saw the tall, well-dressed drug dealer step out, but he wasn't prepared for the person who followed him out of the car. She laughed as she walked towards him.
"Jeannie?" Marty remembered gasping, barely able to speak.
He stared at a woman he had lived with for three months and who had betrayed him to one of the most violent men he had ever known. He'd never been so completely fooled by someone in his entire life. He slumped to his knees.
"Why?" he asked. She laughed again and shook her head as if he wouldn't understand. She was right, he didn't.
He was jerked to his feet as Spivak approached. Marty saw the knife flash in his hand and he tried to brace himself for what he knew was coming. Without saying a word, Spivak quickly plunged the long knife into his stomach. Marty felt the air go out of his lungs as blinding pain enveloped him. The second thrust was almost an afterthought, but the pain was brilliant in its intensity, and he sank into a dark fog.
Marty woke to the cooling rain as they dragged him along the rough sidewalk. The lot they took him to was strewn with garbage and abandoned cars, and he knew it was going to be the last place he would ever see in the city where he grew up.
What an ugly place to die, he thought.
As they let him fall to his knees, he tried to fight his way free, but was too weak. He didn't want to die, especially not here. The two cops forced his arms behind his back and when he saw the gun in Ross's hand he knew his life was about to end. And he was afraid.
Memories flashed unexpectedly through his mind. Memories of the terror he felt as a child when his father roared through the house looking for him. A heavy sadness washed over him as he remembered the man he feared most in his life. His father. But, he forced his mind away from those dark memories. He had so little time left and he wanted his life to end while he was thinking about the things that brought him joy. The joy of sitting on his surfboard waiting for a wave. The joy of running. The joy of telling a funny story and watching people laugh. The joy of kissing a woman for the first time.
And Kensi. He wanted to think of Kensi most of all because she was the one person who had brought the most profound joy to his life. A joy that was now tinged with regret because he had never told her he loved her. And now he would never have the chance.
Then the gun slammed down on his head and his mind and his memories faded to black.
...
...
"Hey, Marty," Jeannie said softly again, "You're drifting. Pay attention. I want you to focus on me because I'm here to finish what Ross screwed up. You ruined a perfectly good set-up by not dying but I'm going to fix that." Then she smiled as she pulled a syringe from her purse.
Marty thought she must be a sociopath and he knew she was going to kill him.
"It won't hurt, Marty," she said seductively, "You're not afraid, are you?"
Then she laughed. Marty was really beginning to hate that laugh.
"That night in the warehouse, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed watching you suffer," she continued with a touch of madness in her voice. "When Anton plunged that knife into your stomach, I felt euphoric, just like I'll feel when I inject you with the air in this syringe. I'm going to kill you, Marty, just like you deserve."
"I really do hate you, Marty. Do you know that?" Jeannie hissed, leaning over and grabbing a handful of his hair.
He tried to move as far away from her as he could, but then she grabbed the bandage covering his chest and yanked him roughly up against her body. A blinding pain shot through him and his mind began to cloud.
"First you reject me and tell me you don't want me anymore," she said, her voice harsh in his ear and rising with intensity. "Then you come back into my life and screw up my brilliant plans with Anton. Now he thinks I'm a liability and he wants me out," she said venomously.
Marty could feel her fingers clawing into his chest, and he fought to stay conscious as waves of pain rolled over him.
Neither one noticed the door open until the light spilled onto the bed.
Silhouetted in the doorway stood Kensi, her gun drawn and pointing straight at Jeannie.
"Get your hands off him, you bitch," Kensi shouted.
Jeannie shoved Deeks away and stepped back from the side of the bed, a look of disbelief on her face. Slowly a smile spread across her face, then she shook her head and choked out a strangled laugh.
"Hey, Marty, it's your partner," Jeannie sneered. "She's in love with you, did you know that?"
Then she reached for her gun and Kensi calmly fired two shots into her chest. Jeannie's body flew backwards into the wall, and she was dead before she hit the floor.
Kensi moved quickly to Marty's side. He was semi-conscious and his breathing was ragged. But, as she brushed his hair back, and took his hand in hers, he opened his eyes and looked up at her.
"Kensi?" he whispered, with a look of relief in his eyes.
"You OK?" she asked softly.
"I'm good," he said, and then he smiled.
