A/N: First thank you for all the follows, favourites, and reviews. The response was overwhelming and now I'm all inspired. So keep them coming.
I confess I know nothing about the LAPD or the California justice system. In fact, I believed that they were still headquartered at Parker Center (it closed in 2009). As guest pointed out, the statute of limitations for crimes that aren't murder is eight years. Thank you guest!
To clarify the timeline, Deeks graduated law school in 2002ish, spent 3 years as a public defender, became a cop in '05, spent 2 yrs in uniform then moved to narcotics in 2007 and joined undercover in 2008. The events with which Rivera is concerned took place in 2007-08.
Be warned, there a few paragraphs with mildly violent content, nothing too gruesome, I think, especially for a show with several deaths every week. Nonetheless, trigger warning: violence.
Holding Cell A in the LAPD Central Holding was exclusively for white males. The segregation ended there, and so there were knots of Aryans, Russians, and various other eastern bloc nationalities, who seemed more cordial with each other than with their former soviet overlords, clustered in the 30x30 space. In one corner, was another group, three men, white but no visible tattoos of any kind, not even on their arms. Two of them were in their mid-thirties and had the look of former soldiers, while the third was younger, in his mid-twenties and was moving his gaze between the different groups, observing but not outwardly afraid.
Deeks took up a position about midway between this trio and a group of eastern bloc gangsters midway along the back wall. There he stood, projecting the cool confidence that was Max's trademark. His other trademark, beating the crap out of people, probably wasn't the best move here.
The younger man caught notice of Deeks and walked over, the two former soldiers rose and walked with him. Definitely bodyguards.
"You got a name?"
"Do you?" Deeks needed time to think. If he was going to get himself out of this, he needed a minute to find a way out. Which was probably part of the reason he'd been gen den'd in the first place.
"Ernest Thornhill."
"Seriously?" Deeks asked in atone that he intended to mix both surprise and go away in roughly equal measure.
"My grandfather immigrated from Russia, he liked North by Northwest, changed the family name from Stepandrov, understandably. Don't ask me where Ernest came from."
"Well, when a man and a woman love each other-" If hostility didn't work, maybe mockery would.
"Jeez dad I know how babies are made. And you didn't answer my question." Not as easily distracted as most.
"The name my mother gave me." This time piss off and anger for tone.
"A non-answer if I ever heard one." The guy wouldn't take a hint. And all Deeks wanted was to be left alone. From the back of his mind Max made a suggestion, that forebrain Deeks didn't disagree with.
"How about piss off before I beat your skull in?"
"That sounds made up." Gentry took a powerful step forward. Thornhill didn't flinch. Though both his bodyguards stepped forward so they stood shoulder to shoulder with their boss.
Three to one odds weren't good and as much as Max was screaming to be set loose, Deeks knew that he had too much to live for to be beaten to death in a holding cell.
"Max Gentry."
"What you in for?"
"You're going to play twenty questions?"
"I'm just making conversation. Nothing else to do here and I already know these guys," said Thornhill, indicating the two ex-soldiers flanking him.
"Possession, firearms."
"Business or use?"
"Business."
Thornhill nodded. "Well, they say I made threats, assasulted an officer and resisted arrest, but whether I did or not is yet to be proven."
"Who the hell did you piss off?"
"Some cop on a power trip. It ain't no thing."
"Why did you come over here?"
"You're not afraid, so you've been in a place like this before, but you're alone, not in a regular crew. And you're mid-to-late thirties, in this life, and not dead. Therefore, you're capable and I wanted to feel you out." That kind of analysis was deeply unsettling. To Deeks it spoke to a rational and empathetic brain, which was rare in a world where most of the men who weren't killed by their twenty fifth birthday were sociopaths.
"And now?"
"I haven't decided yet." Well at least things weren't going to be boring.
Deeks stood in his spot for another hour, which included a rather charming encounter with a group of Polish gangsters who had formed the mistaken impression their ancestors had come from Africa far more recently than they actually had. Deeks let Max handle that one. Thornhill moved around the holding cell, making conversation, trying his hand at a craps game over near the left wall and losing badly. Finally, he made his way back over to Deeks.
He indicated a group near the front corner. "I spoke to our Aryan friends over there. Apparently Max Gentry is man who can get things, in the outside world at least."
"You're checking up on me already?"
"It's like my father used to say, you have to look at the whole board."
"We're in jail, don't you have more immediate concerns, like prison."
"I have a goal, and this temporary delay isn't going to stop me. Achieving that goal will require resources, and I haven't found a reason why you shouldn't be the one to help supply them." Oh this was just perfect. Rational, patient and driven. Deeks wondered if Ernest Thronhill was known to LAPD yet, because he would be soon.
"You're offering me a job?"
"Not yet. I'm just saying that I've heard you're a good operator and it might be a good idea if I knew where to find you if at some point in the future I wanted to have a conversation."
"The Old Haunt on Preston. The bartender knows how to contact me." It was pure reflex. It wasn't until after he said the words that he realised that, despite the fact that LAPD had apparently turned their backs on him, he was still doing the job he loved.
The door to the holding cell opened. A man, about 6'2" and already dressed in DOC attire, walked in. He had brown hair and could have passed for Thornhill's older brother. Thornhill got up and headed over. The two men embraced. Apparently, they were brothers.
"What are you doing here?"
"They pulled me out of my cell this morning, some bullshit about new charges. I didn't even get a phone call before they had me on the transport bus. You?"
"I got arrested: threats, assaulting an officer, resisting arrest."
"Them?" He asked, pointing at the bodyguards.
"22-55. Listen Rob, its petty harassment so the Mayor can get the stats up for the elect-"
He paused, realising how little sense his words made, and turned to the two bodyguards who were currently on the other side of the room. Both men got up and started walking over, attempting to appear casual.
At the same time, the Russians broke into two groups. One moved to block the bodyguards. The other made for the Thornhill brothers.
The Russians moved past Deeks and spread out, quickly surrounding the brothers. Deeks saw at least two shivs in the hands of the Russians. Ernest raised his fists while his brother dropped a shiv out of his sleeve. That gave the Russians pause. But even so the brothers were outnumbered three to one and would be killed within minutes of it coming to blows.
Deeks drew his own shiv and stabbed one of the Russians hard in the back. The man went down in a cry of pain. His fellows turned on Deeks and the Thornhill brothers struck. The elder got in his own back stab before planting the shiv in another's belly. Ernest delivered a gut punch to one and then grabbed the man's head and slammed the Russian's face against his knee. Deeks punched another Russian in the face and the man went down. Rob picked up another shiv and delivered three strikes to the remaining Russian's gut even as he backed away.
Then the three men turned to the other group, even as the alarms started to blare. Already four Russians were down but one of the bodyguards was also down and the other was bleeding from a gut stab and swiping a knife, not a shiv, in front of him in a vain attempt to keep the remaining three Russians away. But suddenly the Russians found themselves facing another three armed and unwounded men. The fight lasted only a few seconds. Deeks held back but the Thornhill brothers did not. Ernest stabbed one in the gut. The elder Thornhill stabbed one in the back before he could even turn and sliced the remaining man's throat even as the Russian tried to grapple. Then he turned to the watching crowd. "Anyone else." There were no takers.
As soon as it was over, Ernest dropped to his knees beside the unmoving bodyguard. He quickly checked for a pulse and, finding one, pulled off his own shirt to staunch the flow of blood. The elder Thornhill placed his sweatshirt against the wounded man's side and supported him as he collapsed to the ground. Deeks dropped his own shiv and fell to his knees as the holding cell door was opened. A dozen guards in riot gear came pouring in, batons raised.
Deeks awoke in a hospital bed.
"Sleeping beauty awakens."
"You think I'm beautiful?
"I told you he was funny."
"Yeah you sang his praises." The elder Thornhill turned to Deeks. "I don't think we've been introduced. Rob Thornhill."
"Max Gentry."
"You've been in prison before."
"Two years, unlicensed firearm; one year and a hell of an ass-kicking for assaulting an officer. How'd you know?"
"Because you carry a shiv with you."
"Thank you, by the way. We wouldn't have made it out without your help." Ernest said.
"How are your guys?"
"Both on their way to surgery."
"And the other guys?"
"A few of them definitely aren't getting up."
"And the rest better hope I never see them again." Rob put in. Deeks felt the sinking sensation that he knew was the onset of guilt over the deaths he'd caused.
His face obviously betrayed emotion because Ernest said, "Don't worry, you're not going to be charged, not between our bullshit and that the Russians were clearly going to attack first. And if you do, we'll have your back."
"Thanks."
"As long as you're with us, we'll be with you." Deeks wondered how far that loyalty would go when the chips were down.
"Who were those guys?"
"Don't know but my guess is they work for Tyodor Muscov. We have a dispute with him."
"I've heard of him." Muscov controlled a large part of the LA drug trade. He was also a thug who wasn't above acts of wanton violence, such as a car bombing that had killed one of his major rival and the man's wife and two kids or riddling a crowded restaurant with bullets to kill another, and apparently he had enough influence to have one man arrested and another moved from prison to jail just to kill them. "What kind of dispute?"
"The kind that started when he killed our father."
"I see." They were going to be trouble down the road.
"I really hope that you never do." Of all the things the man could have said, it had to be something that reminded him of his treatment at the hands of Siderov.
The door to the infirmary opened. A man in a uniform and another in a suit stood in the doorway, together with three COs.
"Gentry, you're going to solitary. Thornhill, you're going back to San Quentin. Apparently it was an error in your paperwork that brought you here. Other Thornhill, you're being released. The charges against you have been dropped."
"Guess Muscov has decided to cut his losses," Ernest said to Rob quiet enough that the guards couldn't hear.
"Doesn't mean he won't try again. Watch yourself."
"You too."
The guards walked into the room and started to uncuff the brothers and Deeks.
"See you round Max, and thank you."
"See you round, and you're welcome."
Instead of guiding Deeks to the hole, the guard led him into the admin block. Gathered in a room were Granger, Bates, Rivera and Kensi. The moment Deeks was in the room, Kensi stepped forward, but stopped short almost immediately.
"I take it Rivera briefed you."
"That's not relevant now," said Bates.
"Are you serious?" Rivera said, turning on Bates.
"No, this is my joking voice."
"He's corrupt."
"He went along, to get along, for six months, the better part of a decade ago. You have nothing on him now and he's more than proved what a good cop he is." It was touching how much faith Bates had in him.
"Just because I haven't found something doesn't mean it isn't there." Oh that was just hurtful.
"Whatever happened to guilty until proven innocent Detective? I doubt your bosses would be happy to find out that you were harassing one of the Department's best over something that you can barely prove, against people nobody cares about, from a time out of memory. And it's not like he killed anyone."
"He killed someone today."
"He saved a life today. Even when you locked him up, he still protected and served. Think about how that will play." Rivera's face twisted into something ugly. She turned to Deeks.
"Where did you get the shiv?"
"More importantly are you ok? The guards gave you a hell of a knock." Bates said
"I'm fine." He felt Kensi's gaze boring into the side of his head. "I'm good. I've been hit harder before." And the less said about that the better. He turned to Rivera. "As for where the shiv came from, you're a detective, you figure it out."
"You really are going in solitary now. When I informed Rivera's superiors that you had been gen den'd, they were displeased. Especially when the FOP found out." Rivera fixed Granger with a dark look. Apparently, the plan was to pump him for information and then move him to solitary.
"Listen detective. Even if I did know something about corrupt activity, and I don't, I wouldn't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I don't like you."
Rivera sighed and began gathering her things. "Just remember that the criminals you're protecting wouldn't blink an eye at letting you rot in this place, or hesitate to sell you out."
"Yeah, but I don't like you." Rivera walked to the door. "You may want to look into their arrest of Ernest Thornhill and his brother Robert. I get the sense they may not be on the up and up."
"Where do you think I'm going now?"
Deeks sat down in a chair next to Kensi and slid his hand into hers. She squeezed his hand.
"You guys should focus on Thornhill. The guy is going to cause trouble, especially after today."
"We'll focus on that once we've dealt with what's important," said Granger.
"We can't un-ring the internal investigation bell," said Bates. "But we can get Rivera to go looking somewhere else and find a way to get you out from under this.
"Assuming that's possible," said Granger. "And putting aside for the moment that Deeks saved my life. Is obstructing justice something we want to be doing."
Bates interrupted. "Everyone makes bad choices, especially the kids. You can't pummel a guy for being young and incredibly stupid." The last few words were delivered with a strong sense of reprimand. "And that is exactly what will happen here, they're not going to factor in eight years of unimpeachable service, just one mistake. In any case, this is unlikely to get to a grand jury let alone a full trial. There's nothing the bosses fear more than a bad headline and Deeks has put away too many guys to throw under the bus for a some stolen money. But that doesn't mean Deeks would survive an internal trial board, especially if Rivera threatens to leaks this to the press when she gets shut down."
"A rather cogent analysis," Granger said.
"You don't make lieutenant in a byzantine organisation like the LAPD without the ability to read the future," said Bates. "You should see the guys who make Deputy Chief."
"They can't fire him without burning every case he's ever worked," said Kensi.
"No, but the general orders are 1200 pages long; they can find plenty of things to fire me for in there," said Deeks.
"This is why you never became an agent isn't it? You knew this would come out," said Kensi.
"We'll talk about it when this is over."
"The point is that to IA Deeks is a means to an end. If we can give Rivera another means to get to her end, then there'll be pressure on her to accept Deeks' reconciliation."
"So we just need to find the corrupt narcotics guys, give Rivera's bosses a chance to make her back down without it blowing up in their faces," said Kensi.
"Right but easier said than done, these are clever sneaky guys who will close ranks against any investigation. And you can bet they have friends who would love nothing more than to give them the heads up."
"So it's probably best if this came from outside your department," said Granger
"Oh, most certainly. But don't think people don't notice your tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. The moment we have them, you take it to Rivera and she makes the arrest. No dead cops."
"Not even corrupt ones?"
"As long as they have badges, they're cops and no one gets to shoot them. Not even a federal agent."
"We'll give you two a few minutes and then we'll get to work." Granger and Bates walked out of the room.
Kensi pulled him in for a long kiss. When they broke apart, she smiled but her face shifted to concern. "Are you ok?"
"That's what you want to ask?"
"It's the most important thing."
"I'm good, glad you don't hate me. The guy I stabbed?"
"You hit him in the kidney, he bled plenty, but he'll make it. You did the right thing." Deeks wasn't sure that was true. But he couldn't have let them die either.
"Are you ok?"
"I slept for a few hours on a couch in Bates office and I have about four awful coffees in my system. So I'm fine."
"But are you good?"
Kensi sighed, Deeks just looked at her, refusing to swallow her bullshit. "I feel helpless and I hate it. I want to get you out of here."
"You and me both"
"Are you sure you're ok?"
"You think I'm not?"
"You're a good man."
"I'm not so sure about that."
"I know, that's part of what makes you a good man. And you just got into a brawl in which four men were killed."
"They were going to kill other people. Who would I be if I just let someone die."
"That's why I love you."
"I love you too." They smiled and Deeks pulled Kensi in for another kiss.
After, there was an awkward pause before Kensi broke the silence. "So, corruption?"
"I was new to the job. The outsider, the only experience I had in legal and I was a public defender before that. I wanted to fit in. One day, the guys all took a cut of the haul. I took mine. Who's going to miss a few bucks. Then it was more than a few bucks, we would hit a place on a warrant and take nothing into evidence, even if there was plenty to be found." Deeks hung his head. "Then there weren't any warrants. One day, things went bad. People died." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I knew I had to get out. I asked for a transfer. Kept my mouth shut. Bates took me in because I'd done some undercover work as part of our stings."
"You could have told me."
"That, I tried to put it behind me. And I didn't want you to think less of me."
"We all have things we're not proud of."
"Your list of failings probably doesn't include theft and murder."
"You're not that person anymore, if you ever were. I know you."
"I think this has made it clear that you don't."
"I've spent almost every day for the past five years with you. I know who you are. And stop insulting me by saying I can't see through you. You're not that good."
Deeks chuckled. "Touché, Fern."
Kensi was silent for a moment. "You kept the money?"
"In a cardboard box in my closet under my comic book collection. I honestly don't know why I didn't get rid of it. I only ever used it when my Mom got sick. For what that's worth."
"When your Mom got sick?"
"Uh cancer, about seven years ago when I was first starting out in undercover."
"Hence, the deposits you couldn't pay her bills in cash. You don't talk about her much."
"She died and, well, there wasn't a lot to say that doesn't involve my dad in some way so..."
"I'd have liked to have met her."
"I think she would have liked you."
"Thanks." "That's why you don't get along with some of the guys at LAPD?"
"I think it was more that I used to work for the dark side and after, well, everything, I didn't really want to fit in, just do my job well. That and my tendency to use humour as a defence mechanism."
"I've noticed that." They sat together for a moment. "Is there anyone you can point us to for…?"
"Extracurricular activities. There were five of us. Sergeant retired when he got his twenty; Gary Hart, caught one in the throat two years ago; Hector Ramirez, but I think he was busted back to uniform for something; and Jonas Hodges, as far as I know he's still around, might have made Sergeant himself, leading his own team. He was the one who shot first on the 42nd Street Boys.
"You're going to have to tell me the full story on that."
I know, but it's not pretty. You should get going."
"You're going to be okay."
"Don't worry, I can take care of myself Fern."
"No it wasn't a question. You're going to be okay, we'll get you out even if we have to break you out and run off to Mexico."
"Thanks."
"Thank me when we get you out."
"I intend to."
Kensi smiled and shook her head. "I'll see you soon, partner."
"I'll be waiting."
A/N: Updates won't always be this fast, I just happen to have the Deeks-IA storyline mostly written. This chapter introduced a character for the next part, which is basically a series of connected case fics set in the same universe. Depending on what people prefer, I'll either do them as separate stories or just continue this one. Sound off in the reviews.
I guess this story could go one of two ways - either Deeks is exonerated and we return to some variation on the status quo, or Deeks is exonerated and loses his job and turns to a life of crime. (I realise there is a third option, but Deeks going to prison and being murdered wouldn't make for a very interesting story. Again, if you have an opinion one way or the other - or both - sound off in the box (not that one, shippers) below.
