FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 2

-.-.- SAM HANNA -.-.-

'Mr Hanna. Please take a seat. You do look more like your usual self. Are you feeling better?'

'Yes Hetty. Thanks,' nodded Sam. She was right, he was feeling better. The pure oxygen he'd been given and the pills he took had done their work and he could breathe a lot easier now than a couple of hours ago.

'Care for some tea, Mr Hanna?' she asked.

'Water will be just fine, Hetty,' said Sam. He knew she valued her cup of tea and thought everyone must feel the same, but Sam hadn't put his lips to anything hot just yet. A cold drink was what felt best.

'Water it is,' Hetty agreed and brought him his drink. She picked up her cup, smelled the scent of the brand that Sam by now recognised as Ceylon, took a sip and smacked her lips approvingly before she put the cup down again.

'Mr Hanna, did Carpenter drive the van himself?'

'No,' said Sam, shaking his head. He recognised the opening of debriefing. 'He had a couple of men waiting in the van.'

'Hadn't you seen them?'

'No. The windows were darkened. It was impossible to see anything in the vehicle. Of course, I knew it was very unlikely that Carpenter was alone, but up till then we had merely concentrated on Alfonse.'

'Mr Callen mentioned a briefcase.'

'Yeah, it blew up. Alfonse was holding it, he got shot and it must have fallen from his hand. I guess there were some pretty heavy explosives inside. Blew away half the warehouse.'

'Whose was the briefcase?'

Sam needed to think to answer that properly. 'When we came in, Alfonse was holding it. But in retrospect, I believe he got it from Carpenter. Makes sense. Alfonse abducted Teena. To get her back, Carpenter had to pay and you don't carry that kind of money in your inside pockets, right? I suppose Alfonse thought the money was in there, but Carpenter had the briefcase prepared with explosives.'

'Mm,' said Hetty thoughtfully. 'But what would have happened if Alfonse would have opened the briefcase to check if the money was all there? From what you tell me it seems likely it would have blown up instantly. Carpenter could have been injured or killed if that were the case. He wouldn't risk that, now would he?'

The two held quiet for a minute, lost in thoughts. Sam tried to recall what happened and racked his brain for more details that he missed the first time. He shook his head. 'Sorry Hetty. That's how I remember it. It all happened so fast.'

'Yes, Mr Callen told me. The explosion, the van, the chemicals… What happened then, Mr Hanna?'

'After the van crashed through the doors? It took off. We were unable to stop it. Kensi came running out. Deeks didn't follow. The fire was spreading fast when we realised he wouldn't be coming out if we didn't go in to get him.'

Again, Sam paused to think. The memory had embedded itself firmly and brought chills down his spine. 'We went back inside. We called out for him. The air inside was horrible, hardly breathable. Kensi ran to the last place she'd seen Deeks before the racks started falling and we found him there.'

Found… Found was hardly the correct word. It had been a nightmare inside, the air thick with toxic fumes, the heat from the flames that ate their way through the cork-dry wood eagerly, the vision practically zero… and then Sam had stepped on something soft. Grey trainers. A left shoe. Deeks' shoe.

'Deeks!' he croaked when he spotted a lumpy dark figure on the ground. Coughing he crouched down next to Deeks, who writhed in pain and clawed with cramped fingers at his chest and his throat. He gasped for air. 'Over here!' Sam managed to scream, and felt more than he saw that Callen and Kensi appeared next to him.

'We dragged him out, Hetty. He was doing badly. Callen had trouble breathing, he had inhaled more than Kensi and I, so I called an ambulance.'

Again, Sam saw Deeks, blisters forming on his face and his right hand and arm, the skin swelling fast and turning ominously purplish red before his very eyes. He didn't want to, or couldn't open his eyes and seemed so overpowered by pain that Sam wasn't sure he was aware of the other agents anymore.

Sam had seen his share of injuries, but this was definitely one of the scarier ones. This was beyond a blow to the head, a cut or a fist in the stomach. His SEAL-training kicked in when he recognised what Deeks was fighting and he took his shirt off in a hurry. He ran to a rain barrel which, to his relief, was half filled, and dipped it in. Deeks, on the ground, fought to get air in his lungs. 'What is that stuff?' Kensi cried out as she copied Sam's actions. With the soaking wet shirts the two agents had tried to cool the radiating skin and bring some relief to Deeks burning arm and face.

'An acid of some kind,' grunted Sam. 'We must keep him cool. Deeks? Deeks, can you hear me?'

Callen, on his knees next to Deeks and Kensi, eyes running and hardly able to speak, croaked: 'He ...ugh...ugh… can't ...ugh...ugh… breathe.'

'Deeks? Deeks, listen to me! It's me, Sam. Listen to my voice. Hold on, buddy. Fight this, come on.'

Marty Deeks lips turned cyanotic. 'Deeks! Stay with us!' Kensi grabbed his uninjured hand and squeezed it. 'Deeks, don't you give up or I swear I'm going to kill you myself.' Deeks choked, every ragged bit of air he could catch prolonged his life as well as his suffering. Like breathing through one, tiny straw, Sam thought.

One hazed blue eye opened for just a few seconds, panic and shock clouding it. 'That's it, there you are,' said Sam. 'Now you're not going anywhere. Stay with us, focus. Ambulance is on the way.'

It was as if listening to a creaking door slowly closing. Due to the acid, Deeks' throat and air pipe were swelling up and shutting the way to his lungs effectively. His one eye rolled backwards in it socket, his eyelid fluttered and his head suddenly felt back.

'Deeks! Deeks!' cried Kensi and to Sam and Callen: 'He's not breathing!'

...

'And that's it, Hetty,' said Sam, shrugging. 'You know the rest.'

Hetty nodded, scribbled a note with a sharp pencil, pouted her lips and suddenly asked: 'Do you like Mr Deeks, Mr Hanna?'

For an instant, Sam thought he'd misunderstood. 'What?'

'I asked you if you like Mr Deeks,' repeated Hetty her question.

'Err… yeah… he's a pain in the butt, but he's okay.'

'Why is he a pain in the butt, as you so eloquently put it?' Hetty wanted to know.

Sam felt cornered. 'Because he is. He's socially inept, he doesn't fit in, doesn't seem to care.'

'I think you are wrong, Mr Hanna. Mr Deeks is a very social man, one who has been fighting injustice on his own for a long time. What you call social ineptness is an attitude which he has adopted along the way to prevent himself from going insane whilst being surrounded with corrupt agents. Have some patience with him, Mr Hanna. Mr Deeks wants nothing more than being part of this team, and he is willing to risk his life to save that of his team mates. That includes you, too.'

I know that, Hetty, thought Sam slightly irritated. It's just on ongoing joke. Deeks was the odd man out when he came, but he's proven his value and he's earned his place. At one point, Sam had forgotten that he disliked Deeks and realised the blond was a nice guy, really. Nevertheless, Sam had not been very keen on getting Deeks on the team at the time with Hetty going over their heads and he wasn't about to change his opinion any time soon.

His lack of answer made Hetty smile. 'You can go, Mr Hanna. Take the rest of the day off and relax. Come back tomorrow. Tell Mr Callen to go home too.'

'Thanks.' Sam stood up but turned on his heels before heading out. 'Hetty…'

'Mr Hanna?'

'He'll be alright, won't he?'

(tbc)