Author's Note:
Yeah, so it ended up I did have time to update today. Like that's such a bad thing- another chapter for you! And the feedback is amazing! It makes me smile every time I get a new review or see the numbers on the followers go up. By the way, for the N.C.I.S. fans…the first episode is titled Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. (From the Military alphabet) Anybody else think it's quite the coincidence that it could possibly be Fornell's initials? Something Tobias (Tango) Fornell (Foxtrot)?
Anyways.
Disclaimer: Are Kensi and Deeks together? No? Well, I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles.
-C
"N.C.I.S.! Lower your weapons!" Kensi's voice rang loud and strong with conviction. In a second's notice, the other SWAT members had followed her in, circling the men in the center of the room.
Inside was a sight she would not soon forget.
Deeks was bound to a chair at the far end of the room, covered in vermillion blood. It was everywhere; steadily streaming from his mouth, dripping from a head wound, and blotching his shirt and jacket heavily. His head was lolloping forward; either unconscious or unable to hold it up any longer. One of Sidorov's men had a hot poker still raised, the tip glowing sickeningly. Behind Deeks was the Russian himself, hands on his weapon. Another one of his men was still holding a drill that was stained red.
Bile rose in Kensi's throat, but she managed to keep her eyes keenly trained on Sidorov. Callen and the other team joined them not a few seconds later.
"Drop your weapons!" Callen repeated forcefully.
Sidorov's men began to remove the semi-automatics that hugged their body. Lifting the harnesses off their chest, it looked for a moment as if they were going to obey. At the last minute, they opened fire on them.
Kensi immediately dove for the little cover there was. She toppled over a workbench and used that to duck behind while she returned fire. Two SWAT members had fallen from getting hit before Kensi took down one of the Russians. The SWAT members were alive, for the Kevlar stopped the shot. The burst of bullets didn't last long as the men were both killed.
When all was quiet again, Kensi reemerged to find her heart in her throat. Sidorov held a gun to Deeks's matted hair. In the silence, she heard the bullet click into place.
"Come closer, I kill him," he threatened.
Searing anger caused dark spots to dance in front of Kensi's eyes. She put a hand on her SIG, ready to pull the more accurate weapon if necessary.
"Make the wrong move and we shoot," Callen growled.
"No, you won't. You want me alive."
Sidorov ducked behind Deeks slowly. Only a part of his head was showing. Kensi knew that they didn't have a good shot, and he had the upper hand. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute. The main priority was to get Deeks and Sam to safety.
Glancing over to Callen, she could tell that he was formulating a plan in his head. But she decided to act first. Quicker than lightning, she drew her sidearm and fired not at Sidarov's temple, but at his exposed leg underneath the chair.
He cursed in pain, falling back as blood gushed from the wound in his lower calf. But before he could fire the bullet on Deeks, she was across the room in a few quick strides, followed by SWAT. Kensi made a violent stroke of motion, breaking Sidorov's wrist, forcing him to drop the weapon. But she didn't stop there. She had her SIG aimed in between his eyes, more than prepared to shoot.
"Kensi," Callen warned, coming from behind her.
"Give me a reason not to do it."
"I can give you a thousand. This isn't you. Let him rot in Guantanamo, Kens. Come on," he tried to reason.
She knew that the senior agent was right. Kensi lowered her weapon reluctantly, and let SWAT handle it from there. Moving around to face Deeks, she threw the weapon on the ground and cut his bonds with her tactical knife swiftly.
"Deeks, come on, wake up!" she ushered her blacked-out partner. Kensi put two fingers to his neck, searching frantically for a pulse. When she failed to find one, Kensi dragged him from the chair to the floor and began CPR, panic rising in her chest.
Pressing on his chest, she shouted, "Eric! Where are the ambulances?"
"They should be there any minute," Eric answered.
Relief flooded her as Deeks coughed, blood flying from his mouth. She propped his head up on her outstretched leg as she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to comfort her partner. He was moaning, guttural noises escaping his throat. Deeks's hands were clawing at the ground beneath them, expressing the agony that words failed to explain.
"You're okay, Deeks. Help will be here soon, you just gotta hang on," Kensi whispered.
He tried to open his mouth, as if to say something, but only more blood came pouring out, dribbling onto his chin. Kensi tore off her bullet proof vest and the jacket she was wearing. She held the fabric softly to his mouth, absorbing the blood before it stained him anymore. It was the first time Kensi felt helpless since she was fifteen and the military police abandoned the case of her father's murder. There was no way to ease his pain until the paramedics arrived.
The emergency medical technicians came in not a minute later, wheeling in three stretchers. Kensi was so focused on Deeks, she hadn't even noticed the sirens as they pulled up. They approached the two, shoved Kensi away, and lifted Deeks carefully onto the stretcher. Kensi knew that she wouldn't be allowed to ride the in the ambulance with them, so she didn't bother trying. She watched as Sam was also assisted onto a stretcher and wheeled away. At least Michelle had the privilege of riding with her loved one to the hospital.
Callen and Kensi were forced to stay until officers from the Los Angeles Police Department arrived and secured the crime scene. Kensi and Callen removed their equipment and stowed it away in the trunk of G's car. Only then could they head to the hospital. Kensi took Michelle's car so it would be in the parking lot for her if she went home later that night. Trailing closely behind Callen, Kensi anxiously tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. The sun was dipping below the city's skyline in the late evening.
She came too close to shooting Sidarov in the warehouse. Never before had her walled emotions flared so high. Kensi knew she couldn't afford something like that to happen again. Even if Deeks was involved. She hated how he was so able to break down her armored defenses and wriggled himself into her heart. And she loved him for it at the same time. Not even Jack had that affect on her before.
As Kensi pulled into the parking lot, she took a moment to breathe before seeing Deeks again. Because even though she was relieved beyond compare when they found their missing friends, it inflicted a new kind of pain to see them in that state. Callen already shut the door to his car and was waiting for Kensi. Pulling herself away from her thoughts, she joined him in walking through the front doors of the hospital. It had been approximately twenty minutes since the ambulances arrived with Deeks and Sam at the hospital. The receptionist stopped them from walking towards the emergency wing, but G flashed his badge.
"Agent Sam Hanna and Detective Marty Deeks. We need their conditions."
The plump woman typed for another minute at the computer before answering him. "They're in surgery. We'll call you the moment we know anything, but you can go in."
She buzzed them into the emergency wing, and they both filed in. In the abandoned waiting area, they both took a seat in chairs next to each other. Instead of reaching for a magazine, Kensi just sat and twirled her thumbs over the other.
Not even Michelle was in the waiting area, and briefly the question crossed Kensi's mind of where she was.
"How close did you come to actually pulling the trigger today?" Callen finally broke the silence after a few minutes.
"Too close. I know what you're going to say, so I'll save you the-" she began.
"No, I don't think you know what I'm about to say. You must care more about Deeks than I originally thought to do that."
Kensi parted her lips to say something, but she didn't know how to reply to that.
"It's more obvious than you think," Callen smirked. "That's your business, and not mine, but you can't do what you were about to do on the raid."
"Like you weren't about to shoot Janvier when you found out about Sam," she countered.
Callen shot her a look, but dropped it.
The painful waiting process had begun.
