A/N: Thank you all so much for the great feedback on the last chapter. I tried to make Granger a little more human and get inside his head without making him completely loveable. Most of you seemed to be ok with that; being in charge isn't as easy or fun as it seems.

We are getting closer to the collision between the team and Hector ... and what the 'ninja' is up to, well, you'll just have to wait and see.

Thanks a million guys, you are the best.

Sadly, I only own the characters I created in this story, not the wonderful ones that belong to CBS and Shane Brannon, long may he reign.

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Progress

Sam and Callen stood side by side behind one very fidgety technician and one preoccupied analyst as they furiously typed away on their respective keyboards. The two techs were so involved in their actions, they had yet to notice the two agents who had entered silently and were right behind them. Occasionally, Eric would glance over at his partner, just to see where she was in her work, and it was beginning to slightly annoy her. When she had caught him doing it again, she smiled softly to herself, thinking that even if it was annoying and silly, she found it cute. She just couldn't let him know that.

"Eric."

The blond tech's eyes snapped back to his own screen so fast his eyes almost got whiplash. He tried to keep his voice at an even tone, but it came out as a soft squeak. "Yeah?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

Nell bumped his elbow with her own. "You know what."

"I was just checking to see if your search parameters are wide enough to catch ..." He stopped talking when he felt her eyes, like a pair of high-intensity lasers burning into the side of his head. "Ahem ... okay, stopping."

She smiled softly at his embarrassment, touched by his boyish behavior. "Thank you."

Eric glanced over at her, his head cocked gently to the side. "Sorry."

"It's okay, one-minute-man."

Eric's eyes flew open and his face lost all expression. "That's not funny Nell, I was having a bad night."

"Bad night? You only lasted for twenty seconds and you had to take a thirty minute breather before you were ready to go again."

"I pulled my back when I fell on top of you."

Nell's eyes met his, her lashes batted playfully. "And you though it would be easy?"

Sam was nervously looking down at his shoes and Callen had heard way more than he wanted too. "Ahem ... what would be easy?"

They spun around, questioning looks on their faces. Eric had a totally lost look on his, but Nell quickly realized how their conversation would sound from a certain perspective. She didn't say anything but her smile was so big it actually hurt her face. It must have clicked with Eric too, he started turning beat red.

"I ... we were ... I mean ... it wasn't ..." Words seemed to be a major problem for the blonde tech at the moment.

Nell couldn't watch as her friend self-destructed so she jumped in for the save. "Paint-ball palace Saturday night. Eric and I went up against a couple of twelve-year-olds and they wiped the floor with us. They gave Eric the nick-name "One-minute-man" after he went out in first round in less than twenty seconds."

Sam and Callen both let out a long sigh of relief at the simple misunderstanding. Eric's coloring began to return to normal and Nell just shook her head at the way the older agents had started jumping to conclusions. Men and their one-track minds.

Deciding that now was a good time to redirect the group back to the task at hand, Callen pointed to their computer screens. "So did you have something to tell us or did you just want some tactical pointers on paintball?"

Both techs spun around in their chairs, their fingers instantly flitting over the keyboards. Nell spoke to them over her right shoulder. "Meet Juan Zappula, known member of the LAtin Kings; in and out of juvenile for petty infractions but has moved up to more serious crimes: robbery, theft, assault. His name and number were the most frequent one found in the call logs in the phones of the five deceased members of the gang."

"He also fits the description of one of the hijackers from the Semtex theft." Eric typed a handful of keys. "But on the night the gang was tailing Hetty, he had texted another member, David Vellegas, that his mother was sick and he couldn't go with them."

"He wasn't busted by our ninja and therefore, he wasn't in the van when it exploded." Nell nodded toward a picture of the destroyed corrections vehicle.

Sam moved up next to Eric's workstation. "So, a sick mother actually saved his life."

"Looks that way."

"Do we have a current residence on Mr. Zappula?"

Eric shook his head sharply. "No, we don't; he doesn't seem to stay into one place for too long."

Callen and Sam's expressions openly displayed their disappointment. Tracking the Semtex would lead them to Hector, hopefully before something else blew up. They needed that kid and they needed him right now.

Nell's chipper tone pulled them back to her screen. "But we do have an address for one Daniella Zappula, his sick mother."

Callen nodded to his partner and they turned toward the double doors of the operations center. "Nell ..."

"Sending her address and Juan's photo to your phones." Nell turned around but just caught the retreating backs of the older agents. She glanced over at Eric and let her smile falter slightly. "A 'thank you' would have been nice."

Just before they exited through the double doors of the operations center, as if he heard her, Callen called back over his shoulder. "Good work Nell."

Eric's expression fell at his work's exclusion but before he could think of a response to convey his disappointment, Sam called out from just outside the room. "You too, One-Minute-Man!"

All the other agents and analysts in the immediate area turned and stared at the blonde technician, most looked confused but some wore playful smiles.

"Now that was totally uncalled for."

Nell couldn't stop the giggles that started and just became worse the harder she tried.

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Word on the street travels fast, even faster than texting in some cases and because of this, Juan Zappula was scared out of his mind.

He hadn't slept at all the night before, mainly because he was sitting with his mother who was having a nasty fight with the flu, but also because he hadn't heard from the guys. She was feeling better today but he was hanging around, just in case she needed him. But now, he was pretty sure that he felt worse than she did. Earlier, a kid from down the block had just told him about the guys getting busted and now, he just got the word that they were dead ... all of them.

They had grown up together, went to the same school, lived in the same neighborhood, and now, there were five families that would have to bury another set of young men, long before they should. There were some who say that they got what they deserved, a bunch of street thugs that caused others pain and anguish ... good riddance.

But did those people really know the paths that had brought these young men to their early deaths? No, probably not. Did they know that Carlos, whose father would beat the crap out of him every night, would always have a silly story to tell that would make all of them laugh, even Guiermo? Guiermo, who had lost his little brothers in a house fire when he was only eleven? Did they know that Romero had been shot twice before he was even sixteen, that David had wanted to get out of the hood but a dime bag of grass under the passenger seat of his car had cost him everything? That Raphael wanted to do nothing more than take care of his mother but had watched her turn back to the meth again and again until it finally claimed her life between two garbage dumpsters in a dark alley? And that Manuel, the oldest and leader of their little group, had become like their older brother, taking care of them when no one else would. No, to the society around them, they were delinquents, trouble, unwanted, and there would be few to shed tears at their passing.

There were tears in Juan's eyes though, they had been the closest things to brothers he had ever had, they had protected him when bigger kids had bullied him because of his short stature, and right now he felt like he had lost a huge part of his family. If only we hadn't got involved with that bandito from Columbia! Holy Mary, Mother of God, why had we been so greedy! Stealing the Semtex had been fairly easy and killing the guard hadn't been part of the plan. If he hadn't tried to pull his gun on Romero, they would have made off with the goods and no blood would have been shed. It had sounded like a good idea to hold half of the explosives for more money so maybe they could finally break out of the hood and move somewhere where you weren't getting shot at all the time.

But now, his friends were dead, he had twenty-five sticks of Semtex that some crazy Columbian would be looking for, his mom was still disappointed in him, and he saw no way out. Those were the thoughts floating through his head as he looked out the front of window of his mom's house. He watched as little Jorge peddled his bicycle along the edge of the sidewalk as a stray dog ran along beside him. Across the street, Mister Estevez leaned out his front door and yell for Jorge to stop riding on the sidewalk and to get away from that mangy mutt.

That's when he saw a shiny black dodge charger parked across from his mom's house. No one in the neighborhood drove one of those and immediately, Juan's senses kicked in. The cops would be looking for whoever hit the explosive shipment and the loco dude from down south wanted his merchandise. He hopped up from his seat and he carefully moved closer to the window to take a better look. From this distance, he couldn't see if there was anyone still in the car and there was no one else on the street. Juan glanced to make sure the front door was still locked, then he made his way back through the house. He stopped just long enough to check on his mother; her fever was gone and she was sleeping soundly in her bed. He scribbled a quick note that he would come back and check on her when he could, before he kissed her softly on the forehead and headed toward the back door.

Juan scanned the empty garden behind the house before he eased the door open and nervously stumbled down the wooden steps. He moved toward the chain link gate that sat in the corner of the yard before he stopped again to take a look around. The charger was on the other side of the house, so even if there was someone watching the front, this side was completely obscured from observation. He slid the latch up and stepped in between his mom's and Mrs. Alvarez's place next door, letting the gate quietly click closed behind him. The bushes at the corner would hide him as he left the little path and if he could make it to the alley out back, maybe he could slip away and figure out a way out of this mess.

"Juan Zappula?"

Juan didn't even look in the direction of the male voice that came from somewhere near the front of his mom's place, he just ran as fast as he could away from it. He ducked his head, waiting for the gunshots that he knew were coming ... but they never came. He thought he heard footfalls crunching on the loose gravel and mutters of 'I'm getting too old for this' before the commanding voice called out, "Stop federal agents!"

The opening to the alley was only ten or so steps away and if Juan could make that, then a sharp right turn then maybe he could shake them in the backyards and empty lots that would be an insane maze to anyone who hadn't grown up here. A cunning smile formed on Juan's face as the alley moved closer and closer. Just before he reached his goal, a large, bald African-American man launched himself through the opening, effectively closing off Juan's only escape route.

Juan's feet skidded to a stop, gravel flying out from under his shoes just as the big man held up a large hand in the universal signal for 'stop'. Reversing direction as fast as any jack-rabbit, Juan spun quickly only to come face-to-face with another rather stern looking man whose steel-blue eyes froze the young man in place. Shoulders slumping and his chest pounding, Juan conceded defeat and raised his hands in surrender.

Sam moved cautiously up behind the young man, looking for any obvious weapons as Callen continued to give him the patented G. glare that could freeze boiling water.

"Juan Zappula, we need you to come with us. We have some questions and you, sir, have the possible answers."

Juan nodded slightly but his eyes never left the rather serious looking man with the intense eyes that held no real animosity. "Mister please, no cuffs, my mom might see." The man's eyes shifted to the one behind him, and an unspoken question was asked and answered in a millisecond. Juan felt intimidated by the two but he sensed no real danger as the big guy patted him down and the other just stood there.

They led him out to the empty street and to the shiny car, both of the agents close enough to grab him if he bolted but back enough to not raise any alarms from any observers. The big man moved to the driver's seat while the other agent opened the back door and let Juan slide across the seat before sitting in beside him.

As the Dodge Hemi roared to life, Juan turned to the man sitting beside him. The man appeared relaxed, but intense when he began to speak. "So Juan, what can you tell us about some stolen Semtex and a man named Hector?"

The man didn't seem to expect an immediate answer as he turned a looked out the window and Juan began to wonder at just what-in-the-world he had gotten himself into.

Kensi's silver SRX weaved through the afternoon traffic like a running back trying to score a touchdown in the last-minute of the big game. The sounds of car horns, irate motorists and quite a few obscene hand gestures flowing in the wake of the seriously aggressive dark-haired driver. She took a few unnecessary risks, followed a bit too closely, changed lanes without signaling and generally made all the other drivers on the highway a tad nervous. They were just glad when she passed them by without running them off the road.

"It's the slender pedal on the right you idiot!" Kensi yelled to the blue Volkswagen that was currently impeding her path of travel. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. She wasn't angry or in any particular hurry, this was pretty much just the regular "Kensi Blye Driving Experience" and she had been this way for years.

This was why so few people liked to ride with her; Callen, Sam, even Nell would always meet her rather than ride anywhere if she drove. Only Deeks seemed to have an immunity against the demolition derby that Kensi called 'driving'. He would usually make comments about near death experiences or being drawn toward the light. But as she did her best Danica Patrick impersonation, her partner just sat calmly in the passenger seat, idly staring out the window. He had been a little morose since they left the scene of the explosion and none of his usual banter or comments had been forthcoming.

Taking her eyes off the road for just a second, Kensi glanced over at her blonde partner. "Deeks?"

He didn't seem to hear her and she actually had the radio volume set at a fairly reasonable level. She spoke a little louder. "Hey Shaggy?"

Still, he seemed lost in his thoughts, totally unaware of his surroundings. She had rarely seen him this way; the last time was when his friend Ray had been in town and Deeks was trying to think of a way to save his life. She began to wonder what could be occupying him at the moment. Could it be the danger to Hetty? Kensi knew that the operations manager and the detective shared a peculiar bond that she didn't really understand. Maybe it was the explosion that they had witnessed. That had been a close one.

Kensi reached over and tapped him gently on his thigh. "You okay over there partner?"

Shaking his head as if he was coming out of a dream, Deeks momentarily looked a little sad but his goofy smile quickly returned. "Yeah Fern, I'm good."

Kensi saw immediately that his smile didn't reach his eyes and she knew that when that happened, something serious was going on inside that shaggy head of his. Her mind thought back to all that had happened in such a short space of time since that walked into the mission that morning: Hetty, Granger, gangs, a ninja, exploding vans ... it had been a long day and it was just early afternoon.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're thinking about or do I have to get violent?"

His smile got bigger and did actually make it to his eyes this time. Kensi was pleased that she could make him feel lighter considering the day they were having. Whoa ... where did caring about how her partner feels come from? Great, just great, their 'thing' again.

"Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?" He looked aver at her and the sweet tenderness she saw in his eyes made her turn away quickly before she got lost in his pacific blues. He apparently took no offense as he continued. "Just thinking about those poor guys back there ... they had no idea that when they woke up this morning, that today would be their last day on earth."

It had bothered Kensi too, she had just been too afraid to bring the sensitive subject up. Ever since that night in the boatshed when she had asked ... no, pleaded with Deeks to promise no to get himself killed, she had avoided talking about the dangers they faced everyday. Now, he was the one bringing it up and she had no idea how to change the subject. When he got like this, no matter how she tried to deflect away from the touchy subject, Deeks always managed to drag her right back into something she really didn't like discussing.

Before she could think of a segway that he would fall for, he beat her to the punch. "I just don't want to go out with regrets, you know?" Deeks mind went immediately to sunshine and gunpowder ... sunshine and gunpowder. But she's right there, breathing and alive and absolutely stunning. The mere thought of a world without Kensi Marie Blye in it made his heart ache and his stomach rollover. "Things that I didn't do, places I didn't visit," and then he paused and looked directly at her. "Things I didn't say."

Kensi almost wrecked the vehicle at that. Think fast Blye, he's getting serious. "As much as you talk, I would have thought you had said it all by now."

There's those communications skills she's so good at. So, that's how she wants to play it ... okay Fern, game on. "Aw come on Kens, aren't you glad that you reconnected with your mom? Isn't that a lot better than leaving this world without getting to say all the things you wanted to say to her?"

Kensi thought for a moment before responding. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I am glad I got to work things out with my mom. By the way, I don't think I ever really thanked you for watching out for her."

"It was a real pleasure looking out for Julia."

"Easy there, big guy."

Deeks had to grin to himself. "Not what I meant and you know it Fern, stop trying to change the subject."

Now she really didn't know what to say. Several ideas did flick through her head at that moment though ... hit him, punch him, poke him, elbow him. Unfortunately, they all involved her touching him, and right now, she knew that wasn't a great idea. She had recently discovered that when they touched, whether she was inflicting pain on him or just giving him a playful shove, she didn't want the contact to stop. He was in a serious mood and the wrong action could lead them into areas she wasn't ready to explore, not yet.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kensi kept her focus on the road, looking into his eyes would probably move her into DEFCON 3 status. "I just wanted to tell you I appreciate what you did for me ... I mean her ... I mean us." He couldn't hide the grin no more than she could hide the exasperated sigh that escaped her lips.

"That's what I do sugarbear, I'll always have your back ... always." The sincere way he said it touched her to her core and she felt the same butterflies start swirling around in her stomach. She knew he ment every word of his promise that night in the boatshed and she knew he ment it now. He would always be there for her ... no questions asked, no matter what.

There wasn't anything she could think to say other than a standard polite response. "Thanks Deeks."

He smiled warmly and then turned his head to look back out the window and watched the streets of L.A. roll by, crammed with the afternoon traffic and the heat waves that bounced off the pavement. The only sound in the car was the steady thump of the techno that poured out of the speakers.

"Davis and Bradley."

Kensi didn't quite catch exactly what her partner had said. "What was that?"

Deeks didn't turn away from the window when he spoke softly to her. "Those were their names ... Officers Bradley and Davis."

How he had remembered the names of the two corrections officers who he had just met that morning sort of surprised her, but then she remembered that was always his way. Deeks was always making sure he called people by their names. He would read their name tags or ask them if he had to and then he would remember them days, even weeks later if he saw them again. He had told her it made people feel better to be acknowledged in that way, instead of just overlooked. Kensi had at first thought he only did that with the cute waitresses or yoga bunnies that flirted with him, but she soon realized he did that with everyone he met, and it had touched her how sweet it really was.

"They didn't deserve what happened to them."

"No they didn't Deeks." The image of the van exploding just yards in front of her caused Kensi's anger at the senseless killings begin to boil inside of her. "We need to nail the bastards that are doing this before anyone else gets hurt."

"I'm with you on that partner." Deeks tried to sound confident, but he knew that they were at a serious disadvantage and things would more than likely get a lot worse before they got better. Sitting right next to him, Kensi pretty much felt the same way.

Seeing the uncertain look that fell on her partner's face, Kensi let her guard down and bumped his elbow with her own. "Hey." When he turned his pacific-blue eyes to meet her mismatched orbs, she couldn't hold back the silly grin that formed on her face. "How about some lunch ... you pick ... I'll buy."

Looking more like a kid on Christmas morning than a full-grown man, Deeks' face almost split in two. "Why Fern, I'm touched."

"Just tell me what you want for lunch, touched."

"The guys were talking about the fish tacos I got last week, that place is just around the corner on Second Avenue."

Kensi turned on her blinker, which surprised Deeks and all the other vehicles around her, and eased into the right-hand lane. The fish tacos had been rather good, even though when Deeks had asked if she liked them, she had responded with "They're at least edible, unlike those organic based peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that would choke a maggot." She had hidden how much she liked the tacos behind a stoic expression and he hadn't seen her when she stole part of Callen's off his desk and gobbled it up too. Kensi felt her stomach rumble as she thought about eating the delicious creations again, she just hoped her partner hadn't heard it too.

Deeks heard his partner's stomach make a rather loud feed-me-something-now! sound, but his snide comment was cut off when his phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He put the phone up to his ear. 'Deeks." A second later, he looked in her direction and confirmed out loud who was on the other end of the call. "Hey Eric, any news?"

Kensi focused on driving as she heard him 'mmmm' and 'yeah' his way through the conversation. And men say we are hard to understand? Geez. As she was making the right-hand turn onto Second, she heard him end the call. "Thanks Eric, we head there right after we pick up lunch."

"Sam and Callen found a surviving member of the Apple Dumpling Gang and are taking him to the boatshed to see what he knows about the Semtex and Hector. Granger and Hetty should be back in L.A. within the hour and Nell says to pick her up some of that shrimp curry she likes."

Kensi looked over at him. "Maybe we just caught a break there, partner."

"I hope so, but I've got a sinking feeling that this is going to get worse before it gets any better."

She couldn't refute his statement, these hit-men seemed to be one step ahead of them already and in their job, that could end very badly for them. "You may be right, Deeks." She looked out her window again. "You may be right."

As the Kensi's silver SRX sped down Second Avenue to Cedric's Fish and Chip's, it passed a small storefront that displayed a large neon sign that read 'Big Wally's World of Electronics'. On the locked door, there was one of those little signs that looked like a small clock. The big hand was on the twelve and the little hand was on the one with the words "Be Back At ..." stenciled across the top. Wally had walked down to the corner were he was now consuming a foot-long chili dog that had everything on it. But while his store was locked and there were no employees inside, it wasn't empty.

The man who had the appearance of someone who had lived on the streets over the last few weeks was currently sitting at Big Wally's computer, typing away at the keyboard. No one had paid any attention to the homeless man as he had staggered his way down the back alley where they also paid no notice as he gained access through the back door and defeated the rather expensive security system in all of fifteen seconds. Jordan Styles had tracked the burn phone recovered from Manuel Rivera's back pocket to Wally's store where it was purchased. Now he was hacking into the store's sales records where he had just discovered that at the moment the phone had been purchased, one exactly like it had also been bought at precisely the same time by the same person. They were paid for in cash and the name given by the purchaser was an obvious fake, but Jordan was there for another reason.

As he pulled up the phone identification information, an icon in the top left informed Jordan that the other phone was still active. That surprised the contractor, usually burn phones were dumped as soon as they were used, so this was unusual. This was the break Jordan was hoping for.

Typing a series of keys, he hacked into the phone settings and pulled up its assigned number. A few keystrokes more and now the burn phone that he had purchased earlier from another store had the same number as the one currently sitting in Hector De la Vega's front coat pocket. Neither of the burn phones had been equipped with G.P.S., that would have been way too easy, so Jordan had to come up with something else to help him locate the Columbian. When Hector's phone rang from now on, so would Jordan's. He had silenced the mike on his phone so he could answer when it was called but without any chance of any ambient background noise coming through. It was kind of a sneaky conference call but it had worked for him in the past and maybe it would this time as well.

Jordan closed out the file window, but another icon caught his attention, it was the photo taken of the purchaser by one of Wally's many security cameras. Eight keystrokes latter and Hector 'The Blood of Bogota's' picture forwarded to Jordan's ipad and phone. It wasn't like he would forget the face: dark wavy hair, chiseled cheekbones, flawless skin tone, and deep brown eyes, all the markings of a male model, not a vicious killer, but sometimes even someone with a photographic memory needed a hard copy.

Moving silently and methodically, Jordan quickly erased his presence from Wally's store and computer, knowing the game had just become a lot more interesting. The board was set and the game pieces were moving, he just prayed he was still a step or two ahead of the other players. Failure in this operation was not an option and Jordan would sacrifice almost anything for a successful outcome.

He moved to the back of the store and eased out into the back alley moments before Wally's security system reactivated. Walking to the end of the alley and making a turn to the right, Jordan pulled up Hector's picture on his phone. As he looked at the handsome Latino man displayed on the screen, he smiled as one word popped quickly into his head.

Gotcha.

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I promise that the action will pick up soon ... it just took longer to get here than I thought it would. Thanks for those of you who have hung around this long and for all of you who have followed/favorite my story ... that means more than I care to try and express.

Again, review ... critique ... correct ... whatever ... at least you're reading it!

Always Faithful!

JS