Mexican Rose 'Hell is empty and all the devils are here'
Chapter 9
Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects, early next morning
"Any news, Eric?" Kensi wanted to know. Although Hetty had surprised them by the new split up of the team, Owen Granger had not shown up yet.
Eric looked up from his screen and told the others "The BOLO for Callen that we sent out to other agencies did not bring out any hints, unfortunately."
"By now he could be everywhere, damnit," Nell exclaimed, which in fact shocked them all. Cursing was hardly ever done at ops and so far never by Nell. But it seemed alright now, in a strange way. They all were quiet for a while.
"So… What have we got so far on all the other things we wanted to know?" Kensi asked.
Eric then pointed out "Well, we need to start somewhere… This specific house at Trolleyway Street, it was used by the Department of State yesterday. Two of their special agents were accompanying a suspect of multiple crimes in there, this man," and, as he showed them on the big screen, "Manuel Santosa."
"Santosa was in charge of Los Zita's in our part of the country." Granger's voice came from behind them. "Good morning to you all," he added with a quick smirk.
"Morning to you too, Sir. So, Santosa did indeed," Eric took over again. "But five weeks ago, he went back to Mexico. Local government assume it was Santosa who was behind the latest prison break during which 42 inmates escaped. Guards were ruthlessly killed."
"Let me guess. He helped the Rubios escape?" Deeks cut in.
"Only fifty percent of them, Marty," Eric said, while grinning at the others. "Juan Rubio died during the confrontation of his guards and his liberators. Which earned Manuel Santosa a higher level in Los Zita's, by the way."
"And how come Santosa showed up in LA?" Kensi was curious.
"He showed up in Vegas, to be exactly at 'Bally's' where he mixed himself in a fight and was arrested. Once authorities in there found out who he was, they made no secret of having him around. Immediately after cartel members showed up in town and the CIA put him on a secret transport to Los Angeles," Eric explained. "Now, as I said, here in town, Department of State took over the case. CIA would have been too obvious."
"So, how come I've got a hunch that it wasn't a secret anymore and it still was obvious where Santosa was?" Deeks stated. "Those cartel members seem to pop up like mushrooms in autumn," he added. "What if they're in here too?"
"Not probable, but neither impossible," Eric thought out loud. "I think they'll get Santosa out of the country as soon as possible. We've got Kaleidoscope running, though, and Homeland Security watches with us. So far, we don't know if he's arrived in Mexico already or is still in the United States."
"The Department of State is a large organization. Any clues to which sub-department? Anything on the second agent yet?" Nell asked, then immediate took her own tablet. "Ah, I see. We had Noah Winter and Eric Stephenson on duty. Winter was the agent who got shot."
Kensi responded. "What if you and Deeks go and visit him at the hospital? See if he is able to tell anything. What's this Stephenson's address? Granger and I'll go and check it."
In his usual nasal voice, Granger said "You all know just as well as me that we don't have any jurisdiction and neither the CIA nor the State Department will be happy if we stick our noses in their business."
"Well, Owen, how come I would know this was about what I expected you to say?" Hetty interrupted as she entered ops. "I suggest you all forget those last words Mr. Granger spoke. Director Vance contacted the acting directors to discuss this matter and we were promised all cooperation in this delicate case. The CIA is not happy at all that they obviously lost a very important subject. The Department of State and NCIS—", she swallowed some times before she looked the others in the eyes, "we—both our offices lost some of our best agents, either because they are hospitalized or went MIA. So, I suggest we hurry up and get to work!"
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previously || somewhere
In the complete darkness, Callen was unable to find out who this woman was. She was unresponsive and in pain, that he knew, and in this cold container, she would be freezing if she'd stay in these wet clothes. Still, he was unsure when he decided to pull off the soaking sweat-jacket she was wearing anyway. Sure, he had undressed women before, but never against their will or, like now, somebody he did not know, without seeing what he did or without any fair warning. The movement of it all obviously was causing pain, since another soft whimper sounded. Carefully, Callen pulled her closer, zipped down his jacket and took it off, then tried to cover them both, hoping to keep each other as warm as possible.
He probably dozed off for a while when he woke up from her stirring from her unwilling sleep. Callen supposed she was drugged like he had been. It suddenly was clear to him that this woman must have been the agent Sam and he had been looking for. However, he could not figure out the reason of capturing and keeping them in here.
Where-ever here was.
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Los Angeles || Pico Rivera
"Next turn to the right," Kensi told Granger, who was driving the silver Cadillac. "7763 Cravell Avenue. According to the map, it's on the left, somewhere halfway this street."
There was no response from Granger, such a contrast with the talkative Deeks and the banter she admitted she missed so much. Now Kensi was the one to ride shotgun. "There's definitely no Hetty Lange in control of the LA agency of this sub-department of the Department of State."
"How's that?" Granger wondered.
"We were demanded to live closer to headquarters," Kensi said. "I wouldn't mind living here though."
Before Granger could react to that, Kensi's phone chirped. She looked at the screen. "Eric, what do you have?" she simply reacted.
"Nell just called in. Noah Winter died late last night. An cerebral hemorrhage, caused by the severe head wound he sustained in the explosion. She and Deeks want to know if you need any assistance."
Kensi looked up from her phone "Do we need assistance?" she asked.
"Who wants to know?" Granger asked.
"Eric. Ehm, Nell. And Deeks."
"I'd say we can handle this. After all, we handled the 'White Ghost' as well. This should be rather easy," he answered.
Kensi spoke directly in the phone again. "Got that, Eric?"
"Copy that. And Kensi, for your information, Eric Stephenson lived with his younger sister, Beth. Both not married, no kids."
"Even better. She might know where he is. Maybe he called her."
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Somewhere
She shivered and more or less unaware cuddled up to the warmth of his body, then suddenly appeared to be wide awake and she rose to a sitting position. Doing so, she winced in pain.
"Hush, take care," Callen told her in a soft voice. "Try not to move too much. Can you tell what it is that hurts you?"
Instead, she asked "Where am I? Who are you?"
Callen felt slightly unsure. What if others were listening? What if he was wrong about his previous presumption and she was not who he thought she was? Could he trust anyone, should he trust her right now?
"Gosh, it's freezing in here," his companion then said. He could hear her carefully sinking down against the same wall he sat, rubbing her bare arms as she tried to warm herself. "Wonder why these bastards took my sweater."
He paused shortly. "I'm sorry. I took it off. From what I felt and smelled, you took a forced swim in the ocean. All your clothes were soaked. And you were out for the last few hours, so—" Callen did not get a chance to finish his sentence.
"So you simply decided to undress me?" she scoffed. When he did not respond, she continued. "Who are you anyway?"
"I'm the one whose gun you kicked away, under the pier," he answered. "That was when I came looking if you needed any help after what happened."
Callen could almost hear her disappointment. "You were an easy target. Not only for me, but you should have been aware of others too."
"Yes, and thank you," he said, offended by her words.
She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. Sure you meant to do the right thing. It is just that—"
She did not get the chance to say what she wanted as the door of the container was suddenly opened and three heavily armed men entered in the doorpost.
"Get up, both of you," one of them shouted, "and get over here."
Callen blinked some times against the lights they shined inside the container. He got on his feet and heard how his female fellow prisoner slowly rose as well, behind him. He assessed their position and immediately decided that it was useless to think they'd be able to escape right now.
Behind him, he heard her sharp inhale of breath and a hiss of anger.
Then, one of the men addressed him "Hello, special agent Callen".
He knew it. He had been right all the time that something was off and only now, he remembered what.
The other man growled, definitely angry now "Why are you not surprised?!"
"Ruiz. He was the one who lost his temper the first time he saw me in Mexico. And the only one who introduced himself by his first name, assuming we'd be ignoring that. Ruiz Jiminez will always be following his hero like a servant, won't he, Santosa?" Callen knew he would upset his capturers but couldn't help it.
The punch in his face didn't come as a surprise.
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Los Angeles || Cravell Avenue || Pico Rivera
Granger walked behind her. Not on her side, like Deeks used to do. Kensi sighed. Well, it was because they needed to get Callen back, and Sam, so she hoped they'd soon close this case. Although her senior partners were no 'case'. Kensi could not imagine she'd ever work without them. During the last few years, some terrible things had happened to their team and still they managed to stay alive and together. So, even more than wanting to work with Deeks soon, Kensi wanted the team to be together, alive.
Another sigh as she was about to knock and announce their presence. Then, Kensi was alerted. The door was ajar. She motioned to Granger and he nodded.
"Federal agents," she spoke loudly, as she drew her gun and carefully entered the house, followed by Owen Granger.
The mugs on the coffee table in the living room were filled. Granger checked them. "Cold," he whispered. He took some rubber gloves and handed Kensi another pair. After they had put them on, Granger gestured at Kensi, he was about to check the rooms at the right, she could do the ones on the left.
On his 'clear' of the first of the bedrooms, she checked the kitchen. "Clear', she said. Then she opened the door to the laundry. "Shit," she mumbled as she overlooked the small and narrow room. "Granger, in here!" she then shouted.
There was no use in feeling if there was a pulse. Both people would not be able to tell what happened, since they were brutally killed, their throats slashed. Granger observed the mess that was left by the assassins of these two people. "Most probable the lady of the house. And from what I see, I suppose the male is indeed her brother."
He took his cell phone and stepped a little closer so he could keep the camera above the victims. Without disturbing the crime scene, he carefully stepped back into the kitchen, then made a call. "Eric? I just sent you a picture. As you can see, we need the coroner in here. LAPD would be welcome too. Please check out if this is Eric and Beth Stephenson in the picture."
Kensi went back to the living room. She tried to imagine what had happened. No traces of a break-in. Whoever did this, must have been convincing enough when he or they entered this house. Stephenson was supposed to be the one who would have joined Winter at the safe house, at least, that is what their operational leader had told Hetty. She bit the inside of her cheek. There should be a clue, somewhere, on why Stephenson was in here, supposing it was indeed him. Had he managed to escape and go home without telling anyone? Or was he never around that safe house?
The kitchen was like the living room, no traces of any violence at all. Where and why did that change? That's when she noticed a cell phone near the coffeemaker. She knew she could do two things. First, she redialed the number that was last used. Although it was not answered, she let it ring. And indeed, it did what she wanted it to do – switch to voice-mail. 'Hi, it's Leah. I won't listen to you now. Please leave your message as soon as you've heard me say Beep. Beep, guys. If I want to call you, or listen to you, you'll hear from me! Beep.'
Then Kensi took her own phone. "Eric? Can you find out which Leah owns cell phone 562-256-2739?—Yeah, I know you're working on the coroner. If you find out, please let me know. Listen, I'll take the Phone I found in here with me. I know you can do miracles with those things. Any possible shared numbers on their phones, things like that. And share with Nell and Deeks, will you?—Uh huh. Any news on Sam?—That's great, thank you!"
"Blye?" Granger asked. "Anything?"
She nodded. "This phone was around. The last number called belonged to a female called Leah. I've got Eric finding out who she is."
"A possible girlfriend?" Granger suggested.
"Could be anyone. Could be someone who's related to Beth as well of course." Kensi took the phone again and scrolled through the numbers. Nothing familiar. "Can't tell if it is his or her phone in fact." Her phone chirped, once again and Kensi quickly changed it. Not Eric calling. "Deeks?"
From the operational center, Deeks looked at the intell that had appeared on the large screen. "Kens? LAPD should be in there by now. I'd like you to share your thoughts about some things, so could you come back to headquarters soon, please?"
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