Timeline: Memorial Day Weekend/Late May 2012 - Marriage; Opening of Olympics/Late July 2012 - Escape; Labor Day Week/Early September 2012 - Explosion; President's Day Weekend/mid-February 2013 - OSP closes.

Chapter 10.

"I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter" - "In The End" by Linkin Park

Landstuhl Regional Medical Center
United States Army Medical Command
Landstuhl, Germany
January 26, 2013, 12:30PM

She was so beautiful walking down the aisle. He still wasn't sure how he got her to say yes - yes to starting a relationship to see what would happen, yes to taking it past 'partners with privileges,' "Yes, I will marry you, get up, get off your knee, everyone's looking." But she kept saying yes. General Watson, who told Deeks that Don Blye talked him into the best decision he ever made - marrying his Josephine, was honored to walk her down the aisle. The General also told Deeks that if he broke Kensi's heart, he'd answer to not only to the General but the 1st Marine Regiment.

The chaplain spoke about faith, hope, love and how the greatest of these three was love. Looking at Kensi, he knew, maybe for the first time in his life, someone truly loved him.

Then the beach exploded. And Deeks was awake again.

"You looked like you were having such a nice dream," Colonel Tina Carter said to him. "At least until the end." Colonel Carter was the head nurse on Kensi's ward and a woman not to be trifled with. She was pushing a wheelchair with his and Kensi's backpacks.

Deeks jumped up to help her with the bags but she was having none of it.

"Sit back down. I've moved two hundred and fifty pound patients who were dead to the world, I can take care of your luggage. Besides, you have four pins holding your left wrist together, that rather elaborate brace and watching to you move, you're still a mess from the explosion. Whatever you do, don't help. Though you're probably as stiff and sore from that chair you're sleeping in than from what happened." She signed rather dramatically as she pulled the two heavy packs from the wheelchair and dropped them on the floor. "I got you that cot to sleep in, Mr. Kennedy. You wanna help me, sleep in a bed."

"As soon as Kelly is awake, I promise. And it's Dean, please."

"Well, Dean please, Miguel Morales asked me to drop these off and to give you this note," Colonel Carter pulled a note out of her sweater pocket. "He was bringing someone to see Mr. Weiss."

"How is Ira?"

"The same," Colonel Carter's voice did not inspire confidence.

"What do you think?"

"I can't predict the future Mr. Kenn...Dean please. But he's alive and you have your first miracle right there."

"That's true. But you can't predict the future? I had you pegged as Nursetradamus." Deeks winked at her.

Colonel Carter smiled back at Deeks as she headed to the door. "I bet that's the charm that got you Mrs. Kennedy."

"More sorta wore her down," he said to both nurse and patient. Once alone with just Kensi, he asked her to wake up for about the hundredth time since they landed. There was also all the begging in what was left of the hotel's hall, the med-evac helicopter ride and the medical flight into Ramstein.

Kensi, as stubborn as ever, kept her eyes shut. Sighing, Deeks opened the note from Morales:

Mr. Kennedy -

Mr. Kort was on the same plane in with Mr. Weiss's niece Elaine. I saw him at the airport.

I am sure he's looking for scapegoats. Mr. Weiss will be first, you and Mrs. Kennedy next. Dr. Getz for being captured will make it a foursome. You need to be prepared.

I got your bags sent here from Army CID. You may want to check yours.

MM

Deeks walked over to the backpacks, stretching and working out the kinks as he did. Colonel Carter may have had a point about sleeping in the molded plastic chair. In his backpack, sitting on top of his clothes was his Beretta.

"Don't go anywhere," he told the still unconscious Kensi, "I'm changing out of these scrubs. Gotta look fine for my best girl."

In the room's bathroom, he was able to change slowly - remembering the last time his wrist was broken. This time his mother wasn't there to look guilty every time he needed help with shirt buttons. A pair of loafers packed at the last minute saved him the indignity of waiting for someone to help him tie his shoes. The waist holster felt good, almost normal.

"Still sleeping, Princess?" Deeks teased as he returned to the room, feeling better just by being dressed in his own clothes. Well, Dean's clothes. Walking to her bed, he continued his one-sided conversation. "Come on, the doctors said the head injury isn't that bad. I think you're paying me back for faking you out after I got shot. I totally had you, which was awesome and badass since I'd been shot like three hours earlier." Deeks leaned over her hospital bed and kissed her on the forehead and then lips. "Please," he pleaded quietly, "wake up, Kens. I need you. I can't do any of this without you."

"Mr. Kennedy?" Mike Morales popped his head in the door, "can I stop in for a visit?"

Deeks stepped away from the hospital bed. "Of course, Kelly here is so bored with my company she won't even wake up."

Morales pulled up a second plastic chair next to where Deeks had been sitting. "Any changes with Mrs. Kennedy?"

"No, Sleeping Beautiful here has passed all her tests. She has several hairline fractures to her skull, three broken ribs, torn cartilage around the ribs, bruising on her back. The door saved her from the fire and shrapnel but when it pancaked her into the wall, a lot of damage was done. She's strong. She just needs to wake up."

"She will. Strong, healthy woman like that, she's just recovering. I've been in a few explosions. Big trauma means big rest."

"How's Ira?"

"Not good. Everyone's still stunned he survived the explosion. He'll be 58 in March. A young man would have a hard time recovering. They rushed him back into surgery overnight. The doctors removed part of his skull to help with the brain swelling. He's..." Morales just shook his head. "His niece is here."

"That's what your note said. Isn't she's like a stats person for ESPN?"

"Among other things."

"Oh, for God's sake, don't tell me she's..."

"Elaine Stern is one of the more unique people you'll ever meet. She had a doctorate in some sort of advanced mathematics from MIT at age 21. Her graduate thesis was on rotisserie baseball and the lack of statistical offensive leaders on the 1998, 125-win New York Yankees. I've been a baseball fan my whole life, played fantasy baseball since high school and when she drops BABIP and VORP, I don't know what the hell she's talking about half the time."

"She's CIA?"

"Consultant. Consults with CIA, NSA, ICE, Homeland Security, even NYPD. Give that woman a situation and the variables and there is not a better threat assessment analyst around. She just does that between providing 'Baseball Tonight' Curtis Granderson's batting average with runners in scoring position at the new Yankee Stadium against right-handed pitching and writing scholarly analysis about why the Baltimore Orioles's Ken Singleton was the most under-appreciated ballplayer in the late 1970's, early 1980's."

Deeks chuckled. "And she's Ira's niece."

"Oh, is she Ira's niece. During the ride over, she needed to know if she could get Dr. Brown's Diet Ginger Ale and if there was any place here that made a good take-out Chicken Caesar Salad. On the other hand, if Ira lives, she'll kill him because pitchers and catchers report in about three weeks and she had to cancel her annual spring training pilgrimage."

Deeks was laughing now. "If she finds the ginger ale, give me a head's up. Coffee here is awful."

"Will do, sir."

"Look, Gunny, and I'm guessing you are not a gunny, you can lay off the sir stuff."

"I'm not a gunny?"

Deeks pointed to Kensi. "In between begging her to wake up and playing 'Let's Make a Deal' with God to see if divine intervention would keep her alive, I watched you get us out of there. I may not be as up on my military hierarchy as my wife but there have been just a few too many people saluting smartly and doing exactly what you tell them. I know gunnys are leaders of men, you're something else."

"Ira didn't tell me much about you two. Only said you weren't CIA but you had skills. You have skills."

"That's not an answer. And one of the skills I have is a degree from Pepperdine Law so..."

"Ira does collect the more interesting ones."

"Oh, he does. I wasn't expecting a California Corrections Officer to be chauffeuring me around Iraq."

Morales eyes opened wide. "Sir, Mr. Kennedy..."

Deeks looked around the room and whispered, "Deeks, Marty Deeks. You gave me the most complete explanation in the history of the California Corrections System on how to use the panic button."

Morales was obviously searching his memory, "Callen's hippie lawyer?"

"Not hippie, surfer."

"Same difference." Deeks watched Morales eye him head to toe. "So you're a lawyer doing this."

"Among other things."

It was Morales's turn to laugh. "NSA? Nah, not NSA. Not a good home for a hippie lawyer."

"Surfer."

"Callen was NCIS. You NCIS?"

"Nope. You'll go through a lot of the alphabet before you get to my organization. But that still doesn't answer my original question."

"Miguel Morales, Major, Marines. Gotta love the alliteration. Intelligence Officer," Morales extended his hand.

Shaking it, Deeks answered, "Marty Deeks, Detective II, LAPD, NCIS Liaison Officer. Or at least I was."

"So you're a hippie, lawyer, cop. Wow, is Ira good."

"Now I'm Dean Kennedy, businessman turned filmmaker."

"And Mrs. Kennedy?"

"When she wakes up, she can do her own introductions."

"Sounds like a plan. Speaking of plans, I have no doubt Mr. Kort is here to lay the groundwork for how his asset being a suicide bomber is Ira's fault."

"I can't see how..."

"Based on the CID forensic analysis of the blast, Ira opened Jafari's briefcase while the son of a bitch was in the head. I pointed it out to Ira while you were talking coffee because there was no way in hell we were getting on that charter flight with Jafari, a funky-looking briefcase and half a dozen JAG staffers on their way to The Ponce."

"You were suspicious."

"Sir, I've been in Iraq, Iran, Turkey, Armenia, Yemen, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, the UAE, Oman, the Philippines, Afghanistan, Pakistan, a bunch of countries ending with 'stan' and a whole lot more in the last eleven years and I'm still here. Being suspicious is a healthy life choice."

"Good..." Deeks's answer was cut off by a moan from Kensi. "Oh God," Deeks jumped up and ran to her bed.

"I'll tell Colonel Carter, she'll get a doctor." Morales bolted out of the room.

"Kensi," Deeks whispered in her ear, "wake up, come back to me. Nobody's rolled their eyes at me in days and I'm feeling unloved."

Kensi moved a little, Deeks prayed she was responding to his voice. "I'll make you a deal," he told her. "You wake up for me right now, I'll find you some chocolate, maybe get you a Twinkie. I didn't tell you this but I packed a box of Yodels in the film gear. I'll get them back if you just wake up."

Kensi's body jerked as Colonel Carter came to the door. "Mr. Kennedy, Dr. Jacobs is just finishing up with another patient, she'll be here in a second."

"Hear that, they're rushing doctors in to see..." Deeks was interrupted again as Kensi took a very deep breath and then yelped in pain.

Kensi's eye's opened wide. When she looked at him, she had no idea who he was. Of course she didn't, she was looking for Marty Deeks, he was Dean Kennedy.

"Kensi, it's me. Deeks," he whispered in her ear. "Remember, 'Extreme Makeover, CIA Edition?'"

Deeks saw Kensi sort it all out. Her eyes opened wide, this time with recognition. "Dean, honey, what happened?"

"That's my girl. I have missed you." He took her non-IV hand and kissed it. "God, I've missed you."

"Mr. Kennedy," Dr. Jacobs put her arm around Deeks's shoulder and firmly guided him away from Kensi and to Colonel Carter. "I'm going to give your wife a full exam, including some basic neurological tests. We're gonna need some time so why don't you get some lunch. Colonel Carter told me all you've had is three apples, gallons of coffee and a Jell-O or two."

"Glad you finally got some Jell-O, Dean," Kensi teased before turning to Dr. Jacobs. "The last time he was in the hospital, I ate all of his Jell-O."

Deeks smiled all the way to the door. Once in the hallway, however, he leaned on the wall and sank to the floor. And started breathing hard.

"Mr. Kennedy? Sir? Are you OK? Is something wrong with Mrs. Kennedy?"

Deeks looked up and saw a very concerned Morales. "Think I crashed a little."

"Let me take you to the cafeteria." Morales grabbed Deeks's good hand and pulled him to his feet. "We'll get some protein into you, can't live on coffee forever."

"Good, and while we're feeding Mr. Kennedy, I expect a full debrief Marine," Trent Kort said, walking up behind Deeks.

Deeks swung around, using the brace on his left arm to drive Kort into the wall. Holding the CIA Officer there, Deeks pulled out his gun with his right hand and pointed it at Kort's one good eye. "I am going to talk and you're going to listen."

"Let go of me." Kort tried to wiggle out of Deeks's hold but failed.

Deeks moved the brace on his left arm over Kort's windpipe. "I didn't say you could speak. Now, let's start again. I am going to talk, you are going to listen. Nod your head yes if you understand."

Kort was in distress but was able to nod.

"Good boy." Deeks eased off Kort's windpipe but kept Kort pinned to the wall. "I will be happy to speak to anyone at Langley about your asset who was a suicide bomber." Deeks was aware of some commotion around him but really didn't care. "I will be happy to tell anyone who will listen about how dismissive you were about this assignment, including some Senate subcommittee wondering where Janvier's payoff money went. I'd be happy to discuss the brave American spy who was sold out by his government and a half-ass rescue by you and the CIA with CNN, MSNBC and FOX News. I'll be sure to use your name over and over again. I'm guessing someone could find a picture of you, plaster it all over page one of the Washington Post or New York Times." Deeks took a deep breath. "And if I see you anywhere near my wife, I'll kill you. She said you were weird and creepy. Perhaps I can give my debrief to Gloria Allred for a sexual harassment lawsuit. The CIA would probably love her showing up for a presser at the Hay-Adams."

"That's ridiculous." Kort scoffed.

"Mr. Weiss filled a report just before he left for Baghdad." Morales was just behind Deeks's right shoulder. "He voiced his concerns about your demeanor whenever you were around Mrs. Kennedy and whether the Agency would be vulnerable to a lawsuit if you continued with this operation. He had a list of other agents and contractors who had issues with you in the past." Morales put his right hand on Deeks's shoulder. "I'll be more than happy to walk Mr. Kort out of the facility and then have a discussion with hospital security to make sure Mr. Kort is barred from this floor as a matter of Mrs. Kennedy's safety."

Deeks stepped away from Kort. "Keep him away from Ira, too."

"Elaine Stern was on Mr. Kort's flight. I'm sure he's already giving her a wide berth." Morales grabbed Kort by the arm, "And we're walking. I'll be back in a few minutes Mr. Kennedy, you'll definitely need some food by then."

Deeks leaned against the wall again but managed to remain standing this time. Closing his eyes, he started counting backwards from one hundred just to regain his bearings

"Mr. Kennedy?" Colonel Carter interrupted just as he got to sixty-three.

Deeks took a deep breath before looking at her. "I'm very sorry, Colonel. If I need to surrender my weapon to someone..."

"What weapon?" Carter smiled. "Put it away. Believe me, we've been instructed by our superiors time and time again that Mr. Kort is never here and we've never seen him. Why would today be any different? If he wasn't here, there would be no incident in the hall. And if there was no incident in the hallway, how would I know that you have a gun?"

Deeks put his weapon back in his waist holster. "Colonel, you truly are an angel of mercy."

"And Mr. Kort is a prick."

Deeks laughed out loud.

"Now that's a good sound to hear. When Mr. Morales returns, I'm going to get some food to Mrs. Kennedy if Dr. Jacobs says OK. You're going to the cafeteria with him. Are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am." Deeks watched her walk away.

"Mr. Kennedy?" Dr. Jacobs opened Kensi's hospital door a few minutes later and walked out.

"How is Kelly?"

"Excellent responses. She's alert, she's aware and she's engaged. We'll get her a little food. Tomorrow morning, if she's up to it, we're going to bring her downstairs for a PET scan. But Mr. Kennedy, so far, so good."

"Can I see her for a minute? I didn't get down for lunch, Miguel needed to handle a situation and I'm waiting for him."

"Just a minute. Remember, while she's awake, Mrs. Kennedy is still recovering from a significant trauma."

"Thank you." Deeks opened the door and walked back in. Kensi's bed was more upright though she was still reclining.

"What happened? Were we in a plane crash?"

"What's your name?" Deeks sat on the side of her bed, taking her right hand in his.

"My name?"

"Birth certificate name."

"Kensi Marie Blye."

"Who are your parents?"

"Master Sergeant Donald Blye and the former Julia Blye."

"Who am I?"

"Martin Deeks, Marty to some, Deeks to most. MMA fighter, LAPD, NCIS Liaison Officer, surfer, friend, boyfriend, fiancé, husband."

"Good answer, good answer." Deeks clapped "Family Feud"-style before picking up her hand again and kissing it. "What do you remember of Thursday?"

"Thursday? What's today?"

"What do you remember about Thursday?"

"We arrived Wednesday night flying in from London. Ira picked us up at the airport with Gunny, oh God, what was his name, Martinez?"

"Morales, ma'am." He walked into the room, giving a quick head nod to Deeks.

Kensi looked at Deeks, unsure about continuing. "I'll explain everything in a little while. The Gunny's on our side," Deeks told her.

"We got to the hotel, had room service. Watched CNN International and then went to bed. I, I, I don't remember..."

"There was an explosion," Deeks told her.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"You." He held up his left arm. "Me. The Gunny's got some bruises but everyone's alive." Deeks figured she had time to learn about Ira.

"I've got lunch for Mrs. Kennedy." An orderly brought a tray in. "And Colonel Carter wanted to remind you, Mr. Kennedy, that you were supposed to get lunch with Mr. Morales. And Mr. Morales, Colonel Carter told me to tell you 'ass in gear Marine.'"

Deeks kissed Kensi on the forehead. "I'll be back in a little bit. You eat and sleep and if you're good, I'll get you a treat."

Deeks and Morales walked down the hall and too the elevators, a similar trip they made over forty-eight hours earlier but without the nearly deadly results. "Did Ira really file a report about Kort?"

"Don't know. But I'll get his laptop from CID tonight, write one and backdate it."

"I like you, Marine."

"You're not too bad for a hippie lawyer."

Once in the cafeteria, Morales sat Deeks down and returned with two trays. Chicken, vegetables, small cup of minestrone, even some Jell-O made a perfectly nutritious lunch. Morales's beverage choice, Yoo-Hoo, had Deeks raise an eyebrow but all the Marine said was "Sixteen ounces of home grown goodness."

"What happens now?" Deeks asked once he was finished eating.

"Now. You, Mrs. Kennedy, Ira all heal. Jafari's got a one way ticket to Gitmo and if they threw his ass out of the transport over the Atlantic, I wouldn't mind."

"What about Nate?"

"Officially, they'll continue to look for him."

"Unofficially?"

"If Dr. Getz was to be captured, a trade could be made through back-channels. Dr. Getz for Jafari and one or two others the Iranian government would like back. All the men would be sent to a third country and the swap would be done there. That's if Dr. Getz lives that long. They'll get their pound of flesh for him lying to them."

"The Agency wouldn't run another..."

"Mr. Kenn...What should I call you?"

"Deeks is fine."

"Deeks, the Agency was embarrassed when it couldn't get to Dr. Getz before his name was sold to the Iranians. When parts of Makisig Cruz started showing up, they assumed Dr. Getz wasn't far behind. The rescue has always been a midlevel priority. I think they'd be fine if he was captured and a prisoner exchange was made."

"That's why this has taken so long."

"Look at Mr. Kort today. Didn't check on Ira, didn't check on Mrs. Kennedy. Wanted a debrief so he could start covering up for his mistakes and for the Agency. Ira mentioned to me he may have had a lead. I need to get his laptop not only for the Kort memo but to see what he had on it."

Deeks was relieved Ira mentioned the lead. Helped reassure him that Morales was an ally. "How long have you known Ira?"

"I met him on the streets of Baghdad in March of 2003. I was there with the 1st Battalion, one of the first units in Iraq and there's Ira. He was looking for a good shawarma and yapping on his satellite phone."

"Shawarma?"

"It is sort of a sandwich wrap with different meats. Ira likes the lamb. Walks blocks with tanks running through the streets, wearing a helmet and a bulletproof vest to find the one guy on one street that makes the best lamb shawarma."

"Yeah, that's Ira."

"My Gunny, who outside family members is the best man I ever met, said I should work with Ira on a few assignments. Summer of 2004, I'm on leave back in Greenpoint..."

"Brooklyn?"

"Yep. I'm sleeping in my old room at my folks' house when I get a call from Ira asking if I'd like a nice steak dinner at Peter Luger's. My dad made a good living and we did better than just getting by but there wasn't money for things like a dinner at Peter Luger's. Hell, three boys in Catholic schools growing up, there wasn't money for Peter Luger's steak sauce. Anyway, day before I'm supposed to meet with him, I get a FedEx package from the Marines offering me training and a position with MCIA. I ate the best meal of my life to that point while Ira sold me on a life in the intelligence field. I'd already decided that I was staying with the Marines..."

"You didn't always want to be a Marine?"

"Nope, ADA in Brooklyn would have been fine. Maybe I watched too much 'Law & Order' as a kid but I was in my final semester at St. John's when the Towers were hit. Finished school at my father's request and was on my way to Parris Island a week after graduation. You?"

"Wanted to be a cop, wanted to be a lawyer. Got to be both." Deeks looked at the clock on the wall. "Now, I want to get back to my wife."

"And I need to get to Ira's laptop. See what he had on Dr. Getz, make Mr. Kort into a candidate for a couple of sexual harassment seminars."

"Would Ira be OK with that?"

Morales got very still and spoke quietly. "Mr. Kort is not pinning this clusterfuck on Ira, especially when Ira can't defend himself. I know some people - some people who owe me, some people who owe Ira. I'm putting a team together and using his intelligence to rescue Dr. Getz."

"Is my laptop in my backpack?"

"Yes, sir."

Deeks pulled the thumb drive out from the thumb flap in his wrist brace. "Ira gave me this before it all went to hell. I'll e-mail you a copy. And when Operation Locate 'n Repatriate Nate is on, I'm in. So is the talented Mrs. Kennedy if she's up to it."

x-x-x

Fisher House
United States Army Medical Command
Landstuhl, Germany
January 27, 2013, 1:30AM

Deeks sat with Kensi after they both had lunch. She remembered nothing - not even the world's loudest hair dryer. She worked hard not to cry when he told her about Ira. He gave her a full run down about not-Gunny Morales. When Morales dropped by, she introduced herself as Kensi Blye, NCIS Agent and cop's wife. That made Deeks's day.

When Colonel Carter threw Deeks out for the night so Kensi could eat dinner, shower and rest, he went to see Ira in ICU. Only family and "chain of command" could enter the unit but a nurse got Elaine Stern for him.

Elaine Stern was a tiny woman. Not quite Hetty or Nell tiny but not much bigger. Maybe 5 foot 2, maybe 90 pounds. She wore a dark blue tee-shirt that read "Mo Knows Saves" with a New York Yankees logo and a fleece jacket with an ESPN "Baseball Tonight" logo. She spoke a mile a minute with mostly multisyllabic words.

Deeks was able to coax her to go for dinner in the cafeteria. He sat her down just as Morales did with him earlier in the day and got them dinner. She blanched at what they considered a Chicken Caesar Salad - "Tomatoes? Really?" - and teared up every time she spoke of "Uncle I."

She told Deeks she was briefed about the operation. Thought the rescue had a strong likelihood of success and followed it up with a series of multisyllabic swear words for Trent Kort. Deeks learned she even knew Nate. The two worked together on some threat assessment projects, Nate looking into the psychology of those making the threats, Elaine the variables behind the threats and the probability they'd all come together and work.

Morales set them up with rooms at the Fisher House near the base. Elaine was already taking an inventory of the food available and what meals were possible when Deeks made his way to his room. With both his and Kensi's backpacks in his room - compliments of Morales - he took a real shower with his left hand and arm in a garbage bag. Morales also left instructions on how to send Ira's files to him through the Marine's secured data cloud.

Before going to bed, Deeks decided to look through Kensi's bag. He found some comfortable clothes for her, a couple of pairs of socks - his feet were freezing for his entire post-shooting hospital stay. He pulled out her toiletries bag, a little worse for wear but mostly in one piece. He opened it and the international burn phone she picked up in London fell out. That's my girl, he thought as he tossed the phone on his bed. Forget creature comforts, Kensi wasn't that type.

Taped to the inside flap of he found a photo he never saw before. It was a couple of years old, he guessed. He was wearing a tuxedo, dark grey tie standing by the stairs at the Mission. Maybe the night they were on the Queen Mary, he thought. He remembered trying to put a night on the town together after the bad guys were in cuffs. He was willing to tolerate Callen and Sam all night if he could have some time with Kensi.

Kensi.

The clock radio said 1:30AM. He didn't need Elaine to figure out what time it was back on the East Coast. Picking up the phone as he sat on the bed, he took a deep breath and dialed.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line answered. After a pause, "Hello, Mom, is that you?"

Closing his eyes, he started, "Nell, it's Marty Deeks."

There was a loud gasp followed by an "Oh my God."

"If you're busy or something, I know it's a Saturday night there..."

Sounding a little choked up, Nell replied, "Oh, thank God you're alive. Is Kensi..."

"She's alive. A little banged up but you know Kensi, she's always fine."

"Oh my God. I saw the first intelligence report out of Baghdad and they mentioned injuries to Quicksilver and Xena and you two being medically evacuated to Ramstein. I tried to get more information but..."

"Let me guess, CIA shut it down."

"They're good at that."

"About the only thing they're good at." Deeks rubbed his eyes, exhaustion finally setting in. "Look, it's a Saturday night and I'm sorry I called..."

"No, I'm so glad you called. I was so worried and I just couldn't talk to anyone. I never told anyone..."

"Thank you for that Nell. Thanks for answering, too."

"Do you need anything? Can I do anything to help you?"

"No. I just... no, just forget it."

"Deeks, I want to help. What do you need?"

"I just needed to hear someone who gave a damn that Kensi and I were still alive. Someone who was OK with it, you know."

"Oh, Deeks."

"Listen, I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything."

"Get well, get Kensi well and come back. I can start telling people..."

"No! There's one last assignment. Then we're coming home and we're never looking back."

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