A/N: Normally, I feel a sense of satisfaction yet sadness when I complete a story. This time around, I'm just happy for the blasted thing to finally be over. This is the part where everything's supposed to be revealed and questions answered. It seemed better when I was first planning it out, but now that it's written, it just comes off as weak, in my opinion. But I'm determined to see it through. This story was intended to focus on character interaction rather than case mystery. I had a series of scenes and dialogue that I wanted written, so I simply created the story/case to work around them instead of doing a series of short one shots. I apologize for any and all short fallings.
This chapter has a lot of OC names and info that requires remembering from earlier in the story. (Lawton, Hawkins, Clive the Cashier, Nicholas James.) I tried to clarify who was who without out right being redundant, I hope it's all clear.
I had planned on this thing ending this chapter with an epilogue to tie it up. I lied, both to you and myself. Things will be tied up next chapter (hopefully the last).
I want to thank everyone that's continued to support both this story and me. It's greatly appreciated, and honestly, is probably the only reason I'm still writing.
Chapter 10: Secrets, Lies, and a Big Ole Slice of Humble Pie
Deeks pushes his finger into his ear, the cotton ball itching the inner wall, sending an unnerving tickling sensation right to his central nervous system. He had busted an eardrum, which had explained the sharp pain radiating from that side of his head. A quick exam, a promise to take it easy, and one cotton ball later, Deeks finds himself standing in the antechamber of the Fairview's Presidential Suite.
The view is pretty awesome, the city of Helena spread out beneath the six story hotel, blanketed in snow and what little light four in the morning will provide—so much different from what he's used to.
He works his jaw, much like Sam had done immediately after the explosion. The action makes his ear pop, and he can see the grimace of pain in his dark reflection as he continues to look out the window. The cotton ball itches again, tickling his brain, and if it weren't for the fact that it keeps out unwanted wind and noise, he'd have ditched it the moment the nice lady had shoved it in.
"Deeks!" Sam calls, and when Deeks turns around he can tell by Sam's annoyed sense of concern that it hadn't been the first time he had been called.
"Hmm?" Deeks asks, pulling on an interested face, his eyes widening as he tries for ignorant innocence.
"I asked how's your ear?" Sam repeats, saying the words slowly, emphasizing the movement of his mouth. Deeks smiles a little, once again adjusting the godforsaken cotton.
"I'm not deaf, Sam," Deeks tells him, consciously trying to keep his voice at an indoor level.
"No, you just can't hear," Callen scoffs, glancing at his watch and frowning. Waters had made the call for a technician to meet them at the hotel nearly thirty minutes ago. He gets that it's the butt crack of dawn, but seriously…
"I can hear," Deeks defends, easing his aching body onto the couch next to Callen. "I was just thinking." He looks up to Sam, smiling in hopes to seem believable. Honestly, he is having a little trouble hearing, but the lady with the cotton had promised it was normal, that it would eventually go away.
Sam, not taking any of Deeks' crap, turns his head slightly, muttering something really low. Deeks frowns, and before he can stop himself, he asks, "What?"
"Exactly," Callen declares, pointing at Deeks accusingly, catching him in a lie.
Deeks rolls his eyes as he leans his head back. "All this coming from the guy who was knocked unconscious."
"I was not unconscious," Callen says quickly, sitting up to look at Deeks.
"Dude, you were out. I saw you," Deeks tells him, turning when the elevator chimes. The golden doors open, Waters and a man wearing a dark blue polo shirt stepping into the antechamber.
"Are we really about to do this?" Waters asks, glancing once to the agent waiting by the hotel room's large double doors before addressing Callen, Sam, and Deeks. "You do realize if you're wrong, our careers are over?"
"You sound worried, Waters," Sam taunts.
Agent Waters levels him with an annoyed glare. "We're about to serve the Governor of Montana a warrant for his DNA, of course I'm a little worried."
"Don't forget we still gotta tell him you blew up his house," Deeks chimes in from the couch. The technician in the dark polo looks at Waters confusedly. Apparently, news has yet to spread.
Waters ignores the young man's questioning glance. "I'm glad you find this funny, Detective, but in case you haven't yet realized, I don't get to go back to California when this is all over. If you're wrong about all of this, as soon as everything really hits the fan, you three will be leaving, and I'll have to stay here with a pissed off Governor."
"We're not wrong," Callen tells him confidently, trying to be somewhat reassuring, because the guy's kind of making a valid point.
"Right," Waters says with a dramatic roll of the eyes, "because you managed to crack the one guy you just so happened to find. He was probably telling you anything he could to get out of trouble. Threw a couple of big names in the mix to get the attention off of him."
"Believe it or not, that thought had crossed our minds," Callen says, a little offended at Waters' insinuating that they hadn't thought of that possibility. "But he had too much intel, too much specifics for it to be made up."
Waters scrunches is brow, the large knot at his hairline jumping with the movement. "What intel?" he asks, sounding doubtful and curious all at once.
"Intel about everything Jett Hawkins and his crew's been up to the last few months, about why Jett really was visiting California, about why Kade Lawton really sent me and those four dead guys here." Callen stands from the couch. He's tired of waiting, tired of playing nice. "Turns out, everything circles back around to California and those missing Navy weapons."
"Which, incidentally," Sam says with a smile, "puts this back in our jurisdiction."
"What are you talking about?" Waters asks, his voice rising, his mind missing too many pieces to put the puzzle together. "How does the Governor have anything to do with your missing weapons?"
"See, that's what we asked, too," Deeks says, rising to stand next to Callen. "Then good old Nick explained it to us."
Waters still looks confused. "Nick who?"
"Nicholas James," Callen clarifies, "The militiaman we apprehended,"
"Try to keep up, Waters," Sam says, causing the agent to frown.
"The FBI tore the Lawton home apart. We have papers, plans, weapons—we went through everything with a fine tooth comb, nothing mentioned anything about California or the Governor," Waters says accusingly.
"They would have gotten rid of any hard evidence," Callen says, knowing as much, "Especially after they caught me reading their little notebook. That's why they moved the bomb to the mansion, figured I knew about them wanting to hit the capital."
Waters bites his lip, places his hands on his hips as he shakes his head, his eyes studying the scene out the large window. "You really expect me to believe that you got all this information from the one guy? That you just so happened to know what buttons to push to get the guy talking?"
"We know how to do our jobs," Deeks says, more than slightly offended. He gets it, the guy's nervous about taking down one of the big boys, doesn't mean he needs to be a dick to those that have his back, by choice or not.
"Oh, I'm sure you do," Waters says quietly, and Deeks isn't sure whether he heard the condescension or not. "But, I'd feel better about this if—"
"If the FBI had been the ones to find it," Callen guesses, earning an annoyed and guilty shrug. "You have what, twenty men in custody? Didn't any of them give you anything?"
An embarrassed and defiant glare is his only answer. Deeks doesn't need to hear to know that that's what's really bothering Agent Waters. "So, you're saying that we're the only ones to actually get any useful information?" Deeks asks, pointing between himself, Sam, and Callen.
When Waters doesn't answer, Deeks continues.
"But we only had the one guy," Deeks says, holding up a single finger for emphasis as he continues in a mockingly confused tone. "Surely, out of all the men who were arrested at the Lawton home, the FBI was able to break at least one. Right?"
"Doesn't look like it," Callen tells him, shaking his head with a false sense of sadness, a 'what a pity' look taking over his features.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing we were doing our jobs then, huh Special Agent Callen?"
"I say it's a very good thing, Detective Deeks."
"But don't worry Frankie," Deeks says, using the man's first name. "We know the FBI appreciates all of our hard work."
Recognizing his own words, the ones he had used at the end of their first meeting, Agent Waters turns away angrily, gesturing to the agent near the door, signaling that it's time to get the show on the road.
Warrant in hand, Callen, Sam, Deeks, and the silent technician follow the two FBI agents into the large room.
-:-
Callen watches as Waters and the other agent knock on the door separating the spacious living room from the bedroom. As expected, the Governor opens the door, his seemingly permanent angry expression in place, making Callen think all of those smiling campaign photos had been photo-shopped.
Governor Dempsey looks as though he's about to demand to know why he's being disturbed again, but stops as he notices the condition of the four men before him, the cuts and scrapes having had time to swell and blossom.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asks, stepping out of the doorway.
"We found that bomb," Deeks answers, his wind-chapped lips pressing together as he nods his head. Yep, we sure did.
"You fou…what?" Governor Dempsey mumbles, shaking his head in confusion.
Not really wanting to get into the whole 'sorry your house got blown up' spiel, Callen steps forward, the warrant unfolded in his extended hand. "Governor Benjamin Dempsey, we have a warrant for your DNA."
Yep, that smile had to have photo-shopped, because this frown, it's freaking epic. "What the hell are you wanting my DNA for?" Dempsey demands, his brow furrowed into one major unibrow.
Callen nods to the technician, and the young man steps forward, gloves already on as he wrestles the large cotton swab from its package.
"Why don't you sit down, Governor?" Callen suggests once the technician forcefully swabs the inside of the reluctant man's cheek. "We have a lot to discuss."
"I want to know what the hell's going on, and I want to know now." Dempsey looks pointedly from one face to the next, his face reddening with anger, and Callen is suddenly ambushed of memories watching Yosemite Sam blow a fuse on Saturday mornings, steam coming out of his ears as he tap danced his wrath.
Callen once again gestures to the extravagant couch, "Sit down, and we'll tell you." Governor Dempsey eyes him disdainfully, but does as he's told. Callen claims the large armchair across from the couch, the coffee table being the only thing separating the two men.
Phone in hand, Callen begins the interrogation. "Governor, when we first met, you told us that you had no past experience with Jett Hawkins, that you had no ties to the man or his group."
"That's right," Dempsey confirms, his politician's face firmly plastered in place.
"What about a man named Kade Lawton?" Callen continues, his thumb flipping through photos on his phone. Finding the one he wants, Callen turns the screen towards the Governor, his eyes watching the man's face. Other than a slight twitch of the eyebrow, an obviously controlled purse of the lips, and a carefully placed shrug, Dempsey gives nothing away.
"Never heard of him," the Governor tells them smoothly. Callen looks over his shoulder, sharing a knowing look with Sam. Once again thumbing through the pictures Eric had sent him, Callen continues with his questions.
"What about him? Any idea who this guy is?" Callen holds up the image of Jeffrey Hawkins, the man Clive the Cashier had told them was the father of both Jett Hawkins and Kade Lawton.
Governor Dempsey stares at the photo, that one eyebrow twitching again before he shakes his head, his lips pursing in implied confusion. "Should I?"
"I'd say so," Sam says, leaning against the armrest on Callen's chair. "He's your daddy."
Governor Dempsey shakes his head, that photo-shopped smile making an appearance. "Gentleman, you are mistaken. My father is Andrew Dempsey—"
"Lawyer who married you're mother in '58," Callen interrupts, reading from the file on his phone. "Funny thing, seeing how you were born in '56."
"Funnier thing," Deeks says, maybe a little louder than is needed, "That you were born Benjamin Goodwin. Isn't that your mother's maiden name?"
Governor Dempsey keeps his eyes focused on Callen, his peripheral vision taking in the surrounding FBI agents, his palms sweating as he begins to feel boxed in. "Andrew was my father," he insists. "The man raised me, he's the only one I ever knew."
"But that doesn't make him blood," Callen tells him. "Don't get me wrong, I know it takes more than shared DNA to make family, but it doesn't make for as interesting a story."
Governor Dempsey runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, his thumbs twisting in his lap. "Get to the point, Agent."
Callen leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he meets the Governor's eyes. "We know that your biological father was Jeffrey Hawkins, the same man that fathered Jett Hawkins and Kade Lawton."
"And you feel it was necessary to get a warrant to smear my mother's good name?" Dempsey accuses.
"We're not here to smear anyone's name," Callen corrects, "We're here about what you did when your brothers found out they had family in high places."
And suddenly, all pretenses go out the large, scenic window. Governor Dempsey's face hardens, all bull-shitting aside as he casts a worrying glance to the closed bedroom door, his wife hopefully sleeping soundly behind it. "I didn't have anything to do with them, or what they were doing," he tells them, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper.
Callen knows that Deeks hadn't heard, especially when he sees the Detective take a few steps forward, his brow furrowing as he studies the movements of the Governor's mouth.
"We know something happened, something that would piss them off to the point that they would try and kill you," Callen says, in the same tone as the Governor's. Deeks'll just have to catch up later. "If you want us to believe that you didn't have anything to do with their business, quit lying to us about knowing them."
The Governor looks away, watching as new snow begins to fall out the window, the wind sending it into crazy patterns. When he gives no response, no sign that he's about to confess, Callen speaks up again.
"Three months ago, NCIS got word about some missing weapons, faulty weapons that were supposed to have been destroyed," he begins, his tone sharp, lecturing as he explains. "The missing weapons traced back to a militia group based a few hours outside LA County. I spent three months working my way into the group, hoping to find the weapons before they got into the wrong hands. Less than two weeks in, I get shipped out, sent here to Montana to work with a man named Jett Hawkins.
"Imagine my surprise when I learn that Jett is the half-brother of the man who sent me here," Callen continues. "I was even more surprised to learn that Jett wasn't Kade's only brother."
Dempsey wipes the palms of his hands on his knees, his tongue darting out as he nervously licks his lower lip, his eyes studying the coffee table as he surrenders to defeat. "I don't know how they found out," he begins, his eyes still on the wood grain, "but about six months ago, I get a phone call from Kade, saying he knows who my real father is, knows all about a lot of stuff." Dempsey looks up, making it clear he's referring to stuff he'd rather not have known.
"He started in on how it wouldn't look good if the press got news that the Governor's daddy was an adulterous prick, or had two bastard brothers who were caught up in the militia." Dempsey laughs, the sound spiteful and angry. "They tried to blackmail me," he tells Callen, "wanted me to help them out."
"How?" Callen asks, already knowing the answer. Nicholas James had been willing to talk.
"With those blasted weapons," Dempsey snaps, losing his temper as he stands, running his hands through his hair. "Kade wanted me to use my influences, make it to where people wouldn't go digging or asking question when he and Jett started breaking down and selling military issued weapons. Right in my backyard! What were they thinking?"
"They were being smart," Sam tells him. "They're Navy weapons. There's no Naval base here in Montana. No one would be missing 'em, no one to look for 'em. No one here wants to piss off the militia."
"But we were all over it in California," Callen continues. "It would have been too risky to push the weapons in LA. We had the Mexican border on high alert. Sending them here was the smartest move."
"Break 'em down and scrap them as parts," Sam finishes.
"Yeah, well, I'm not a pushover," Dempsey tells them, reclaiming his seat on the couch.
Callen watches as the man tries to find his composure.
"That's why you started working the new legislation, supporting tougher gun control," Deeks says, surprising Callen. Apparently, Kensi's been teaching somebody how to read lips.
Dempsey nods, confirming Deeks' theory. "Kade kept sending threats, told me to back off, but…"
"You're not a pushover," Callen says, leaning back in his chair.
Dempsey runs his hands through his hair again, the tips standing on end. "I didn't do anything illegal."
"Nothing except lie to Federal Agents and impede our investigation," Sam corrects. The Governor at least has the decency to look a little ashamed.
"We're willing to overlook that if you'll help us out," Callen announces, and the Governor looks up suspiciously, yet eagerly.
"How?"
"Do you have anything that could help us bring down Lawton?" Callen asks, once again leaning forward. "Letters, voicemail, anything?"
"I recorded our phone calls," Dempsey says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "They're on my laptop at home."
Callen wrinkles his nose as he tilts his head. "You wouldn't happen to have kept a second copy somewhere else would you? Somewhere not at the mansion?"
The Governor looks up, confusion written clearly on his face. "Yeah, why?"
"Just wondering," Callen lies, absently scratching one of the cuts from the explosion.
TBC…