Mexican Rose ~ 'Hell is empty and all the devils are here'
Chapter 10
Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects
"Meet Leah. This is the person Stephenson called, Kensi," Eric told the members of the team who now all had entered ops as he showed them a picture of a drivers license on the large screen.
"So… Leah Ryker?" Kensi mumbled, stunned as she was when she saw what Deeks had meant.
"So far for our 'angry Ana', Fern. 'Give thy thoughts no tongue.' Again, Shakespeare," her partner said.
"You—what?" Kensi reacted to those last words Deeks had recited. "Never mind though." She was quiet for a while, then sighed deeply. The copper red hair and slightly tanned skin did miracles to the green eyes and 'Ana Juarez' must have had difficulties with the nippy look and angry behavior towards them, since Leah Ryker's smile on this picture was so natural indeed.
"Deeks told us you met her before?" Nell looked at Kensi. She simply nodded, then Kensi asked "But why did Stephenson call her?"
"I tried to dig deeper into the digits of the phone calls. In vain, so far." Eric reacted to her question. "Stephenson made three calls to her number, that was easy to trace. We don't have her phone and although I usually don't need it, all the intel seems to be protected. Too bad, I know."
He sat down again and swiveled his chair towards his own screen and keyboard. "Google or other search engines found nothing on her. Do you think I should hack in some systems?"
A non-understanding stare of assistant director Granger, now taking part in solving this case, showed he would be far more rigid than Hetty when it came to matters like this. Before he could react however, a loud whistle sounded and they all looked up. One by one, they left the operational center and looked down over the cast iron railings, only to see Hetty Lange who had taken her purse and stood in the bullpen, looking up.
"Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks, your assistance is required at the boatshed," she said. "And Mr. Beale, I would like you to stay stand-by please. Meanwhile, Owen, you and Nell could see if there are any files on Manuel Santosa versus DEA."
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Somewhere
Judging by the light outside, Callen estimated it was about 6 in the early morning, before sunrise. And although he had figured out that he could be anywhere, observing how long the woman had been out, it felt awkward to see the large container was placed in front of a house on the corner of Rees Street and Trolleyway street, at such a short distance from the pier and the house he and Sam had visited.
Three heavily armed man, an empty street, himself and the female who was kept in there. He quickly glanced at her, once more assessing the chances of getting away.
Callen, known for keeping his face nearly unreadable, now drew in his breath sharply when he looked straight into the same green eyes that had mesmerized him months before, although she had belonged to the capturers of his team back then - Ana Juarez.
She managed to look away, though he read the same surprised look on her face.
"We all know the two of you met before. There's no need to hide it, miss Ryker," Ruiz Jiminez snarled. "Now, before we get moving, you get 10 minutes to refresh yourselves."
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Los Angeles || Rees Street
They had entered the house which clearly was not lived in at the moment. Most of the rooms they passed were emptied, only some basics were left. "Bathroom to the left", growled the only one of the three men who'd come inside with them. They entered a small bedroom with an annexed bathroom and right behind them, the guard shut the door.
"It's you. Why are you in here?" she asked in a soft voice. Callen noticed she was still shivering from the cold.
"I've got the feeling we can and need to talk later," Callen answered. He noticed the darker spot where the green tank top she was wearing seemed to stick on her body right above her waistline. He looked around in the bathroom where he found a first aid kit. "Let me look at that," he said as he motioned at what definitely must hurt her.
There was a flash of distrust. She swallowed once and then said "I can handle it myself."
Callen shook his head. "Don't think so. You need an extra hand and you might just as well accept two hands. No time to discuss, we should do this together. Whatever the plans of these guys are, we both need to be vigilant and watchful and try to find the right way and moment to get away."
She nodded and then looked at where she was hit by a piece of debris from the explosion in the safe house. She tried to pull away the shirt but flinched immediately after it. Then she opened the wardrobe in the room they were in. Some old shirts were still in there. "I'll clean it. There's a shower, I'll be quick. You can help to dress it after that," she decided as she closed the door.
Callen made some mental notes. Stubborn. Independent. Distrusting. Loner.
Then he tried to remember all about the case during which he met Manuel Santosa and Ruiz Jiminez, years ago.
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Los Angeles || Boatshed
Much to their surprise, Hetty had joined them at the boatshed. She and Kensi now sat opposite of two serious looking men who had simply introduced themselves as Homeland Security officers Roberts and Corey. Deeks leaned on the kitchen counter. The youngest one of them, Roberts, probably was the leader while the older man took the role of the observer.
"Our systems scanned the fact that your systems tried to breach the phone records of one of our special agents," Roberts explained in a quiet tone. "So I contacted your office."
Kensi frowned. "That phone call might have worked as well."
Roberts nodded, his brows wrinkled in worry and he shove back his hair from his forehead. "I'd agree with you agent Blye, but we came from El Paso to Los Angeles because we are looking for Leah Ryker ourselves. She was supposed to stay with some friends, we needed her for a new case and now we can't contact her."
Deeks suddenly looked up. "And those friends happen to be the Stephensons? You see, I don't believe in coincidences, yet they happen."
Officer Corey now leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "So you know Eric Stephenson? We could not contact him either."
Deeks wanted to react to this, but it was Hetty who did. She turned the telephone that was on the table to officer Corey "If you have his number, please try it for yourself."
Corey turned to his fellow worker. "Roberts?" The other man already scrolled through his contacts and then started dialing. The phone rang twice before it was answered. "Eric?—Beale—Uh-huh." He sighed deeply and then told the others "That guy asked to turn on the screen."
Deeks did what Eric had asked. He understood Hetty simply had wanted to check if these two officers knew Eric Stephenson indeed.
"Mister Beale, it is alright to show what we have," Hetty said and then she informed the officers "This is what our agents found at Stephenson's house." She let the disgust of what they had felt too when they saw what happened to the Stephensons fade away a bit, then she said "So, gentlemen, I think we have a shared case. What can you tell about Stephenson and Leah Ryker?"
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Los Angeles || Rees Street
She had a quick shower indeed, then stepped back in the small bedroom, dressed in the same jeans and a plain, black bra only. She held the shirt that she had used as a towel against her body and then leaned to the wall . She took a deep breath before she took away the cloth. "Ehm, Calder? Could you hand me that first aid kit?"
Deep inside, he swore when he noticed the injury. Instead he said in a gentler voice "It's Callen. It would have needed stitches, agent Ryker."
"Well, then ask those men if it's okay for me to go to the hospital first," she nearly snapped. "Listen, you told me you'd help, didn't you?" She looked straight in his blue eyes, then she was the first one to look away. "I'm sorry, Callen. I know, I noticed the gash is deeper and longer than I thought it would be." She let her hands go through her wet dark red hair that now slightly curled. "Have you checked if there's enough material to dress the wound?"
Callen nodded. "We should hurry, they'll probably be back soon." He worked quickly, not distracted by the fact he was touching parts of a female body that should be touched differently.
The woman was tough, though she kept her eyes closed and bit her lower lip, her body tense and Callen noticed she held her breath, trying to keep it under control.
"Nearly finished now," he told her, admiring the fact she did not whine at all.
"You've done this before?" she asked in a soft voice when she looked at how his long fingers put on the last bit of band aid on the dressing to keep it in place.
"Too many times," Callen answered. "Listen, what do you know about Santosa?"
Her green eyes opened widely, intense now. "I—I thought I was still groggy and misunderstood. He is around, isn't he?"
Callen simply acknowledged, then she continued. "I don't know anything about him, anything at all. It's just that—" she sighed deeply. "A friend asked if I could fill in for him for a couple of hours. A simple job, guarding a suspect in a safe house, accompanied by another of his Department of State agents and some uniformed guards. Santosa was the suspect and—"
Callen gestured to the door and signed her to stop talking. He grabbed the spare shirt she had taken from the wardrobe and handed it to her. Despite the fact that moving quickly must hurt indeed, she managed to put on the worn green-grey plaid shirt fast.
Seconds later, two man pointing their automatic guns at them forced them out of the house and into the back of a windowless van.
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Los Angeles || Boatshed
"Stephenson—Eric, was one of our special agents until two years ago. He then had a girlfriend and wanted a regular life and switched to less risky cases. The relationship ended but he kept his job nevertheless." Roberts told them.
"And Leah?" Kensi now asked. "Was she the girlfriend?"
Roberts snorted. "Oh, no way. Leah… No. Leah and Beth, Eric's sister—his now dead sister—were best friends. The three of them were always together. Leah is one of our secret weapons."
"You should tell them Leah had a rough period," Corey said in a soft voice.
"We figured that out already," Kensi simply stated. "There is just a piece of information we seem to miss. What agency are we talking about?"
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles
Callen knew he needed to remember the name of the moving company, 'Yelp', just in case. Once the doors were closed behind them, the van drove away. It wasn't that easy to stay seated in the back of this van. There were some standard blankets and a pile of moving boxes, kept together with the usual black wrapping tape. He noticed that the woman already managed to ease herself, her knees pulled up, but she had her eyes closed and seemed far away. "Ryker?" he asked.
Before he could continue, she simply responded. "Leah sounds alright to me."
"Are you okay?" he wanted to know. At least she sounded calm.
"Sure. As okay as I could be." She rubbed her forehead, then sighed. "Which route do you think they'll take?"
"What do you mean?" Callen asked.
"Tijuana, El Centro or Juarez, or even further? Or a plane?"
"You think they'll take us to Mexico? What makes you think so?"
"Ruiz. He and Webster and probably those other two, worked with Rubio."
"And Ruiz knows you're not Ana Juarez." He understood her worries. "Was your team bringing them down?"
Her green eyes locked into his blues, then studied his face as if she was trying to read his thoughts. "There is no team. I work alone."
It reminded him of the case they had with team Red, the discussion with Paris and the mess they found in El Centro at that time. It seemed years ago. "You mean you were in there alone, not knowing what you'd find?" Callen asked.
"Uh-huh," was all she said.
"Let me guess. DEA?"
Once again she carefully studied his face, not sure if she could trust him enough. "Are you DEA?" she then informed.
Callen smirked. "Not anymore. NCIS. Got used to work in a team, but back in the DEA days I used to work alone, sometimes undercover. It can be tough, I know."
"I'm Border Patrol," Leah answered.
He tried to read her face, smiled once again and said "I'll be damned. Bortac. Really? "
"Instead of playing Trivial Pursuit, we might think of how to get away from here. Jumping out of this driving van seems like a bad plan, but what if it stops?"
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Boatshed
"Bortac," Hetty repeated. "That is counter terrorism, am I right?"
"Bortac responds to terrorist threats of all types anywhere in the world in order to protect our nation's homeland," Corey simply clarified.
Roberts continued. "Leah Ryker was undercover over eight months until we had to give up the case without really wrapping it. We nailed the top of Los Zitas though."
"Dieciocho de Marzo," Kensi mumbled.
"The lifes of innocent hostages were threatened and besides, agent Ryker mentioned something changed when other westerns starting intervening." Roberts explained.
"So far for trust," Deeks muttered, "crede quod habes, et habes. Sam was right, something was wrong."
Hetty understood. "That team of Webster? By the way, agent Roberts, those hostages were far from innocent. It was my team."
Then she pressed the redial button on the phone. "Eric? Put us back on screen and have assistant director Granger listen as well." She waited until they watched the persons they needed on screen, then she told "Hank Webster and his team. I want them in. Find them". On that, she simply disconnected and said "There's work to be done."
Thank you for reading! Any thoughts, reviews or other comments are welcome