Dots, part 12


A/N Struggled with this chapter and re-wrote some parts several times. Well, hope you liked it, including the genuine short cliffhanger ;-)


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Office of Special Projects, Los Angeles || 4.15 in the afternoon

"Right, what do we have, Hetty?" Deeks asked when he and Kensi met with the others in the operations center.

The tiny boss gazed at him with a blank look and he knew she didn't appreciate his remark this time. She replied "What we have, Mr. Deeks, is a situation."

He let his hand go through the unruly blond hair which indeed needed a haircut. "Right. A situation," he repeated. "Any situation we should know about and which you are going to share, I assume?"

The gaze never left his face, and this time it was Sam who continued. "Callen ran into Zorgietto. Or at least, that's what we think. He called in, asked Eric about a suspicious car. Eric confirmed it's one listed to Zorgietto's car park."

"Zorgietto? And?" Kensi asked. She remembered the case as well, just as she remembered how the man had laughed wickedly at them, Callen who was closest and who'd been the one he addressed most directly 'that they'd meet again soon and it would be the other way around when that happened.'

Sam read the worries in her eyes, and he knew it was the other way around as well. He shrugged. "Tried to reach him but he didn't answer his phone."

"And you already checked at his place?" She then asked.

Sam shook his head. "No use. He's not at home and we know it."

Then Eric, Deeks and Kensi started to talk all at the same time and suddenly Hetty clapped her hands.
"Order, ladies and gentlemen." She paused a minute and then she spoke in a softer voice. "We need to summarize, to brainstorm. Leave out what needs to be left out. Try to find clues and find them soon. I'll give you fifteen minutes before you leave."
Despite the highly specs in the room, she pulled down an ordinary whiteboard, took a marker and pulled off the cap.

"What we have, you asked, Mr. Deeks, is what I am going to share with you. And what I want you to do is to brainstorm like you haven't done before."

She started to write - 'Roberts' 'Blake' 'Schiller' 'Callen' 'Zorgietto'. "I am going to add another name too, one Vanderhilt mentioned earlier. Gerald Keene. He's a former ICE agent. His name hasn't shown up in the system yet, has it, miss Jones?"

The young information analyst shook her head, making the ponytail in her red hair swing around. "Nope. But right, let's give it a go," Nell said. "Zorgietto followed Callen to where he is right now. Knew the spot, knew what Callen was up to."

Sam shook his head. "Impossible. I mean, he didn't even share with us. So why choose his enemy for it? Unless he was lured to a certain place…"

"Pretty sure he would have mentioned it," Eric stated. "When he called in, I mean. He would have asked for assistance. Instead, he was just as surprised as I was."

"Didn't Blake say something that Callen was intervening?" Kensi asked. "What do you think he meant? And wasn't it Blake who knew about the GPS tracker? He knew where Callen would be. Right? He could be the one who wants to deal with some unfinished business," Kensi surmised. "And so he follows Callen. Asks Zorgietto to do the dirty work perhaps. Like Blake wanted Schiller to do too, perhaps."

"He's in no condition to fight them off," Sam said with a grim face, not really listening to what Kensi just said. "We should be there to have his back."

"Perhaps I should have laughed away the rule that one should not investigate any case in which one is the direct object of that same investigation," Hetty mentioned, her voice sorry now.

Nell looked around. While Hetty was writing, she had put all kind of intel in her tablet that she added to the series of names Hetty had them thinking about. 'NCIS' 'ICE' 'CIA' 'La Eme'. Just to be sure, she added one more name: 'Marcia Schwartz.'

"You just said that Callen isn't in town. Where did he go? Where is there?" Deeks asked Sam.

It was Eric who responded. "Although he's last used his phone in here-" He tapped on his tablet and a map appeared on the screen which he immediately enlarged. He the pinpointed at it and said, "I just pinged it in here."

"You gotta be kidding man… It's one of the most scary places in California." Deeks exclaimed. "We all know that. Right?"
He looked around, shook his head and repeated "Right? We all know what happened to Laura Palmer, do we?"

There was a short chuckle from Eric. "This is real life, Marty, no tv-show. And yeah, true, Callen visited Twin Peaks. Pretty sure he never heard of the series. He used his phone in this place, the Christian Conference Center. Didn't drive his own car though, which is of course our car, I mean, NCIS property. He must have rented one. Anyway, Callen's phone was lasted pinged about two and a half miles west of it, near an abandoned motel on Rim of the World highway, called 'Cliffhanger'.

"Ha, and now you're teasing us, right?" Deeks shook his head. "Cause that's a cliffhanger indeed. We'd better start again. Thinking out of the box perhaps. What clues and what links do we have when we leave a name out of your list and add another one? Like skipping Callen, adding that writer."

"Getting us where, Deeks?" Sam nearly snapped.

The younger detective frowned. He understood how the large senior agent felt powerless right now, and still, they all knew time was their real enemy and there was something they were missing.
He smirked shortly. Callen might have seen the connection, but then, he wasn't around… He sincerely wished he could do the trick.
"So, like I said, thinking out of the box. Another try… y'see, Callen posed as Rogers. Word reaches Schiller that Rogers is still alive and he tries again. Blake doesn't want Schiller to talk and kills him. Like he plans to kill Callen too, knowing Callen is Callen. Why? Because Callen may be the witness of something else. What if Blake is after Macey Campbell, formerly known as special agent Marcia Schwartz?"
He looked around, expecting all kind of comments. Instead, they all were quiet.
"So?" he tried again.

Sam nodded and broad dimples appeared when he smiled gratefully. He patted the younger detective on his back. "So, assuming you may be right, we know who to look for and where we should look. I bet G already found out more than we have. We need to get going."

He didn't notice the relief on their operations manager, but heard her words "Do whatever needs to be done, mister Hanna."

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Twin Peaks || Cedar Brook Drive

Macey Campbell was aware of four things that happened nearly simultaneously. There was the sudden widening of the clear blue eyes of the man who leaned against the kitchen table. Then there was the warning yell of him and the window that shattered behind her. Within that same second she felt a sharp pain.

Then there he was, a mixture of concern and shock in his eyes as he floored her, late, too late to prevent any harm. With the fiercest pain there were several stinging hits in her shoulders and upper back. Glass from the window, she realized.

She didn't know what he did but she did hear him curse as she experienced another sudden sharp pain in her left shoulder. She expected a lot of blood, instead there was a tingly sensation.

"What?" her voice cracked and she blinked her eyes several times. It was as if she had too much to drink.

Callen shook his head. "A dart. Don't know." He knew it was useless to rub the spot where he removed the dart — whatever poison or drug was in it already entered her system.
There was no time for a conversation, no time to figure out how she'd know of Zorgietto, but it was clear for Callen that perhaps she wasn't the average writer or receptionist he thought she was.
"You able to move?" he asked.

Although he thought he heard a certain slur when she spoke, she responded with a "Think so."

"Stay low. Any chance we get out of here unseen?"

A nod. "Mudroom. Side-entrance. Neighbors garden."

Sure, it could have been unseen. They could have made it, but whatever it was that was affecting her reflexes, it made her sluggish. Had he been in a mint condition he would have supported her better so they could get away from whoever were after him — or probably after her, he admitted now.

He concentrated on the direction she said they had to go, carefully observing the surrounding. She followed, though slowing them down, and her steps were unsteady. Then she stopped walking, sway on her feet and he turned around, only to see her slowly collapsing.

"Damn." He cursed, though silently. Callen checked to see if and how he could get her back on his feet. By doing so, he let his guard down.

A mistake.

"Over here!"
The voice came from behind him and Callen saw a young man running in their direction, followed by another one. He cursed inwardly this time. No gun. No back-up. No condition to defend himself.
Not good.

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He'd been out cold. No matter he had simply tried to defend himself – it had been useless with at least four men who were in a much better shape than he was. Then somebody had decided to knock him off of his feet.
Somehow, they must have hit him hard, since he felt the dried blood on his forehead. Callen felt like crap.
He looked around and didn't have a clue where he was.
The place was clean and brightly lighted, but small, very small. Maybe a utility room in a new built house or factory, he figured. Definitely not his ordinary habitat.
There were windows too, but high up. Even now that he got up, he realized they were too high to peek through. The only thing he noticed was the fact that it was dark outside. Halfway April, so he figured it was past eight in the evening already.

There was some movement and soft sighing noises next to him and he was grateful to see that Macey also was waking up from her drug-related unconsciousness.

He watched her limbs moving incoherently. Her clothes which had been crisp were now shabby, dotted with small rusty spots from the shattered window. There was hardly any make-up on her face, Callen noticed. Not ladylike and a large difference from Joelle or Anna. But still very feminine. She was mumbling things he didn't understand.

Callen let his thoughts go over what had happened. If he had not been around, would she have survived? Had it been poison, or just drugs? Why would Zorgietto – if it were him - want her, dead, or here? He sincerely hoped that she was able to stay awake, so she could answer some questions, to clear some matters so they could plan… something.

She finally blinked her eyes several times before she slowly got up to a sitting position. Callen noticed how she let her gaze go over his face, and then lower.

"You're bleeding," were the first words she said.

He nodded — a movement he shouldn't have made since it made him nauseous.

"Not only your head. There's a fresh blood stain in your shirt."

He saw genuine worry in her eyes and she shove closer his way, reaching for the hem of his sky blue shirt.
He didn't let her. Instead, Callen watched his shirt himself. He had a pretty good idea what happened. He muttered "Guess some stitches broke. Still recovering, remember?"

He was annoyed by the fact he was this weak and that it had been as easy as it had, being overwhelmed like he was. Still, he managed to box the idea. It would be much better to focus on how to get away.
He asked in a soft voice "Got any idea where we are?"

Her gaze went from the shirt to his eyes, another shade of blue and then she scanned the place. "No. I haven't been here before. Of course not."
She tried to do the maths of the interior walls of the small room. "Looks like a prisoner cell, without the usual bed, sink and toilet."
She let it sink in. "What happened?"

"Should have seen it coming. Guess I… Well, we kind of ran into a trap." He blamed himself for the easy way Zorgietto or his men had gotten so near.

She shifted stiffly and stretched her legs. Then she tilted her head slightly and let out a deep sigh. "Guess it had to happen, someday. Perhaps I should have been better prepared after all. This Twin Peaks, well, it seemed like a great place to live. I was kind of tired of running", she said.

"Running… You are running, from whom?"

She chew the inside of her cheek. "A long story. Don't know if you want to hear. I mean, would it change anything?"

"Dunno," Callen replied. "It depends. When I mentioned Zorgietto, you knew who I was talking about. You know, I got the feeling you're more than just a writer. It's just a coincidence our paths crossed and that perhaps, we have a common enemy."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

San Bernardino highway

"You're awfully quiet Sam," Kensi said. "I mean, I get that you're worried now Callen doesn't answer his phone. But... you, me, us — we need to share, don't you think?"

He glanced at the rear view mirror, facing his co-worker. He simply huffed as a response.

After another silence, it was Deeks who said: "Yeah, we know, it's G we're talking about."

"Grisha." The dark brown voice of the man behind the wheel sounded irritated with the words of the younger detective. On the other hand Sam understood that his co-workers felt left out and were concerned just as well.
"He doesn't know what we know about this Macey Campbell."

"Do you think it matters? She'll tell him whenever it's necessary", Kensi stated. "I would, you know."

Sam nodded. "Let's hope so, Kenz... but we can't tell. This Macey suffered from amnesia, but there's more. Hetty and I spoke with someone who was working with her, this guy Vanderhilt. And after that, well, you know, there's more... those witnesses who heard her talk about CIA. You and Nell went through those files. CIA was mentioned several times, but her handler laughed it away at that time. He told everyone that she was still suffering from what happened. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Because of this period of being locked up, the knowledge of the betrayal and a near-death-experience. He blames it on some personal circumstances."

"Which definitely angers you, big guy." Deeks noticed.

"Kind of," Sam acknowledged. "I just Don't buy that, you see. That woman went through so much during her military career."

"Even if she would suffer from PTSD... Why would she lie? Lies don't fit with it. I'd get it when she's suppress her emotions. Not accusations like this."
Sam saw how she clenched her jaws.

"My idea, Kenz. After she left the hospital she was offered to stay in a safe house. Some weeks later, there were e-mails at ICE's office, telling 'they'd soon find her'. And—"

His explanation was interrupted by an incoming call.

"It's Eric," Deeks saw. He pressed the mic icon on his phone and replied "Hey there, what's up?"

"Bad news guys. There was a report from a local police office our systems ran into. A car apparently got in a sideslip and crashed some feet lower."

"And?"

"It's a rental. And it's at the same spot where Callen's phone should be."

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Twin Peaks || Cliffhanger

Officer Phil Emerson was waiting for them at the exact location he let Eric know — at the very same spot where Callen's cell phone was traced earlier by the technical analyst.

The grey Mercedes hit some of the high pine trees. Parts of the bark were badly damaged and the same went for the car. Although the road had been tarmacked like they were used to, and there would be evidence. Tracks, speed and distance, brakes – things which would be easy enough to find. But it would take time, precious hours. There was no time. Not now.
Besides, what would it mean for Callen? This was the car he rented, Nell had found out about it.

"What do you make of it?" Sam asked the officer.

The man shrugged. "Well, someone from the big city… maybe a deer crossed the road and he didn't know how to avoid it. Classic mistake."

Kensi shook her head. "Not possible. He knows how to drive a car, perhaps better than Sam does."

"But he's still recovering," Deeks said. "Perhaps he was tired. Influenced by medication."

Sam huffed. "C'mon Deeks. It's G we're talking about. He don't do drugs."

"Airbags inflated," Kensi noticed as she was inspecting the car. She took her black gloves and put them on, careful not to ruin any tracks. Rentals like this were mostly clean and nearly empty. She found what she didn't want to find. "His cell phone is still in here."

Emerson stood next to his car. "So far, I haven't found any signs that anyone was catapulted from the car. No witnesses. No… Well, nothing, actually. There's hardly any time left for any further inspection, because the only thing I know, being born in those mountains, is that it'll be dark in only a short period from now."

"Short as in…?" Deeks asked.

"Quarter of an hour, max." Emerson shook his head. "Suppose it is useless to continue any investigation in here. So…"

"So? Any suggestions?" Sam wanted to know.

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Twin Peaks || Cedar Brook Drive, half an hour later

Emerson had agreed on the suggestion of Sam to open the front door to the friendly house he led them to. "Will ask one of my team to come over and mark it as a crime scene. That is, if it's alright with you?"

"Says who. I mean, there's no prove that any crime is going on. Right?" Sam mentioned.

Again, the other man shrugged. "Just a suggestion and a kind offer. I thought you guys from the city would appreciate it. But hey… you're probably right. You need a hand? I'd —"
Another shrug when he noticed the three people from an agency he never heard of, were watching him in a way which made him feel like an ignorant civil servant. "Guess I'd better check if there are any traffic offenses."

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Kensi's final 'Clear!' came from the small bedroom.
Nothing so far. No inhabitant. It didn't make sense.

"Do you think Callen was here?" Deeks asked. "I mean, I don't think so. There's only some stuff on the sink for one person."

"You're right about that," Sam agreed. "Yet this woman isn't around either." He shook his head. "Still… this broken window. Can't figure out what made it break."

"Not a sign of a burglary. No pools of blood from a shooting." Deeks shook his head. "Maple trees, pines and Red-Woods, too many ferns. Dunno. I really wouldn't want to live in a place like this," Deeks muttered. "And there's this car. Crashed. Need I repeat the name of that exact spot, special agents Hanna and Blye? Cliffhanger. Cliffhanger… Any cliffhangers you can think of?"

They were silent now, looking around, carefully checking.

"Cliffhanger indeed," Kensi finally said as she spotted the bag which was placed on one of the chairs around the kitchen table. "There's this."
She held up the bag which contained a novel. "I left this bag, with this novel, with Callen in the hospital. We took the rest to the lab. This one, he was allowed to keep, remember Deeks? Guess he was here after all. But…"

"Before the car crash?" Deeks dared to ask.

"We'd better ask ourselves: before the car crash? Or DID the car crash… Somehow I get the feeling there's more to it," Sam said. He then kneeled and inspected one of the small pieces of glass. "See what I see?"

Kensi nodded and replied in a shaky voice "Blood."