Bloodied
Karenin timed the knife thrust perfectly. When his pursuer stepped off the bottom step and headed toward the slowly closing door, his back would be open and exposed. The killing blow would come from a knife blade that went in his back, crossed through the lung and into the heart ... the victim would be unable to call out for help and would die mere moments after landing on the floor.
But as the Russian stepped forward to deliver the death strike ... the blonde haired man had somehow sensed his movements. Normally, it wouldn't have mattered and the outcome should have been the same, but the tall waiter, who wasn't really a waiter, had kicked off the second step with his left foot and spun in mid-air, effectively changing the dynamics of the attack. When he landed on his feet, he was now further away than Karenin had anticipated, so as the blade moved forward, his body wasn't where it was supposed to be.
When Deeks' feet touched the floor, the knife was already moving toward his chest but the attacker's arm was already fully extended and only the detective's own movement cause the blade to strike home. He felt the sharp tip penetrate into his chest, low on the right side of his ribcage. His right arm was already coming down from his spin and before the blade could be pushed in very deep, his elbow struck his attacker's forearm, pushing the blade down and out, away from his body.
Deeks winced as a sharp pain exploded on his right side as he stepped away from the man just coming out of the shadows. Using distance as his defense, the detective moved quickly to draw his own blade, silently hoping that all those extra sparring sessions with his partner would really pay off. He checked his peripheral vision, noting the confines of the small space and knew that this was about to get serious fast. The ceramic knife felt strange in his hand, it was lighter than a steel one but it was still just as sharp and, more importantly, just as deadly.
As his attacker closed with him, Deeks sidestepped around another thrust and brought his knife up and across the man's lower arm. He didn't wait to see if it had cut deeply, but a hiss of pain from the other man told him that he had done some damage. He kept his back to the stairs, knowing that if he had to retreat, that would be his best option.
Karenin whirled on his victim, silently cursing himself for allowing the other man to inflict a slight wound on his forearm. He was surprised that whichever agency this man worked for, apparently they spent an inordinate amount of time working with blades, learning to defend while also learning to strike with them. He struck again but the blow was deflected smoothly and then the man seemed to dance out of range once more.
Deeks was patting himself on the back for the way he was able to handle his attacker's strikes, but the burning pain in his ribs began to intensify and it was becoming more difficult to catch his breath. He hadn't taken the time to glance down at the wound and he thought that it couldn't be all that bad if he was still standing. But the more he exerted himself, the more his chest ached and the more difficult is was becoming to breathe.
Seeing his opponent's movements slowing, Karenin moved to take a quick advantage. He stepped to his right, feigning an across the body slash, and when the blonde moved to block, he kicked his left knee up, catching the other man low in the chest and causing him to stagger back against the wall.
The wound in Deeks' chest exploded with white-hot fire as his attacker's knee connected and he felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. When he tried to take a breath, nothing happened and the room started to spin to the right. Deeks leaned to his left to compensate and suddenly the floor shifted, causing him to fall back against the concrete wall in order to stay standing. A tingling started in his finger tips and he was afraid he was about to drop his knife. With more effort than it should have taken, he shot forward, swinging his arm in a wide arc that felt sluggish and slow.
Karenin easily stepped away from the man's clumsy attack and knew that the chest wound was proving to be more effective than he had first thought. It must have punctured the chest cavity ... maybe even a lung. He watched as the man struggled to catch his breath and he was gripping the knife so hard, his knuckles were turning white. A ragged cough and then a choking wheeze told the Russian assassin that he wouldn't have long to wait before the wounded man collapsed to the floor.
Callen flew down the stairs as fast as possible without losing his footing. He caught the corner of the stair railing and glanced down to see Deeks and a man in a black suit whirling around each other, blades in their hands.
"Kensi! Steele! Stairwell, parking level! Thompson ... Accordino, close off the exit to the parking garage." Up on the first floor, Kensi and Jericho whirled around and ran back into the doorway that had just come through and Callen was breathing too hard to hear the other agent's responses in his ear piece.
Deeks couldn't believe this was all happening ... it had only been a few seconds ago when this fight had started and he was quickly losing the edge he had at the beginning. His chest felt like it was full of lava and his hands and lips were slowly going numb. His ragged breathing wasn't getting enough air to his lungs and his muscles were starting to starve for oxygen. He heard a voice above him and he had the weird thought that St. Peter was already there to get him. He tried to raise his knife but the movement made him dizzy, sending him down to his knees, another wet cough shaking his already burning chest.
Seeing the blonde stumble to his knees, Vlad Karenin smiled as he stepped up to deliver a killing slice to the side of the man's throat. He drew back his arm and just as he stepped forward, another knife suddenly appeared in his vision. In fact, it was now sticking out of his right forearm causing his hand to involuntarily open and his own knife clattered to the floor. As he grabbed his wounded arm, he turned in surprise to see another man dressed as a waiter barreling down the steps toward him. Then there was a shearing pain in his leg as the man on the floor sliced across his thigh, opening a gash across the muscles of his upper leg.
Yelling in anger and frustration, Karenin kicked the kneeling man once more in the chest before he spun toward the door of the parking level. He could hear shouts from behind him but he was quickly through the door, the cut on his leg slowing him only slightly.
Knowing it would make no difference whatsoever, Callen followed protocol and shouted out to the retreating man. "Federal agents! Drop your weapon!" He didn't feel disappointed when the man did exactly what everyone always does ... turn and make a run for it.
Callen's knife throw had been a desperate action that he had hoped would at least distract the big man from cutting Deeks' throat, but he was stunned to see the blade flip through the air and strike home, sending the other man's knife falling to the floor. He wasn't sure why Deeks was on the floor on his knees, but he felt a bit of relief when the detective used his own blade to wound his attacker. The man in the black suit screamed and kicked Deeks to the floor before he fled through the metal door and into the underground garage area.
Just before he followed the stranger, Callen turned to check on Deeks. When the detective collapsed onto his side, the senior agent suddenly feared that he had been too late to save his friend. Spinning away from the door, Callen slid to his knees and heard the sickening sound of a man desperately trying to breathe, but who apparently couldn't.
"Deeks?" When a sickly wet cough was his only answer, Callen knew something was terribly wrong with the detective. "Deeks? Come on man, breathe ... just breathe."
"I ... I ... ca ... can't ... " Another wet cough-grunt escaped from a pair of pale blue lips.
"Ah shit Deeks! Come on man! Don't do this!" Callen looked down and saw the blood stain that was forming on the detective's shirt and a sudden rush of panic hit him. The sounds of running feet caused him to jerk his head up, fearful of another attack. When he saw Jericho rush down the steps followed closely by Kensi, he let out a sigh of both hope and frustration.
"Deeks is down ... tango went into the parking deck!" He snatched up Deeks' knife as he stood, moving toward the door as he pointed down at the wounded man.
Callen hit the heavy metal door, flinging it open as he hunted for the man in the black suit. Several yards away, he saw him duck behind one of the large concrete columns that supported the roof. As he sprinted down the roadway, he saw the other man cutting between a line of vehicles. Angling over to his right, Callen hoped he would be able to out-flank Deeks' attacker.
For a few moments, Callen lost track of the man's whereabouts and just as he stopped to listen for footsteps, the sound of a car's engine revving to life caught his attention. Seeing the exit ramp only a short distance away, he took off in that direction, intending to cut off the only way out of the garage.
Karenin slammed his foot on the accelerator and the Mercedes shot out of its parking space like a rocket. As he spun the wheel, he saw his pursuer running toward the exit and his only escape. Gripping the steering wheel with his left hand, his wounded right arm hanging at his side, he added more pressure to the pedal and the vehicle roared toward where Callen was heading.
As Callen leapt over the small retaining wall, he suddenly wondered what exactly he was doing ... after all, he only had Deeks' knife and the extra small blade strapped to his ankle to stop a speeding car. Looking around quickly, he spotted a large fire extinguisher hanging on the wall at the nearby corner. He crossed over and snatched the red cylinder off its hook and was glad to find that it weighed about forty or so pounds.
As a siren got closer and closer, Callen wondered if it was headed to where he had left Deeks. A fiery rage began to bubble up in side of the senior agent as the picture of the detective's pale face danced in his memory. A second later, a white ambulance with red stripes down the side roared past him on the entrance side of the ramp. He had just enough time to see the medic sitting in the passenger seat was a female with dark red hair before the truck raced around a row of parked cars and out of sight.
The sound of squealing tires echoed from somewhere in the garage, catching Callen's attention. Realizing he had little chance of stopping the vehicle without doing something really stupid, he hefted the heavy extinguisher onto his shoulder and stepped out into the middle of the exit lane. At the end of the first line of cars, he saw light reflecting off the chrome bumper of the vehicle he was going to do his best to stop.
As he whipped his car toward the clearly marked exit ramp, Karenin watched as the waiter who had been chasing him, stepped out of the shadows and stopped in the middle of the lane. The silver Mercedes careened up the ramp, heading right at the man who made no move to allow the car to pass. Karenin braced for the impact of the car versus the other man's body, but at almost the last instant ... the man side-stepped up on the sidewalk while he flung the heavy extinguisher at the car's windshield.
The car's glass windscreen shattered in a spider-web of fractures as the cylinder struck dead center before it bounced up and over the roof. The car veered sharply to the right, glancing off the metal guard rail, before the driver was able to regain control. Callen cursed softly to himself as the car continued up the ramp and toward the parking lot. Putting everything he had left into his legs, the senior agent followed as quickly as he could, hoping that the other agents were already in position.
"Accordino! Thompson! He's headed your way!"
Agents Thompson and Accordino were struggling to get their large vehicle over to the parking garage's entrance as they listened to Callen frantically calling for their status. They had been delayed for a few moments as a rather elderly defense contractor had become disoriented when an ambulance had roared by at a rather dangerous speed. They watched as the emergency vehicle disappeared down the very ramp they were trying to get to.
Finally, as soon as the contractor made a right turn and got out of their way, Thompson floored the SUV's gas pedal and they raced over, hoping they were in time. Just as their vehicle moved into the garage's exit lane, a silver Mercedes launched itself through the opening and glanced off the government vehicle's front end. Thompson yanked the wheel hard to the right but the other vehicle powered through the stop attempt and shot out into the above ground parking lot.
As Thompson slammed the transmission into reverse and backed up enough to begin pursuit, there was movement off to the right. Agent Callen suddenly snatched open the rear passenger door and jumped into the still moving vehicle. As the door slammed shut, the former DEA agent slammed the accelerator to the carpet and the Excursion's rear tires barked loudly as they gained traction, pushing the men back into their seats.
The silver Mercedes was racing toward the parking lot's entrance that opened up onto Vandegrift Boulevard, Thompson made a quick calculation and saw that they wouldn't catch it before it made it to the street. Turning sharply to the right, he drove the Excursion between two parked cars and over the cement wheel stops. The large vehicle bounced wildly and in the back seat, Callen's head bounced off the head liner, but before he could complain, he saw that Thompson's wild manuever had taken them out to the main street ahead of the Mercedes.
Karenin cursed loudly in Russian as he saw the black SUV cut off his escape route toward the main gate. Yanking the steering wheel hard over, he spun his car in the opposite direction. The fuel injected engine roared and smoke billowed from the rear tires as the silver vehicle shot north along Vandegrift, horns honked and brakes squealed as other cars tried to get out of his way.
"Eric ... I need Base Security ... he's headed toward Ammunition Road and possibly the Fallbrook Gate." Callen took a moment and fastened his seatbelt, incase another wild manuever was required.
Back at operations. Nell and Eric were both, literally, on the edge of their seats ... listening intently to all the chatter on the comm system, their eyes locked on all the video feeds that were available. "Calling them now G."
"Tell them they have a hostile tango headed their way ...silver Mercedes ... shattered windshield ... they need to stop him at all costs."
"Gotcha."
"Let them now we're in pursuit in a black Excursion and not to shoot us by mistake."
"Ten-four."
Karenin weaved in and out of the diminishing traffic as he turned toward the less crowded Ammunition Road, hoping the open road would give him a chance to put some distance between him and his pursuers. He was finding it a little difficult to see through the car's busted windshield but the road was fairly straight without much traffic at this hour. The appearance of the large SUV had caused him to change from his plan of exiting out the main gate but he never made a plan without a backup. The road he was on was less traveled and led to one of the back gates, this one even led out into the community of Fallbrook ... and plenty of opportunities to escape. He had another car in the Colony Plaza Shopping Center parking lot and that was only a few hundred meters from the base's east gate.
Speeding along, the Russian looked up into his rearview mirror and noted that the chasing vehicle was falling more and more behind. He smiled to himself, noting that the concern for collateral damage was once again, hindering their actions. Since Karenin had no such compulsion, as he started to pass a slower moving passenger car, he rammed the corner of his car's front bumper into the other vehicle's rear end, sending it into an uncontrolled spinout. This caused other vehicles to slow or even stop ... further clogging the road and slowing the people chasing him.
Callen looked up from the backseat where he was prepping the M4 assault rifle he had retrieved from the rear storage area, and groaned in frustration as yet another delaying tactic was employed against them. Thompson gritted his teeth as he slowly worked his vehicle through the wreck scene until they were clear, then he put the pedal down and they took off once more.
Up ahead, they noted they had lost sight of the silver Mercedes as the road curved away to the right. The black SUV rocketed along the pavement until they passed through the curve and they caught sight of the target vehicle once more as it closed on the base gate.
Eric's voice crackled over the agent's ear bud. "Callen ... the guards have shut down the road and have activated the gate's Vehicle Deterrent System."
"Copy that Eric, thanks."
Callen leaned over so he could see between Accordino and Thompson and watched as the silver Mercedes continued on its path toward the gate. Several large metal cylinders were visible sticking up from the roadway at the gate, they were designed to prevent any sized vehicle from entering or exiting the base without authorization.
Agent Accordino spoke over his left shoulder. "If he hits those pillars ... he won't make it very far."
"Let's hope you're right ... but as soon as we stop, fan out and cover that car."
Thompson and Accordino nodded and spoke together. "You got it."
Callen began to wonder what the other vehicle's driver was planning, thinking that he would swerve off to the side at the last moment and maybe try to shoot his way past the guards. Several options went through his mind but they all stopped as the silver car never veered an inch, it just plowed straight into the gate's defenses.
The Mercedes' front end crumpled in a loud crash of metal and steel when it impacted the alloy reinforced cylinders that would stop a full cement truck in its tracks. Glass and chunks of metal flew through the air as the gate guards covered their faces with their gloved hands. A cloud of steam and smoke billowed from the destroyed engine that slowly sputtered and died.
Four Marine guards, their rifles held tight into their shoulders approached the wrecked vehicle. They paused and turned toward what might be another threat when a black Excursion squealed to a stop and three men piled out.
"NCIS! NCIS! Hold your fire!" Callen carefully jogged to the front, his badge held up high so the three of them wouldn't fall victim to a 'friendly fire' incident. "We're in pursuit of this vehicle and need the driver alive, if possible." A Marine corporal, who was leading the security team, nodded and then they all turned their weapons on the destroyed Mercedes.
Moving slightly in front of the Marines, Callen locked his rifle on the driver's side door while agents Thompson and Accordino flanked to the right, covering the passenger side. The air bags had deployed and a white cloud hovered over the passenger compartment, obscuring any indication of the driver's condition.
Callen held his rifle tight in his shoulder as the Marine corporal inched up to the driver's door, a pistol in his right hand. He gripped the door handle and looked back at the NCIS agent, who nodded quickly. He snatched the door open only to show an empty driver's seat, a short metal pipe holding the gas pedal down and bungee cord wrapped around the steering wheel, holding it in place.
The Marines and agents searched the rest of the vehicle, including the trunk, with no success. Callen sighed heavily and glanced back down the road, realizing that there had been plenty of locations where the driver could have pulled over, rigged the car and disappeared into the night. He heard the Marine corporal calling over his radio for other units to proceed to the area and begin a search.
Turning back to his agents, Callen let his rifle hang loosely at his chest. "Eric ... we lost him ... get on the street cameras outside the base ... maybe you'll get something."
"You got it G."
Signalling for Accordino and Thompson to join him, Callen waited until they were close enough to hear him. "You two secure that vehicle and the scene, I'll head back and check on Deeks ... don't let anyone touch it until our techs can go over it."
Dino nodded, his rifle still clutched in his hands. "You got it boss man."
Callen watched them walk over to the smoking vehicle before he headed to the waiting Excursion. The night had started off well, but now Deeks was injured, the mysterious attacker had slipped away, and they only hard more questions that needed answers. He eased into the seat and in a moment of frustration, slammed his clenched fist down onto the dash.
"Dammit!"
Taking a few calming breaths, Callen waited until the moment had passed before he put the SUV in gear and turned it back toward the Headquarters Building. He reached up and tapped lightly on his ear bud, he heard the familiar chirp as it activated, connecting him back to operations.
"Eric ... Nell ... do we have a status on Deeks?"
...
'Deeks is down' had hit Kensi like a freight-train, causing her to skid to a stop and drop to her knees beside her partner who was still struggling to breathe. For a moment, she was afraid to touch him but when he rolled over onto his back, she found that was exactly what she wanted to do. As she brushed his hair out of his face, her hand touched his skin and its coolness shocked her.
"Deeks! Oh God ... " She felt her stomach turn over as she took in his pale complexion and the blue tinge of his lips. Placing one hand under his head, she gently lifted him until he was resting against her thighs. She had hoped the movement would make a difference in his ragged breathing, but it only seemed to make it worse.
"Eric! We need medics to the parking level ... north stairwell!" Jericho had seen the ambulance that was staged on the far end of the parking lot on the east side of the headquarters building. All senior level functions got one incase some four-star general developed really bad heartburn that was actually a heart attack or someone took a nose-dive into the desert table.
Eric and Nell had monitored the agents' transmissions and were already ahead of the game. "They're already on their way."
Jericho dropped down opposite the brunette who was cradling Deeks' head in her lap, she was whispering to him, hoping to help him regulate his breathing. "Come on Deeks ... slow and deep ... slow and deep." Her words were calm but there was a frantic look in her eyes as she spoke.
With one strong tug, Jericho ripped the blood stained shirt off of the detective's chest, exposing a gurgling wound on his right side. He saw Kensi glance down at it and then she quickly turned away, her eyes fixed on her partner's ashen face. The NSA agent placed a hand over the small stab wound and Deeks winced in pain, grabbing at one of Kensi's hands.
"Ah ... hell Deeks, what have you done to yourself." Jericho mumbled as he closely inspected the small stab wound.
Deeks gasped a few times before speaking. "I prom ... promise ... no more ... running with ... sha ... sharp objects ... "
Kensi looked over at Jericho and she immediately caught the concerned look in his green eyes. He tried to seem calm and cool but the wound was serious, even if it didn't appear that bad on the outside. Tearing his eyes from hers, scared eyes pleading for him to do something, Jericho reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ink pen which he quickly dismantled, leaving only the thin plastic tube in his hand. He used his own knife to cut the length down to close to two inches ... he just hoped it was the right size.
Speaking gently down to the detective, Jericho leaned over and softly rubbed the wounded man's sternum with the back of his knuckles. "Deeks ... hey, Deeks ... you still with us?"
A deep moan was all that came from the man on the floor.
"Kensi ... " Jericho's voice was a soft but firm whisper. "He's got a sucking chest wound and it's causing a tension pneumothorax ... it's allowing air into his chest cavity but not letting it out, it's compressing his left lung and that's why he can't breathe. I've got to drain off the air so that lung can fully expand."
She looked at him as if he was speaking Greek, but she knew what he was talking about. Each agent went through a Combat Life Saver class every twelve months, so she understood what he meant ... she didn't like it, but she understood. As his words rattled around in her brain, her eyes fell to the plastic tube in his hand. Her eyes shot to his, knowing what he had in mind.
Jericho hated himself for the pain he saw reflected in Kensi's mismatched orbs, but if he was going to save their friend ... he had no choice. He leaned over again, placing a hand gently on Deeks' chest. "Deeks ... I've got to do something I'm sure you're not going to like ... it's going to hurt like hell, but it'll help you breathe. Just blink your eyes if you understand."
One or two quick eye twitches was enough.
Bending over until he was just inches away from the puncture wound between two of the ribs in Deeks' chest, Jericho placed the tip of the pen at the frothing hole. Closing his eyes and saying a quick short prayer, he nodded to Kensi who was holding onto Deeks with everything she had.
"On the count of three ... " Jericho placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.
Kensi nodded and Deeks let out a painful grunt.
"One ... two ... " Before he reached 'three', Jericho slowly pushed the plastic tube through the knife wound, right between Deeks' ribs. The detective's body twisted and he let out a horrible moan, Kensi looked up like she was going to shoot somebody.
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO 'THREE'?!" Kensi's words were harsh and frantic.
"I'm sorry Kensi ... but it kept him from tensing up and that would've made it worse."
When she looked harder at the big agent, she saw hurt and fear in is eyes and she realized it hadn't been easy for him to willingly cause pain to his friend. A simple nod was all she gave him before she looked down at Deeks who was trying to roll away from this new pain in his side.
Jericho was tugging on Deeks' belt-loops, trying to turn him onto his side. "Here ... ease him over ... it'll help."
Grabbing him by his shoulder, Kensi pulled her partner over until he was resting on his uninjured side. There was a wet gurgling sound from the tube and frothy red foam escaped as Deeks continued to moan. The sound of a siren could be heard in the distance, coming closer and closer.
"Breathe deep Deeks ... come on man ... don't quit yet."
Deeks heard Jericho's plea in his ear but it sounded far away. His chest burned and it felt like there was a telephone pole in his side ... but he listened to the words and took a slow deep breath. When the burning wasn't too bad ... he took in a little more air ... and then a little more. The rush of oxygen into his system was immediate and intense. As the air stopped coming out of the end of the tube sticking out of Deeks' chest cavity, Jericho placed a fingertip over the tube's opening to prevent any more air from being sucked back in, then when Deeks breathed in, he let the pressure bleed out before the process started over again.
Kensi watched as color slowly returned to her partner's face as he began to take deeper and deeper breaths. His lips slowly lost the blue tinge that had scared her so badly earlier and his eyelids slowly blinked open.
"Hey Fern ... fancy meeting ... you here."
Her smile almost cracked her face and the tears that she had stubbornly held back, fell of their own accord at his cheesiness. She leaned down and placed a warm kiss to his sweaty forehead as she fisted his tattered shirt.
"I can't leave you alone for a minute without you getting into trouble."
Deeks brought a trembling hand up to grasp her forearm, which he gave a soft squeeze. "Told you ... you should've ... taken me ... dancing instead."
Without taking her eyes from his, she hugged his head tightly to her.
"Next time partner ... next time."
The roaring siren shut off and there was the sound of squealing tires as the ambulance stopped right outside the room. Jericho placed the pen cap over the end of tube in Deeks' chest. Giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, he leapt to his feet and crossed over to the door, leaving the shaggy-haired man resting against Kensi's thighs. As soon as he pulled on the handle, two paramedics burst into the small room and immediately zeroed in on the wounded man on the floor.
The small stairwell was suddenly filled with activity as the medics worked on stabilizing Deeks for transport to the base hospital. One took a reading of his baseline vital signs while the other inspected the stab wound to his chest along with the small tube. When young red-headed female medic finished listening to the detective's lung sounds with her stethoscope, she looked up at Kensi with an inquisitive expression on her face. "Ma'am ... did you place this tube in his chest?"
Kensi suddenly felt confusion rushing into her, thinking that Jericho may not have done as much good as it had first appeared. She looked around but he had disappeared from sight. "No ... it was ... well ... it was another agent. Why?"
"It was a good move ... probably saved his life." The medic smiled warmly to the other woman then she began to place a small plastic dressing over the tube. "This will let air out but not back in ... he's got adequate breath sounds in both lungs, so I don't think either one is punctured and his breathing is pretty good for someone who was just stabbed in the chest."
"He's pretty tough ... " Kensi felt his hand tighten on her arm.
"If you guys ... keep talking about me ... like I'm not here ... I'm might get offended." His voice was a little muffled through the oxygen mask that they had placed over his mouth and nose.
Kensi squeezed his hand that had migrated to hers. "And he's kind of a big baby, you'll have to be gentle with him."
The young medic with "Angela" stenciled on her name tag, smiled warmly over at Kensi. "Don't worry ma'am, we get plenty of those ... we'll take good care of him for you."
"Hey Angela?" The other medic, named Greg, finished writing down Deeks' vital signs and was positioning the stretcher next to them. "I think we're ready to go."
After giving it a tender squeeze, Kensi reluctantly let go of Deeks' hand as the medics moved in beside them. Angela looked over quickly. "Give us a few moments to get him settled into the truck and then you'll be able to ride along with him."
"Thanks."
Kensi watched as they carefully placed her wounded partner on the stretcher and strapped him down. He shot her a cocky grin from under the plastic mask just before they wheeled him out toward the ambulance. She followed quickly behind and stopped as large black SUV pulled up and skidded to a stop. Sam piled out of the driver's seat as Michelle exited the other side, while Granger and Hetty remained in the back seat, a clearly agitated Colonel Myers wedged between them.
Sam's face was frantic as he came around the side of the ambulance. "Kensi ... how's Deeks?"
The dark-haired agent wiped a few remaining tears from her cheeks and smiled warmly back at her friend. "He's got a stab wound to his chest ... but he's awake and aggravating as usual."
Sam and Michelle both let out the breath they had been holding, knowing that if Kensi was this calm, the detective's condition couldn't be that grave. The big SEAL leaned into the open rear door of the ambulance and caught Angela's attention. She didn't wait for him to ask. "He's stable now ... his color is good and his O2 saturation is coming back to better levels. It'll take a few moments, then we'll get him over to the hospital."
"Thank you." Sam reached in and squeezed Deeks' left foot. "Try not to be too big a pain, Shaggy."
Deeks leaned up a little and smiled at his friend through the plastic oxygen mask. "As long as they don't ... mess with the hair ... I'll be good ... Dad." His chest still ached and burned, but breathing was getting much easier now.
Michelle walked over and placed a comforting hand on Kensi's forearm. "You okay?"
Kensi turned her eyes from where they were locked on her partner, giving the other woman a half-smile. "Yeah ... "
"Kensi ... it's okay." Sam's wife's hand applied a little more pressure, conveying a strong sense of understanding. "We don't like seeing them hurt, do we?"
Shaking her head a little, Kensi's smile faltered. "No ... not one bit."
"What happened?"
"We chased the tango down the stairs, Deeks was in front followed by Callen. Jericho and I stopped on the main floor if they doubled back ... " Kensi wiped her face with the back of her hand before she continued. "He must have ambushed Deeks in the stairwell ... when we got here, he'd already been stabbed and was having trouble breathing."
Sam had silently walked over and placed a hand on Kensi's shoulder. "The medics say he's doing good ... "
Kensi continued as if she hadn't heard him, her eyes moving to the back of the ambulance where the medics were making adjustments to the bandage on her partner's chest. "Deeks' lung was collapsing ... Jericho drained the air out of his chest with a freaking pen ... can you believe that?"
Sam squeezed her shoulder and then let his hand fall to his side. "Combat medicine ... crude but effective." He took a moment to glance around the area. "Speaking of Jericho, where is he?"
In her concern for her partner, Kensi had forgotten all about the NSA agent when the medics had arrived. Michelle raised her hand and pointed toward the other side of the parking deck. Jericho was sitting a few yards away on the edge of the small concrete wall, he looked totally defeated. His officer's jacket lay beside him and there was blood on his white t-shirt where he had apparently wiped his hands. He had his elbows resting on the top of his knees, his head was in his hands and his eyes were down.
Sam started to move in his direction, but Kensi caught his arm and stopped him. "I've got him ... just don't let them leave without me."
"You got it."
Kensi approached the big agent cautiously, not sure why he had wandered off by himself or why he seemed so stunned. When he made no move to acknowledge her presence, she sat down on the wall beside him with her shoulder barely touching his. She kept her eyes pointing directly ahead for as long as she could stand it, and when she finally turned in his direction ... what she saw shocked her.
Jericho's hands still had some blood on them ... Deeks' blood ... but what shocked Kensi was that they were trembling uncontrollably.
"Hey ... " She reached up and pulled one shaking hand away from his face. There was a small streak of blood on his cheek and tears in the corners of his eyes. "You okay?"
The big agent sniffled and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. He took a deep breath and blew it out hard before he finally turned and looked at her. The sad expression in his deep green eyes tugged at her heart in concern for her friend. "That scared the hell out of me back there, Kensi."
The comment surprised her. "You didn't look scared ... in fact, it seemed like you've done all that before."
A shadow passed over his face for a moment before it faded away quickly. "I have ... but you don't really think about it while you're doing it ... it's after, when the adrenaline is wearing off, that you realize what was really going on."
Deciding that she didn't need for him to relate how he had to do that little procedure before, she bumped his shoulder with hers and gave him the best smile she could. "They told me you saved his life with that little pen thing you did."
He blew out another deep breath and shook his hands to try to get the shaking to stop. "Like I said, I've done it before and it's always a little rougher when it's someone you know ..." He paused when he felt her lips quickly press against his cheek, when she pulled back he looked over at her with a rather surprised look on his face. "What ... ?"
"Thank you Jericho ... I don't know what I would have done ... had ... had he ... " The words crumbled apart in her mouth.
Seeing her eyes begin to water once more, Jericho wrapped one large arm around her shoulders. "Shhh ... Kensi ... it's okay."
Kensi felt him tug her against him and she relaxed into his awkward side-hug, his physical strength a comfort to the emotional storm that was raging inside of her. "Besides, he's too damn stubborn to die without asking for your permission first."
His cheeky comment earned him a hard poke to his stomach.
"Ooooffff ... really? I save your partner's life and that's what I get?"
"Any more smart comments and you'll get more than a poke!" She was smiling despite herself and Jericho relaxed his embrace, allowing her to slide back a little. "But seriously ... thank you. I don't think I'll ever be able to say it enough ... so ... thank you."
Jericho's hands had stopped their trembling and his breathing was becoming more even. He gave her one more quick squeeze before he nodded toward the ambulance. "I think they're ready ... you'd better go."
Kensi looked over and saw Angela stepping out of the back of the truck, giving a quick wave in the female agent's direction. She patted his arm as she slowly stood and Jericho caught the shiver that ran across her arms and shoulders. Scooping up his jacket, he drapped it across her back and she smiled gratefully at him as they walked over to where the others were standing.
Sam and Michelle smiled warmly at their approach, Sam patting the tall Marine on the shoulder. "Good work Steele ... he's already complaining about not wanting to go to the hospital."
Michelle turned a looked at Kensi who was moving closer to the back of the ambulance. "Does your partner always talk this much? He's got a hole in the side of his chest and yet he's been yammering on about how Hetty's going to kill him for ruining the suit." Kensi and Sam all chuckled together at the mental image of all the times Hetty had threatened them all about the condition of the outfits she had loaned to them.
Jericho helped Kensi step up into the ambulance as Sam leaned on one of the double-doors. As she positioned herself on the bench seat beside her partner, she gave Jericho's hand another warm squeeze.
"Thanks again Jericho ... for everything."
He gave her a boyishly shy grin. "You're welcome, Kensi." Then he tapped her partner on the leg, causing Deeks to look back down at him. "Be nice to the nurses Deeks and do what the doctor says ... or Kensi will kick your ass."
Deeks couldn't laugh just yet, his side hurt too much, but his mouth curled into huge grin. "I make no promises ... the pain meds they just gave me are starting to really kick in now."
Jericho glanced back-and-forth between the two of them, noticing that Kensi's hand had found its way down to her partner's, their fingers quickly intertwining. "We'll finish up here and come by the hospital as soon as possible."
Kensi started to shrug out of the Marine's coat, but he raised his hand to stop her. "Keep it, it'll probably be cool in the emergency room when you get there. I'll grab the SRX and catch up a soon as I can."
After a few more 'See ya's' and 'take care's', Jericho and Sam closed the back doors as Deeks was asking Kensi if she thought his injury was serious enough to earn him a sponge bath ... the doors clicked shut just as she punched him lightly on his left bicep. Sam was shaking his head as he pounded quickly on the side of the ambulance, indicating they were clear and it was okay to pull away.
They watched the emergency vehicle slowly drive off through the parking deck before they turned back toward the vehicle that held Hetty, Granger, and a slightly uncomfortable looking Colonel Myers. Sam turned and found the possible source of the colonel's discomfort. The look in Jericho's eyes revealed a man who was holding back the urge to do some serious bodily harm to the object of his burning glare.
Sam patted the NSA agent on the back. "Maybe it would be best if you stayed away from the colonel for the moment."
"Why's that?"
"You've got the same look in your eyes that you had when you snatched up Granger back at operations."
Jericho nodded in agreement. "Yeah ... you're probably right ... I've got the urge to kick his ass right off this freaking planet."
Michelle looked over at the two men, a questioning expression on her face. "Do I even want to know what you guys are talking about?"
"I'll tell you all about it later, honey."
Jericho nodded toward the garage's exit. "I turned my ear bud off when we started working on Deeks ... any word from Callen?"
"Eric just reported that the man who attacked Deeks escaped somewhere near the base's Fallbrook gate." Sam removed his dress coat and drapped it over Michelle's shoulders. Just like Kensi's, her dress wasn't designed to keep her warm and it was fairly cool in the underground garage.
"Well, that's disappointing." Letting out a slightly frustrated sigh, Jericho folded his arms across his chest. "We could have used him as leverage against the Colonel."
"Maybe you still can." Michelle nodded toward the black SUV. When both men turned and looked at her with confused looks on their faces, she laughed softly at their bewilderment. "Come on guys ... really?"
"Really, what?" When they answered together, Michelle thought for moment that the two of them sounded a lot like Sam and Callen.
"And you guys always give the CIA a hard time." She shook her head as if she was scolding her kids for tracking mud through the house. "The other one got away but the Colonel doesn't know that ... does he?"
As they finally caught on to what she was saying, Sam and Jericho smiled like two tomcats that had just discovered an open pigeon coup.
"Holy Bat Crap ... that's ingenious." Jericho nodded toward Michelle, holding up his fist which she bumped firmly with her own. "And here I thought the CIA was full of people who just wanted to overthrow governments and set up friendly dictators."
Sam was beaming as he leaned in and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. "That's my baby ... devious, deadly, and deeeee-vine."
"Oh ... shut up." She shoved playfully away from him.
He just smiled and kissed her again.
...
The inside of the Excursion had been silent ever since Sam and Michelle had piled out to check on Deeks. The tension in the back seat was thick enough to cut with a knife, the two men and one woman seeming content to remain in the same proximity without acknowledging the others.
That is ... until the ambulance pulled away with Kensi and Deeks in the back.
NCIS Assistant Director Granger cleared his throat. "Colonel David Myers, you are here by placed under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand the rights I have recited to you?" The cuffs clicked around the colonel's wrists before he even realized Granger was moving.
"Yes, I do." For a man in his situation, he was remarkably calm. "Are these really necessary? I mean, come on, I'm a Colonel in the United States Marines for God's sake ... I'm not going to hurt anyone."
"I didn't put them on to protect us ... I put them on to protect you."
David looked over at Granger, a confused expression on his face. "Protect me from whom?"
Pointing toward the front window, Granger nodded to where Jericho was still standing with Sam and Michelle. "You see that big guy in the Marine Captain's uniform?"
"Yeah ... so what?"
"He and I had a 'run in' a few days ago because we disagreed about how I was working the situation in regards to Henrietta." Granger absent-mindedly rubbed at his throat. "He was rather insistent that nothing happen to her and we were just disagreeing on how it was all handled ... how do you think he feels about you, Colonel?"
It was at that particular moment that Jericho glanced over at the black SUV and his eyes locked with the Colonel's, a look of cold fire appeared in the big man's eyes. The colonel was suddenly glad that he wasn't alone in the same room and the angry-looking man.
"I wouldn't want him to think you would do something stupid, like threaten Hetty, because I'm pretty sure he wouldn't hesitate to snatch one of your arms off and beat you to death with it."
Understanding dawned on the colonel and he eased further back in his seat.
When he spoke again, Granger's voice was low and calm. "You are facing multiple charges, including: conspiracy, conduct unbecoming, conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder ... and the list just gets longer."
"Assistant Director, could you do me a favor? Write all of them out so I don't forget."
The colonel's smart comment made the hairs on the back of Granger's neck stand on end, but when he spoke his voice remained level. "If you like, I'll have them typed for you right away ... double spaced ... in triplicate."
"Well, thank you ... I see your sense of duty is exactly as I have heard."
Granger's mouth quirked up into the slight grimace that passed for a smile. "You may think differently about me when I deliver the requested documents to you."
"And why is that ... if I may ask?" The colonel's smirk was only growing.
"Because I intend on shoving them so far up your ass you'll need a doctor to retrieve them for you." He spoke as if they had been discussing the outcome of the latest Laker's game.
"You know, I might take offense to the way you are treating someone in federal custody."
Hetty cleared her throat. "If I were you, I would be more worried about the inventive ways my team are devising to interrogate you once we arrive back in LA."
Colonel Myers adjusted the cuffs that were beginning to rub against his wrists. "About that ... since I have the 'right to remain silent', I will only speak to Henrietta about all of this."
"So, you are admitting that you are guilty of planning the murder of a federal agent?" Granger was fighting the urge to haul the colonel out of the vehicle and throw him on the ground at Jericho's feet.
"Like I said, I will answer any questions presented to me but I will only do so to Henrietta and that's the last I will say on the matter."
The uncomfortable silence slowly returned as they watched Sam, Michelle, and Jericho converse over on the sidewalk. Hetty had some lip-reading skills but the angle of the faces was bad and unless they were discussing the ramifications for Bikini Bottom if Plankton finally stole the secret Crabby Patty formula from the Crusty Crab ... she was interpreting their sentences wrong. She was chuckling softly at the absurdity of that thought when Jericho suddenly caught her eye.
When Hetty looked intently back at him, a cunning smile appeared on his face and she suddenly felt like she was part of a little joke but didn't know the punch-line yet.
Then he winked at her.
Aww ... bugger.
...
...
Karenin pushed the door of his hotel room closed with his foot, his left hand wrapped around his wounded right forearm. The bleeding had stopped for the most part on the trip back but he was sure he would need to apply a few stitches to keep it from opening up again.
The diversion from the crash of his Mercedes had given him the chance he needed to slip through the perimeter during all the confusion. He had stopped on the road's shoulder, a few hundred yards from the gate and quickly rigged the car to drive straight at the checkpoint all by itself. By the time the car had actually crashed into the Fallbrook gate, the Russian had been climbing over the fence line designed to keep people out ... not keep them in.
After crossing a few dark streets, he found his second vehicle right where he had positioned it earlier. He had spent the next hour or so winding his way back to LA, taking several side roads and quick turns to ensure that he wasn't being followed.
He quickly locked the deadbolt and checked that the curtains were still fully closed. The string he had placed between the door and its frame had been there when he returned, indicating that no one had been inside since he left. In his business, you could never be too cautious and being super vigilant had helped him survive for many years.
Karenin flipped on the cheap tv and raised the volume enough that anyone walking past his room would have a difficult time understanding any words spoken inside the room. Walking over to the small bathroom, he pulled a small surgical kit out of his bag and laid out the contents next to the sink. After washing the wound, he applied a generous amount of Betadine to the wound before he slowly and methodically stitched up the wound. He didn't use any anesthetic, not because it didn't hurt ... years of pain and suffering had taught him how to turn it off when he needed to.
Soon, both his arm and his thigh were stitched and covered with fresh gauze. This was one of the reasons for his rather ... violent ... interactions with some of the unfortunate women that crossed his path. Since he rarely felt pain, he needed to see it first-hand reflected back at him in the faces of his victims. The horrible things that had happened to him many years ago in a Russian Gulag had also made it impossible for him to actually enjoy himself sexually as well ... combining the two into one deviant hobby had been a natural occurence in his warped mind. Every time he undressed or showered, the scars that zigzagged across his lower body reminded him of the horrible things done to him by the other prisoners, the trauma of that night remained as fresh as if it had occurred yesterday.
Over the years, Vlad the Defiler had inflicted as much pain as possible on as many victims as he could. He had once been in the military but a disagreement with a senior officer had quickly escalated until he was charged and imprisoned in one of the most violent places on earth. He was taken away from his young wife, who through choking sobs, had promised that she would wait for him. Life in the prison had been bearable until he found himself on the wrong side of the cruel guards.
One night, after the guards had convinced several of the more violent prisoners that Vlad was one of their snitches, a few of them had drug a screaming Vlad into the lavatory where they proceeded to strip him and beat him until he could no longer defend himself. As he struggled weakly against them, they used crude shivs and other crude implements ... to castrate him. Vlad awoke days later in the prison infirmary, his mutilated body crudely stitched back together by a very old camp physician.
The rage that grew inside of him became uncontrollable unless he was inflicting the same amount of pain on someone else that had been perpetrated on him. This caught the eye of some of the underworld bosses and he was released into their custody. But the rage kindled in the prison was nothing to what exploded inside of him when he had finally returned home and found the woman who had sworn to wait for him ... in the bed of another man. Her lover had died quickly, but his young wife ... well, she had screamed for days as he slowly skinned her alive.
Some time later, as those memories haunted his tortured mind, Karenin sat on the end of the hotel bed. His wounds repaired and covered with clean gauze and he held an encrypted satellite phone in his hand. After entering the proper access code, he typed in another series of numbers and then he waited for the person on the other end to answer.
After three rings, Stepan Koznyshev answered a few thousand miles away. "Da?"
"Stepan, it's Vlad."
The former Spetsnaz Commander folded the paper he was reading and sat it on the table along-side his morning coffee. "What do you have to report?"
Karenin spoke quickly. "The Federals have taken the colonel into custody."
"Were there any complications with your surveillance?"
Vlad swallowed the lump in his throat, failure wasn't something his employer rewarded. "I was ... compromised."
Stepan took a few moments to collect his thoughts. "That is disappointing Vlad, I had hoped that I sent the right man for this operation ... was I mistaken?"
An icy cold shiver ran down the killer's spine. To say he was scared would be a mistake, he just had a healthy respect for the way things worked in their organization. The last person to fail Strelok had found himself being lowered into the business end of an industrial wood chipper ... slowly.
"No sir ... I am still operational and covered. I killed one and escaped from the military base I had infiltrated."
"Killed one?"
Vlad smiled, remembering the man's face as it started to lose its color. "He took a blade into his chest, he would have died on the floor before any medical help could have arrived to save him."
Stepan nodded in understanding. "Very well, they know now that they're little house of cards is vulnerable and they will find out more as they question the colonel. I will brief Strelok."
"Now that the colonel is has been taken, what are my orders?"
Stepan paused as he considered the best way to employ the man in Los Angeles. "For the moment, stay in place ... but be ready to move if we need you."
"Da."
Stepan disconnected the call before he stood from the small table where he had been enjoying his breakfast of eggs and toast. He walked quickly through the double-glass doors out to the marble terrace where Yuriatin Strelnikov sat watching the sparrows frittering through the trees at the edge of the garden. The blonde man stopped just behind his employer and friend, waiting for an acknowledgement before he spoke.
Yuri Strelok took another sip of his morning cup of espresso before he glanced over his shoulder. "Stepan?"
"Sir, Karenin has just reported in."
Strelok simply nodded and his second-in-command continued. "The colonel is now in the custody of the Americans ... I ordered Karenin to remain in play incase we need him again."
"That is probably wise and I may have other tasks for him before he is recalled."
Stepan looked up into the brightening sky. "The colonel will undoubtedly give them enough information to lead them directly to you sir."
"And that bothers you, doesn't it my friend?"
"I have been with you since Chechnya and I will die at your side ... but this plan of yours has me somewhat concerned."
Strelok stood and turned to face his trusted friend, patting him gently on his arm. "I know ... it is always a gamble with something like this ... too many variables that can lead to disaster."
"So why let them have the colonel ... he will give them everything!"
"Breadcrumbs, my friend ... breadcrumbs."
For the moment, Stepan couldn't rationalize the plan his employer and friend was explaining to him.
Strelok turned back toward the marble railing of the balcony. "I know ... I know ... but once, a long time ago, that woman took everything from me ... I am only repaying the favor." Spinning around once more, Strelok noticed the slightly confused expression on Stepan's face. "The information supplied by the colonel will lead the Lange woman back into her past ... and if she is still as tenacious as she once was, that will lead her here ... to me."
"Here, sir?"
'Yes my friend, right here ... to me."
Stepan was fighting a sense of dread in his stomach. "But why?"
The smile on Strelok's face was cold as ice.
"So I can kill her myself ... with my own hands."
...
...
A/N: Sorry if I freaked you out with the cliffhanger with Deeks ... it was either him or Callen ... and Deeks won the coin toss. I didn't hurt him too bad ... and he should only be out for a short amount of time. It was the evil plot bunnies ... shoot them.
Any of you out there with an emergency medical background will have to forgive me for some of things I did in this chapter. I'm a former EMT so I actually do know what a tension pneumothorax is and the proper treatment for the rather serious condition. I got my first medical training in the Marines, there is really a course called 'Combat Life Saver' and we were shown how to improvise in certain cases ... especially if it was life or death. You'll have to forgive me for playing with Deeks' injury a little bit ... I just needed it for a plot point and this is fiction after all ... I tried to stay as factual as I could. I also messed around with the geography of Camp Pendleton to fit the chase scene in the story. So if that upset any of you, that was not my intent and you have my apologies.
And, once again, if you have the time and the inclination ... leave your thoughts in the little box. I do try to respond to all of the reviews I receive and if I somehow missed yours, it wasn't on purpose or it was logged as "Guest" and I couldn't. They are all very much appreciated.
Semper Fi
JS