Vengeance: Chapter 21

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"Kensi...!"

He roared awake fighting only in his mind, his body not able to sustain the effort to rise and run. The darkness, full of terror and vicious memories of the pain that lived in the darkest part of the shadows terrorized him and he cried out her name and the names of others he thought he remembered. Hands were on him and he hated the touch of their insistent hands so he tried to push them away, but he heard only laughter, musical and soft and kind so he accepted their ministrations, having no energy to resist. He felt cool water being poured over his skin, easing the heat that simmered unabated, mingling with stinging pain and he drifted, no longer aware of what was happening.

"Ssshhhhh," the voices whispered over and over along with his name. "Sshhh, Deeks."

The four women used their softest cloth to gently clean his wounds, washing away the dirt and the blood from his body, careful not to hurt him, each chastising whoever caused him to cry out. They spoke in soft tones and shushed him when he yelled a name too loudly, knowing that the effort was hard on him. They had laid him on a colorful bed and helped him drink as often as they felt was good for him, but he still mumbled incoherently and his skin still burned with heat from within as well as from what the sun had done to him. They were afraid to touch his broken hand, but placed it in a plastic basin of cool water to cleanse it and ease some of the pain. His broken ankle was badly swollen and dark with bruising and no one touched it. Thuso's mother was the one who cradled his head and dripped water between his swollen lips and she took great care as she cleaned the dried blood from around his eyes and mouth, finally seeing his humanity appear through the sweat and grime that had covered him, bringing a small smile to the face of her youngest son. The two boys would not leave, watching the women as they cared for him. They repeated the words and names he murmured as he shivered in his delirium, feeling possessive of the man they had found and whom they had finally told their parents about.

The bruises she had discovered on her son's face two days ago had infuriated the woman, and she had demanded to know who had hurt him. When he told her it was Afrikaners, she had become frightened and called her husband and Dikobo's parents to come and listen to his story. When the boys told about the white man tied so cruelly in the cell of the old prison, men were sent to watch, reporting back on what was being done to the man by the Afrikaners and especially by a large, gray haired white man. The boys were questioned again by their families and the elders of the town. It was then the boys told how the prisoner had saved Thuso by choking one of the Afrikaners and after a heated discussion, it was decided that they would rescue him. Most of them had lived through Apartheid and remembered the screams from the prisoners who had been kept in the prison, and they were worried it was being used once again for evil things.

Now they worked to save his life, tending to his wounds and determined to keep him hidden, knowing that their village would be the first place the Afrikaners would look. The decision to do this had not been universally accepted by the townspeople until those who objected had seen what had been done to him. After that, even those who didn't want to attract the attention of the hated Afrikaners agreed to keep quiet about his being there. They were all afraid to tell the authorities in Polokwane, worrying that they were somehow responsible for him being held in the prison. None of them trusted what would happen to him if he were taken to the hospital there.

"Kensi...Kens...am I dreaming?"

The name he continually called out was discussed among the women and they decided the name belonged to a woman and that this man must love her and they giggled at that as they washed him, debating what she might look like and what part of South Africa she lived in. Some didn't think their patient was a local, but others discounted that opinion before they fell to discussing all of the possible reasons why he had been tortured, but they couldn't agree, knowing that some people needed no reason for the bad things they did. When they had finished washing him, they covered him and left him to sleep, dragging out the unwilling boys, scolding them about bothering him. Thuso's mother stayed, humming soft lullabies to calm him that she usually sang for her children.

...

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Jürgen stood in front of the bare post in the courtyard as night fell, his hands clutching into fists over and over, his jaw tight with rage. He had wanted so badly to make the prisoner tell him who the man was who had become a father to him. He sneered at the use of the word love as rage choked him. He had wanted to make the prisoner sorry he'd disagreed with him about fathers, sorry he'd ever resisted him, and make him so very sorry he was still alive. Now he was gone and frustration clawed and tightened in his chest. He turned to one of the Afrikaners and smashed his fist into his mouth, dropping him to the ground.

"You were supposed to guard him." The words sounded strangled as he tried to get control of himself before calling Granger.

"He's gone," he said into the phone. "Someone came and took him."

He held the phone away from his ear as Granger cursed. He listened to the man rant as he looked down at the palm of his hand, remembering the feel of the prisoner's skin. He longed to touch him again, to see the anguish in his eyes, to possess him completely and to watch those blue eyes fade to emptiness as he took his life with his own bare hands. Now he wouldn't have that pleasure and it made him very, very mad.

"It has to be the team from NCIS," Granger told him. "No one else would care. I need you back in Johannesburg. I'll find out when they got here and where they're staying and how they're planning on getting him out of the country. Then we'll find him and kill him."

"You said I could kill him my way," Jürgen said anxiously.

"Of course," Granger replied. "Help me find him and you can do whatever you want to him, just like I promised."

Jürgen finally smiled tightly and then turned to the five Afrikaners waiting for instructions. He saw the hate in the eyes of the man he'd hit and he walked up close to him and put his hand on his throat.

"In the morning, I want you back here," Jürgen said. "Get rid of everything that indicates we've been here and don't forget to wash away all the blood. I'll call you when I know his whereabouts. Then you will help me get him back."

None of the men said anything in reply as Jürgen climbed into his Range Rover and roared out of the prison gate, kicking up dust as he left.

...

...

It had taken Callen several minutes to convince Sam and the others that Mack should drive them after the liaison had told him he was familiar with the area, having done his thesis on Apartheid in the Transvaal and had driven the surrounding roads doing research. They had taken both Range Rovers, knowing they would need one to transport Deeks when they found him and now as they approached the prison the tension was palpable.

"Kill the lights," Callen said when Mack informed him they were a quarter mile away. They drove as close as Callen was comfortable with and then pulled off the road.

"Have you had firearms training, Mack?" Callen asked as he checked his weapons.

"I can shoot a gun if I have to," he answered, looking a little nervous as he spoke.

"Ever shoot anybody?" Sam asked as he walked up to the open side window.

"No," he said shaking his head.

"Well, take this pistol just in case," Callen handed him the gun, noticing his reluctance as he took it.

"Chavez, Hank? Stay here with Mack" Callen told the two EMTs. "Come on the run with your gear when I call and keep your guns ready. If we get in a firefight and it comes your way, don't wait for Mack here to protect you."

He smiled at the liaison as the team moved out silently, keeping off the road, weapons held at their sides as they approached the stark, foreboding structure. The partners flanked the entrance, and saw immediately that there were no vehicles, but moved quickly to check the interior for guards, crossing the dark courtyard in pairs, one group covering the other. Sam and Callen paused at one metal door while Kensi and Joe positioned themselves at another further down the far side. Sam silently counted down with his fingers and then breeched the door as Joe and Kensi did the same. Finding no resistance, the teams proceeded to check each cell until they met in the middle.

"It's clear. No one's here," Callen said softly as he began to beam his flashlight around the cell in front of him while Kensi and Joe began to methodically go through the other cells.

"I've got blood, G," Sam said, shining his flashlight into the corner of the cell. "A lot of it."

Kensi had heard him and hurried back, walking hesitantly into the cell with Joe right behind her.

"There's more here," Joe said, his voice dull and listless as he knelt down over a spot by the bars of the cell. "Looks like someone was lying on the floor and bleeding."

Callen picked up a length of rope from the floor, shining his flashlight beam on it and took a deep breath.

"There's dried blood on this rope," he said quietly as he turned toward the bars. "Blood on the bars, too."

Kensi was kneeling on the floor when they heard her whisper Deeks' name. She stood up quickly, holding something in her hand and held it out toward Sam.

"It's his hair," she said as tears spilled down her cheeks. "It's all over the floor."

"The bastards shaved his head," Sam said, his anger shared by all of them.

"Granger told me once that he hated Deeks' hair. We're too late," Joe said sadly. "The asshole killed him."

Then Joe walked quickly out the building and they could hear him start to run and then they heard him stop.

"Guys," he yelled. "Come look at this,"

They three agents found him standing by a pole in the center of the courtyard holding a long piece of rope. Longer pieces were lying on the ground around the base.

"There's blood on this," he said, his voice hinting at the despondency he was feeling.

Callen walked around the post, his flashlight beam searching the surface, finding small streaks of blood in several places.

"So he was here," Callen said as he tried to work out what had happened. "Probably tied to the bars of his cell and then to this post."

"Do you think that was his blood in the corner?" Kensi asked, her voice wavering as she spoke.

"That blood was dry to the touch," Sam said. "Maybe a couple of days old."

Callen stood silently staring, fingering one of the bloody ropes he'd picked up from the ground. Their sadness kept them quiet, afraid to imagine what Deeks had endured. Callen looked at the strand of hair in Kensi's hand and then pulled her into a hug. Joe was inconsolable, striking the post solidly with his fist, never uttering a sound as the night slowly closed in around them. Sam turned and walked back inside and Callen could see the flashlight beam flicking through the open doorway as he searched the cells again. When he came back out, there were barely contained anger in his eyes as he held Deeks' filthy jeans in his hands.

"Granger didn't bring him here just to kill him," Sam said solemnly. "He brought him here to destroy him. Remember all those typed confessions we thought were from Proczko? They all ended with the line, 'You took everything from me and now I'm going to take everything from you'. That was Granger. He stripped Deeks of everything; he took his clothes to make him feel vulnerable, then his hair to erase his identity, cut him off from his family and his friends. That's why he had those photos taken at the memorial service. He wanted Deeks to see that no one would come for him, that he was dead to everyone he cared about. He wanted him to know he was alone with no hope of rescue and then he gave him to Jürgen, who tied him down so he couldn't fight back and tortured him. Granger wanted him to suffer before he killed him and he knew just who to hire to do that."

"Bring the cars up, Mack," Callen said softly into his cell. "We're staying here until it's light."

Kensi began to cry then and Joe put his arms around her and held her, losing his own battle to maintain his composure.

"In the morning we'll search this place again and see if we missed anything," Callen said. "We need to find him and bring his body home."

"You gonna call Hetty?" Sam asked.

"Not till we find him," he answered.

"Then we go after Granger and Jürgen," Joe said. "I'm not leaving them alive."

Sam and Callen exchanged looks as the two Range Rovers pulled in and parked along the wall.

"You didn't find him?" Mack asked softly, noticing how shaken the team was.

"No. We were too late, again," Callen said angrily and walked off to be by himself.

The team eventually separated, each one isolated in their grief. Mack tried to talk to Kensi at one point, but she waved him away, going to stand by Joe, putting her arm around him as he broke down, leaning his head against the rough wall and softly pounding his fist into it over and over until she put her hand over it and stopped him. Sam sat silently in one of the cars, his hands resting on the steering wheel, staring blankly at the post in the center of the courtyard as the darkness of the night paled into dawn. Mack had brought a couple of thermoses of coffee and went over to hand a cup to Callen as he stood at the entrance.

"What town is that?" Callen asked as he took a long drink of the welcomed coffee.

"Ga-Manyapje," he answered. "The people who live there are Northern Sotho."

"Think they might know anything about what happened here?" he asked, staring at the town as it became more distinct in the early morning light.

"Maybe, but it would be unusual for them to come anywhere near this prison," Mack said. "Apartheid was brutal here and this prison is a reminder of that dark time."

"Do they speak English?" Callen asked.

"Most do, if they choose to," Mack said.

"Do you speak their language?" Callen continued to stare at the town.

"A little," Mack answered. "Why?"

"Because I want to talk to the people to see if they know where Deeks might be buried," Callen said, handing Mack his empty cup before turning back toward the Range Rover where Sam sat unmoving.

The sound of approaching vehicles stopped him and he grabbed Mack by the arm, quickly shoving him behind the wall. The others had heard as well, moving rapidly toward the vehicles, pulling weapons as they ran. Callen motioned for Joe and Kensi to take cover in the cellblock, while he and Sam set up behind the first Range Rover, their backs pressed against the wall by the entrance. Mack and the EMTs took cover behind the other car.

A blue Toyota pickup and a beat up red Land Rover pulled into the courtyard. Callen moved quickly out from behind the SUV, pointing his gun toward the men in the pickup as he yelled for them to get out. The men inside both cars almost immediately opened fire. Sam yanked him back, both returning fire as two of the men leaped out on the far side of the pickup, trying to use the vehicle for cover, only to be shot down by Kensi and Joe firing from behind them. The driver of the Land Rover tried to hurriedly back out of the courtyard, but Sam shot out the tires as Callen took down the driver. The two remaining Afrikaners jumped out and tried to run. Callen and Sam yelled at them to stop and drop their weapons, but one turned and fired and Callen fired four shots into his chest. The other man froze, dropping his gun and putting his hands high in the air, begging them not to shoot him. Sam spun him around and swept his legs out from under him, pushing him down to the ground and quickly cuffed him, then the two agents pulled him roughly to his feet and slammed him against the back of the Land Rover.

"Where's the man you held prisoner here?" Sam yelled in his face.

"I don't know," the man stammered, his face pale as he began to sweat.

"Try again, shithead," Joe shouted as he came up, and then hit him hard in the face.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked, gasping at the sudden pain.

"We're the guys who are gonna kill you if you don't tell us where he is," Callen said with his hand pressed firmly into the man's chest.

"Jürgen thinks the Americans have him," the Afrikaner said quickly.

"What?" Kensi asked as the team members looked quickly at one another.

"You didn't kill him?" Joe asked.

"I think Jürgen was angry enough to kill him last night, but when we got here, he was gone," the man said.

Kensi gasped at the revelation and Joe hugged her as they all tried to take in the staggering information and calm the roller coaster of emotion they were experiencing.

"Could he have escaped?" Callen asked, confused but energized.

"No, man," he said, shaking his head with certainty. "No way he could have untied himself from that post and even if he had, after what Jurgen's been doing to him, he couldn't have walked out of here on his own. He managed to escape once, after he killed Pieter, but we got him back and Jurgen had us tie him so tight to that post he could hardly breathe. He'd shot Jürgen when we hunted him down and Jürgen was so pissed he broke his ankle with the butt of a rifle and then smashed his right hand."

Joe went for the guy, but Sam held him back as Callen stepped in front of a visibly shaken Kensi. Everyone's emotions were raw, but Callen told them they needed to keep their heads if they were going to find Deeks.

"How long did you bastards keep him tied there?" Joe angrily shouted.

"Three days to the bars in his cell and two days to that post," he answered matter-of-factly. "He got no water, either."

"All day in the hot sun," Sam said under his breath. "Tied down like that."

"The nights were worse, though," the Afrikaner said. "Jürgen was a mean fokker at night."

Sam hit him low and hard and the man slid to his knees gasping for air before toppling over into the dirt.

"I couldn't listen to him anymore, G," Sam said with no regret whatsoever in his voice.

"To hell with him, we need to find out who has Marty," Joe said anxiously.

"Then throw this guy in the back and let's go," Callen said heading toward the Range Rovers.

"Where?" Kensi asked.

"To that little town over there," Callen said, pointing toward the town at the end of the road. "It's the only place he can be."

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