Note: Thanks to all for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting. Your interest and support is appreciated. As is the unflagging guidance of MioneAlterEgo who has provided me with a new little plot twist I'm working in to later chapters. On with the show, hope you enjoy!
"What do you mean?" Kensi asked, stumbling over the words. "How can you not know who your partner is?"
Justin turned away from her, shaking his head as he pressed his lips closed, tight and thin. He seemed to be regretting what little he'd told her already. And it was driving Kensi crazy trying to figure out why he was so protective of his partner in one moment, and in the next, he clearly wanted to come clean.
Kensi tapped her finger against the smooth glass face of her watch, feeling the steady click of time moving past them. It could take days to prod Justin into the right mindset to draw out the information they needed. They could fly Nate up to psychologically pry the information from his head and find the weak cracks to widen to get at the truth. But time was the one thing she couldn't give Justin.
"What would Ronnie say?"
At her abrupt question, blurted before she'd really had a chance to think about the repercussions of this particular manipulative tactic, Justin's head snapped towards her with unveiled panic written plain for her to see. Triumphant in a way she didn't want to be, Kensi knew she'd found the chink in Justin's armor. She might have felt remorse but she shoved it aside. As much as she might want to help Justin, she had another anonymous life to save. And a killer to catch.
"Justin. What would Ronnie say? Not about you being involved in whatever this is. But about you not helping when you could," Kensi said, easing the earlier blow of her words.
Justin swallowed with difficulty, the imagined disappointment of the young woman he felt more than uncomplicated affection for making worry furrow his brow. When he spoke, it was with a strangled whisper. "She wouldn't like it. She would be mad at me for not helping."
"You're right, she would," Kensi replied simply. "You know, before we came here we stopped by to see Ronnie. I wanted her to know you were okay and asked if she would look after Oscar. I told her about why I'd really been in town, to watch you because we suspected you of a crime."
"What did she say?" Justin asked cautiously.
"She didn't believe me. She was angry about me lying, but she also refused to believe you would be involved in killing people in cold blood," Kensi replied, her voice calm and even. "And she was worried about you." Allowing that small bit of consolation, Kensi continued on, recognizing that even if it hurt Justin, she had to push until he gave her answers. "Justin, are you worth Ronnie's trust? Or are you going to prove her wrong?"
She watched the slow simmer of concern turn to anguish as Justin seemed to war with his internal demons. As hard as it had been to manipulate him and twist around his emotions for Ronnie, Kensi couldn't shake the feeling that he was divided. He fought the need to protect with the need to confess. And she still had no idea why.
Kensi hated the thought of pressing home her advantage, of picking away at the open wounds she could see so easily in Justin. Her ability to be sympathetic with someone suffering from PTSD gave her a unique advantage she'd never really considered before. And it made her a little sick as she understood how she could take that advantage and use it in a way that might help solve a case, but more permanently break a soul. And watching Justin struggle, she worried she might have to make that choice with the young man in front of her, his soul already so heartbreakingly damaged.
"I can't tell you who he is because I don't know him," Justin said, uttering words similar to those he'd said a few minutes before. Kensi shook her head impatiently.
"This isn't 'name, rank, and serial number' time, Marine. Tell me who he is," Kensi said sharply. Justin shook his head roughly.
"I've never known his name. I've only known him for a couple months. He never calls me from the same phone number, it's always different. He told me his name is John, but that isn't his name."
"Just John? No last name?"
"He said his name was John Wilkes Booth."
Kensi felt a shiver run down her back, easily understanding why Justin hadn't believed "John." Naming yourself after the infamous assassin of President Lincoln didn't lend credibility. But Justin was talking now. And she had to get what she could from him.
"Was this all John's plan? Is he the one who came up with the idea of involving you in killing Marine Corps officers?" At Justin's quick negative shake of his head, Kensi rubbed her forehead, trying to figure out the pieces that eluded her. If the plan hadn't been Justin's and hadn't be John's, it had to have come from someone else that Justin trusted. Because even Kensi could tell Justin didn't trust his so-called partner in crime. Justin would never have gone along with the plan to kill nearly a dozen Marines unless it came from a trusted source. And that had to be who Justin was protecting.
"Who is it?" Kensi whispered, partially to herself, and partially to Justin. At Justin's desperate eyes, she softened her voice and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Who has you so turned around? Let me help you, Justin."
He exhaled loudly, his breath hitching with hurt and confusion. The war within him seemed to break and when Justin finally spoke, it was with a tortured sob. "Doctor Stein. He's the one who asked me to help. He's the one who put me in touch with John."
Even though it had to feel like he was ripping open his gunshot wound, Justin bent forward covering his face with his hands as if the weight of betrayal and relief on his shoulders forced him to physically cave inward. He was so distracted by emotions hitting him like a relentless tide that Justin didn't even grimace at the pain.
Kensi sat back in her chair in silent disbelief, her mind swimming with dozens more questions. She had a dim memory of Doctor Walter Stein from Justin's personnel file. And she knew Nate had talked to him back when they'd first gotten the case. Kensi recalled that Stein had been a Marine Colonel assigned to help Justin through his medical discharge, since retired and living in Glenwood in southern California. But this new piece of information didn't clear things up at all. If anything it muddled them.
Allowing Justin a few minutes to compose himself, Kensi stepped into the hallway, motioning Callen over and telling him what she'd learned about Justin's former psychologist. Callen's confusion mirrored her own, but he immediately pulled out his phone.
"I'll get Eric and Nell working on this right away. And we'll call Nate again too. We'll work on the facts, you keep working on Justin," Callen ordered, his face stern. Kensi nodded, turning to go back into the room, when Callen caught her arm. "Good job, Kensi."
Kensi nodded in appreciation, knowing the full magnitude of what Justin had confessed hadn't hit her yet. The pieces would all come together. But right then, it was still a confused mass. And there were more pieces to uncover.
Returning to the chair next to Justin, she was optimistic to find Justin more composed, leaning back in his hospital bed. He seemed tired, but for the first time his expression was open. She saw a touch of defeat there as well, but didn't allow that feeling that she might have put that in Justin to shake her.
"Why don't you tell me how this all began, Justin. Go back to the start."
Justin nodded wearily, no longer trying to keep his secrets hidden. He seemed to have come to some kind of peace with his regret and guilt.
"I came to Los Angeles in 2009, to start the process for my medical discharge. After Carlos was killed, I couldn't function as a Marine. I'd already seen so much in six years of combat that didn't even faze me. But that was like the last straw," Justin swallowed thickly, his eyes haunted as he thought back to a lonely desert night in Afghanistan when he'd lost his best friend. "My commanding officer determined that I was no longer fit for combat and sent me home. But Los Angeles wasn't home."
Justin's bitter words had Kensi leaning in. "What do you mean?"
"Home has always been here, northern California. I couldn't work in Los Angeles because all I knew was how to be a solider or work construction and they have so many people there doing that I couldn't run a successful contractor's business. I did day work but I could barely make a living. I couldn't breathe with all the traffic and people pressing in on me." Shaking his head angrily, Justin continued. "But the Marine Corps wouldn't let me leave Los Angeles. That's where I was sent for my medical discharge, so that was where I had to stay until it was done. The only good thing about it was Doctor Stein."
The fondness in Justin's tone alerted Kensi to the strange truth that Justin felt affection towards the man he'd only moments before told her had involved him in a serial murder plot. It was an important factor in considering Justin's state of mind. Direct attacks on the doctor probably weren't going to help to get Justin to open up further.
"So he helped you? Treated you for your PTSD?" Kensi pressed.
Justin nodded. "He saw me more than he was required to. A couple times a week over two years, until I was officially discharged in 2011. He got me off of the really strong drugs, the antipsychotics, and he spent hours talking with me. He was the first person who really understood the despair and loss I felt. He understood because he'd lived it."
"What do you mean 'he lived it'?" Kensi asked curiously.
"Doctor Stein had sons, twins. They were Marines, stationed in Afghanistan and they were killed in combat in 2005."
Kensi's eyes widened at Justin's words, the puzzle pieces starting to form into something resembling a recognizable picture in her head. "Did they serve during the Global War on Terrorism campaign?"
Justin nodded and Kensi felt her heart begin to pound heavily. That might explain the trophies. The collection of the GWOT coins could somehow relate to the deaths of Stein's sons.
"So you spent a lot of time with Doctor Stein. And he helped you more than anyone else," Kensi repeated, emphasizing the connection. "But how did that bring about your connecting with John?"
"You have to understand. I would do anything for Doctor Stein. He listened to me when no one else would. He spent hours with me after my appointments, talking me through this maze of guilt and horror from my tours of service. He helped me get on drugs that didn't mess with my head so much. He even helped me get Oscar from Paws for Purple Hearts. I owe him everything."
Kensi bit her tongue at Justin's impassioned words. He clearly believed every word he'd said. But she had a feeling there was more to Stein's apparently altruistic investment of time and effort in Justin. Stein had found Justin at his weakest point. And he'd used that to his own advantage. Kensi thought back to the time it had taken Stein. He'd spent two years making Justin mentally and emotionally dependent on him. And he'd manipulated him into being willing to do anything for him.
"It sounds like he helped you when no one else did," Kensi conceded. "But what happened after you were discharged? How did this put you in touch with John?"
"It was four years ago when they finally finished processing me. I couldn't stay in Los Angeles, as much as Doctor Stein had helped me. And he did all he could, recommending future treatment at the VA in San Francisco. I actually felt better, like I could almost take care of myself. And Doctor Stein said he thought I could do it. So I believed him."
Justin glanced out the window at the darkening night sky, reminding Kensi that the day was ticking by, moving by at a rate she was powerless to stop. "What else did he tell you?" Kensi asked, pressing on immediately with a gut instinct that there was more to the doctor/patient relationship between Justin and Doctor Stein. "What else did he ask you to do?"
"He didn't ask me to do anything. Not right then. We talked a lot, about how the Marine Corps had taken something from me, from him, from others who had served as I had. He told me how he blamed the leadership at the top of the Corps, the officers who made the decisions to put their men in harm's way," Justin said forcefully. Kensi watched Justin closely, getting the sense that as strongly as Justin said the words, he may not believe them quite as firmly as he had before.
"Do you think that now?" Kensi asked softly. "Think about all the men and women who serve and are lost to an external enemy. Marines killing Marines doesn't solve anything. Is the enemy really within?"
Justin's shoulders slumped and he looked at Kensi, hesitation in his eyes shining through. "I believed Doctor Stein. I owe him everything. I told him I would help him however he needed, whenever he needed me. But I didn't hear from him for almost four years. I was beginning to think I never would."
Kensi allowed a brief reflection on Justin's words, uttered twice by him in the their conversation: I owe him everything. She knew Justin believed them, and knew that he was a loyal man, driven by an internal code of morality. She reasoned that his personal drive might have overridden the normal conclusions of what was truly right and wrong.
"But you did hear from him. What did he ask you to do?"
"He said he had another patient who also suffered from PTSD and that he had gone off the deep end. Doctor Stein said this other patient had a plan to make the Marine Corps acknowledge what it had done and that plan was already in play. He asked me to look out for this other patient and he told me he wasn't as stable as I was. I didn't really understand what he was talking about until I drove to Los Angeles to meet the man Doctor Stein was talking about."
"That man was John?"
"Yeah. Right after I met him I felt like something was off. And considering I've had my share of psychological treatment, that's saying something," Justin said. Kensi smiled a little at the dark humor, which seemed to push Justin to continue. "He kept going on about this plan, and about how he'd already done most of the work and there were only a few left. I didn't get it until he had me take him to that Lieutenant Colonel's house. We sat there for hours waiting, for what I still don't know. And then John broke into the house, the Colonel came home, surprising us, and John attacked that man."
"Jason Callahan."
Justin nodded, his mouth twisting with regret. "It happened so quickly, there wasn't much I could do. John took off on foot in a hurry and I stayed. I thought maybe I could help the Colonel. But he was too injured, the wounds were fatal. I watched him die. And I did nothing."
Kensi took a deep breath, seeing that the guilt clearly ate at Justin. It was possible he couldn't have done anything to save Callahan. It was also possible his inaction had contributed to Callahan's death. And she could concede that there was no way to know for sure. But she didn't want to dwell on Justin's guilt for long. There was still more to the story, she knew there had to be.
"What happened next?"
"I got out of the house and I hid in the neighborhood a couple blocks away. I waited a couple hours and I left."
Kensi nodded, reconciling Justin's recitation with what she knew from the crime scene report and Eric's investigation. She remembered Griffin's car had been shown entering the neighborhood three hours ahead of Callahan's murder and leaving four hours after. Justin's account matched that, which meant he was probably telling her the truth.
Steeling herself, Kensi asked the next question with as much compassion as she could muster. Although Justin was certainly an accessory to the crime, she didn't want to be too heavy handed with him. She had a feeling she would get more information with a lighter touch rather than condemnation. "Why didn't you go to the police with what you saw?"
"I thought about it. I wanted to. But I knew it would come back to Doctor Stein somehow. He was the one who asked me to get involved, to look out for his patient. It was the least I could do for Doctor Stein and I couldn't put him at risk. And I couldn't do that to him. He couldn't be found responsible, not after everything he did for me," Justin replied quietly. He looked at her, his eyes heavy with regret. "But when John showed up in Half Moon Bay and told me his plan to kill the Lieutenant General, I knew I had to stop him."
Startled, Kensi leaned forward, anxiously interrupting. "Was that what I saw yesterday when you were on the beach arguing with that man? That was John?"
"That was him," Justin confirmed. "He told me the timetable was moving up. And that he'd followed the Lieutenant General to San Francisco from Sacramento. He wanted my help, wanted me to be there. I tried to talk him out of it, said it wasn't right. He just kept saying it had to be done, that he was so close, that he was almost done.
"I didn't know what to do. I thought about reporting him to the police, but I had nothing to go on. No name, no idea about who he really is. Even though Doctor Stein told me not to call him, I did. He didn't answer. I called the last number I had for John and I let him think I wanted to help him. He gave me an address and I followed him to the house in Daly City. I got there too late. He'd already shot the Lieutenant General and when I tried to save him, tried to call an ambulance and to stop the bleeding, John shot me. And he kept screaming at me that I was ruining the plan. I didn't really understand what he meant. Not at the time."
Knowing that John had probably been referring to the larger plan that Justin apparently knew little about, Kensi thought perhaps the shock of it might push Justin even further to reveal what he knew.
"He's killed nine men, Justin," Kensi said quietly, knowing the anger she felt at such sick and twisted violence had to harden her voice and sharpen her gaze on him. Justin's mouth fell open in shock and he brought his hands up to cover his face.
"When Doctor Stein asked me to help John I had no idea there were so many," Justin said weakly, finally dropping his hands to stare at Kensi. "Why?"
"I can only guess at John's motivation. And maybe at Doctor Stein's. But they were all Marine Corps commissioned officers. One of every kind," Kensi paused, seeing the shock on Justin's face, but knowing she needed to go on. "No matter who those nine men were, can you really think of a justifiable reason why Doctor Stein would involve you in this? In such a premeditated, calculated plan?"
"When he first contacted me he told me that John needed my help, that he needed me to help watch out for John. I didn't question why. I thought if Doctor Stein said it needed to be done that it needed to be done," Justin said firmly, his rote tone making Kensi wonder how much of Stein's treatment had been geared towards recovery from PTSD and how much had been about conditioning Justin for his end game.
He shook his head, slowly, finally looking up at Kensi with confused eyes. "I can't believe I thought killing those men was justified. Why did Doctor Stein do this? Why did he ask me to do this?" Confusion and anger turned quickly to horror. "It's my fault those men are dead. I didn't stop John."
Kensi couldn't really argue with Justin. He may not have killed anyone but his inaction and misplaced loyalty to Doctor Stein had allowed a murderer to stay free. But Kensi also knew that with the complexities of his PTSD and the likely scenario that Stein had manipulated Justin in a number of ways, playing on his mistrust and treatment from the Marine Corps, that Justin wasn't entirely responsible for his actions.
"You might be able to stop him now. You might be able to help us catch him. It might not make up for everything else, but it's a start. Will you call John, try to get him to reveal where he is?" Kensi asked. At Justin's quick nod, Kensi exited to the hallway, retrieving Justin's cell phone from one of the San Francisco NCIS agents. She also saw Callen was still on the phone, trying to track down Walter Stein in Glenwood so he could be picked up in Los Angeles for questioning. Sam entered the hospital room with Kensi, calling Eric to trace the call. When Sam nodded to signal Eric was ready, Kensi sat next to Justin, squeezing his forearm as he dialed.
Justin took a deep breath, turning the phone's speakerphone on and listening to the dial tone. Kensi watched as his chest rose and fell rapidly and his eyes shifted back and forth, giving away his anxiety. The phone rang several times and Kensi shared a quick glance with Sam, who watched with concerned eyes. Suddenly, Justin jerked under her arm and Kensi swiveled her eyes back around, hearing over the cell phone that John had picked up. The voice over the line was surprised, and a touch annoyed.
"You're alive, I see. Guess I should have aimed higher. I usually have very good aim, you know."
"Where are you?" Justin asked bluntly.
"Finishing the mission. I'm not going to let you ruin everything. I have one more and then it'll be done. It has to be finished."
Kensi glanced at Sam hopefully, feeling her stomach plummet at the negative shake of his head. No trace yet.
"Where are you?" Justin asked again, his voice shaking wildly. Kensi cringed at the lack of finesse, knowing it wasn't likely to help in bringing John in. But if the murderer was as unhinged as he seemed, no lack of careful questions or begging was likely to do that.
"Listen, I gotta go. Things to do. If it makes you feel any better, you never would have stopped me. It would have been nice to have you along at the end, but so it goes. It'll be over soon."
The line went dead and Kensi turned to Sam, waiting as he murmured a few words to Eric on the phone, then hung up. "Southern California. That's as close as Eric could pinpoint it."
Sam gestured for Kensi to follow him into the hallway and Kensi stood, allowing one last glance at Justin as she took the phone from him. He looked at her, his vision clear as he seemed to be finally waking up to the unspeakable acts he had been a part of. And Kensi knew Justin well enough, had witnessed his sensitive soul, to know that his misery over his involvement, however peripheral, would haunt him for the rest of his life.
But she couldn't comfort him, couldn't offer more lies to try and ease his mind. She'd given him enough lies served up as friendship. And she felt her heart ache as she realized that nearly everyone in Justin's life, except perhaps Ronnie, had used him in one way or another. He couldn't possibly know who to trust. So it surprised her when he reached for her hand, gripping it tightly as he earnestly caught her eye.
"I know I have a lot to answer for. But please, if I can help, let me."
Kensi nodded slowly, knowing there probably wasn't much else Justin could do. But she could offer him that nod, that small piece of consolation. She couldn't find it within herself to completely shatter any thought he might have to try to repent for his crimes of association.
When he finally released her hand, Kensi followed Sam out into the hallway. Callen was just hanging up the phone and Cody stood with arms crossed over his broad chest, his tapping foot the only indication of his pent up energy. They all turned to Callen, ready to hear the report on what the local NCIS agents in Los Angeles had found on Doctor Stein's whereabouts, when a familiar voice drifted down the hallway.
"You guys just can't live without me for even a day, can you?"
Kensi whirled around, feeling the grin nearly splitting her face as Deeks ambled towards them from the elevator, giving the guys a quick head nod before he turned to her with a wide smile. Putting aside the case for a moment, Kensi let her eyes dart over Deeks' face, looking for clues about how things had gone with his sister and mother. She saw the tired set of his eyes and how he was trying to hide his fatigue from the team. When he met her gaze head on she narrowed her eyes, telling him he didn't fool her. The barely perceptible shake of his head told her enough. Things hadn't gone well, but he was okay.
"What happened—"
"Later, Kens. The case first," Deeks said softly, interrupting her question. Frowning with displeasure, Kensi nodded reluctantly, knowing he was right.
Starting back at Justin's revelation about his partner and Doctor Stein, Kensi brought Deeks and everyone up to speed. The surprise of the developments, and how quickly they had happened, was reflected on Deeks' face as he silently shook his head in amazement.
"Hetty has a team in Los Angeles looking for Stein. He has a private practice in Glenwood but he wasn't there or at his residence. Eric and Nell are trying to track him electronically. We couldn't get a trace on the call when Griffin tried to call his partner, but we know he's in L.A. John might even be with Stein, we don't know," Callen reported.
"Now what? Not more waiting, I hope," Cody replied, clearly eager to see some action on their case. Callen shrugged.
"Not exactly. We're going to pack up here and get back to L.A. Cody, you and Deeks need to head back to Half Moon Bay and secure the surveillance equipment there. You'll pack up what you can and drive south tomorrow morning. Sam, Kensi, and I are going to transport Griffin to Los Angeles. Hetty's arranged for a private plane out of the San Francisco airport in a few hours. His medical condition is stable enough and we might need him nearby as we figure things out with Stein and Griffin's partner. Hopefully by the time we get there tomorrow morning they'll have Stein in custody and we'll have a lead on John," Callen replied, evenly and efficiently doling out assignments.
Cody's phone rang and when he glanced at the screen he frowned, stepping away from the group to answer it. Kensi watched her brother go, knowing it had to be someone important for him to interrupt their briefing. It didn't seem to bother Callen, who turned expectantly to Deeks.
"Sorry to pull you away from the family stuff, Deeks, but we need you on this. I figured if you and Cody head back to Half Moon Bay you can at least try and tide things over with your mother and sister before heading back to L.A."
"It's not a problem, Callen. I know we need the whole team," Deeks nodded confidently, though Kensi saw the hesitation in his eyes. "My sister is in temporary foster custody, so she's safe for now. I'll figure out the rest after we get things resolved with the case."
Sam had taken off to arrange for Griffin's release from the hospital and Kensi turned to Deeks, wanting to question him further on the details of what had happened with Hailey and Brenda. But it was Cody's voice, instantly raised and tense with fear that pulled her attention from her fiancé to her brother.
"Are you sure you're all right? Rachel, you and Chase are okay? What about Mom?" Cody paused and Kensi took three steps to place herself squarely in front of her brother, his brown eyes frantically darting around. Kensi could scarcely breathe as her survival instincts were suddenly on high alert. Nothing shook Cody. Nothing. She'd seen him face down men armed with machine guns with the coolness of a soldier who had nerves of steel thanks to years served in combat. He'd spent years in Special Forces facing death on a daily basis. But his barely contained panic told her something was deeply, horribly wrong.
Reaching out, Kensi rested her hands on Cody's biceps, bringing his focus directly on her. She felt Deeks behind her, and then felt him move to her side, his right hand resting on her shoulder and his left resting on Cody's. As much as she wanted to pepper Cody with questions she waited, letting him listen to his wife over the phone. She and Deeks formed a circle of support around Cody and Kensi waited impatiently, wondering what had happened.
Knowing the list of things that could truly rattle Cody was a short one, Kensi thought quickly. Rachel, Chase, and Diane seemed to be fine. She and Deeks were there with him. She choked a breath as she thought of Cody's father, Robert Keppinger. The General was the closest thing she'd had to a father since her own had died. Kensi held her breath, stars of light beginning to dance across her vision as the horrible truth and the unlikeliest of outcomes flashed across her mind, unbidden and unwelcome.
She didn't realize how tightly she gripped Cody until Deeks' hand tightened on her shoulder. Kensi barely managed to loosen her fingers, the joints of her hands white with the pressure of her hold, as Cody hung up the phone with a promise to call Rachel back soon. He didn't seem to register her grip; tight enough he would probably have bruises.
The truth was in Cody's eyes: shock and disbelief mixed with fear strong enough Kensi could sense it radiating from her brother in almost visible waves. It was a truth she wished she didn't have to hear and she wished she didn't already understand.
"That was Rachel. She, Chase, and Mom are fine," Cody halted, his voice breaking as he struggled to swallow. He finally took a deep breath to sputter out the next words that made Kensi feel as though she was falling towards the dirty linoleum floor of the hospital.
"It's Dad. Somebody shot him."
To be continued