Hi! Another chapter!
A reviewer pointed out that she has trouble picturing Dee because there's little physical description of her. Anyone else have this problem? I, of course, have a very vivid picture of her in my head, but if none of you guys do, I need to up my game and give you something that'll help you out. Let me know.;-)
It had started as any other day. Dee had the late shift, so they had breakfast, and she kicked him out the door with "I love you's" and "be safe's". While she was wearing one of his button-downs, he hadn't really wanted to go, but knowing that Hetty was not easily persuaded to forgive him because he couldn't let go of his girlfriend, and Dee was buried in the café's administration for the next few hours, he went anyway.
He arrived in the nick of time, throwing his tea strainer in a cup of hot water and tried to figure out why everybody on his team seemed to have a bucket list except for him. Maybe it was time to make one. There were things he wanted to do and they all included Dee. When he asked Kensi how the wedding planning was coming along, he got more details than he bargained for and instantly regretted having asked the question.
It promised to be a slow day as he settled in for paperwork. Looking back on it, he should've felt something. He should've known something was up. Then again, hindsight was always 20/20, and there hadn't been any clue that would've told him that something was about to happen.
Half an hour later, Eric's familiar whistle sounded and they went up to OPS. The fact that Hetty was there, too, wasn't unheard of, but for some reason it made him feel on edge. And when he looked at the screen, he instantly knew why.
"When was this?" he demanded.
"An hour ago," Eric answered, frowning. "And explosion downtown. A café." He touched his tablet. "Called Indulge, owned by…"
"Deja Barrow and Lindy Knight."
Eric looked at him, surprised. "Yes…"
"Casualties?"
"Two dead, four injured. There didn't seem to be anyone else at the café," Nell answered.
No, it had been too early. The real traffic wouldn't start coming in until ten.
"Surveillance on who did this?"
"Not yet," Eric shook his head. "The apartment above the café is owned by Miss Barrow, but we don't know if she was home at the time of the explosion. The fire department didn't find anyone upstairs when they went to check."
Callen bit his lip, not wanting to tell them that he already knew that. He turned to Hetty. "Why are we watching this? Domestic terrorism?" Not that he didn't want to know that Dee's café had gone up in flames, but this seemed more like a FBI case.
Hetty sighed. "LAPD found something when checking the premises. Mr. Beale, please."
Eric put a picture up on the large screen. Callen screened it and was on his way out within seconds. "Where is she, Hetty?"
"On her way to the boatshed." But Hetty wasn't going to let him go like that. "Mr. Callen, I would appreciate it if you shed some light on this situation, please."
He turned around in the doorway. "It says: Вы будете знать, что он чувствует, как. You'll know what it feels like. It's signed with initials of someone who isn't alive anymore. You need to call Gibbs, let him know he's in danger. His team, too."
"I gathered that." Hetty frowned at him. "I know you need her safe, but I need to know what we're up against here."
Callen took a deep breath. "Serbia. Classified mission. It was only Gibbs and me. We needed to kill a Russian arms dealer living there. Long story short: not everything went according to plan and we had collateral damage. Both his wife and daughter were killed, too." He squared his shoulders. "His son was left behind, it's the only one I can think of that would want revenge."
"Do you have a name?"
"His father's name was Oleg Bogdanov. That's the initials on the bottom of the picture. I don't know what the son was called." With that, he finally left OPS.
Hetty looked at Sam. "Go with him, please. We'll start searching from here. We'll need you at the café, later. Both of you."
Sam didn't need much else and followed Callen out.
Rushing into the boatshed, he saw her lone figure on the screen. She was twisting her bracelet around her wrist; her jaw was set, her eyes filled with barely contained fury and anxiety. More than upset, he turned to the two agents who'd brought her in. "Whose idea was it to put her in interrogation? She's not a suspect. She's here to keep her safe!"
He backtracked towards the room, not even seeing Sam who'd come in behind him. Deja's posture instantly relaxed when she saw him. "Grisha…"
Callen checked every inch of her before wrapping his arms around her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm bloody pissed," she murmered. "Those two come knocking, don't want to identify themselves as other than NCIS agents, won't tell me where they're taking me, don't even give me enough time to get properly dressed." Leaning back, she looked at him. "You better tell what's happened before I scream bloody murder."
He drank in the sight of her, thankful that she was alive, inwardly smiling at her obvious accent. It got this way whenever she was pissed, scared or overly excited. "They haven't told you anything?"
"Nothing."
"Sit down." He pulled a chair up next to her. Taking a deep breath, he grasped her hands. "There's been an explosion."
"Where?"
"At Indulge."
Her eyes grew wide. "Are Lindy and Jess okay?"
"I don't know yet."
She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. "I take it wasn't an accident?"
"I'm sorry, baby. Very deliberate and targeted."
"They're targeting us?"
He nodded. "Someone is."
"Why? Because of work?"
"Because of something I have done in the past." He squeezed her hand. "It was my job to kill his father. Unfortunately, his mother and sister both got killed too."
"How do you know it's him?"
"He left a message for me at the café."
"He's trying to get back at you."
"Trying being the operating word."
"That's only because I was at home, not at the apartment." She was struggling for control over her emotions. "What does he want?"
"He wants to hurt me where it'll hurt most."
"And that's me."
"That's you."
"He's done his job."
Callen nodded. "He has. But it's my job to catch him and keep you safe."
"And you can do that at the same time?"
"If you don't go running off, I don't see a problem."
Swallowing, she pulled herself together. "What do you need from me? Right now?"
It was only when he touched her bare knee that her earlier comment about not getting time to get dressed registered. His anger rose again. She was still wearing his shirt and except for a pair of sneakers, little else. "We're going to get you a pair of jeans," he said through gritted teeth. "And I swear to God…"
Deja shrugged. "I'm sure they've seen bare legs before. Tell me what you need from me."
Even now, she still surprised him with her resilience. Her ability to switch. "Have you seen anyone suspicious?"
She was about to shake her head, then stopped. "Maybe… There were two guys, foreigners. They started coming in about two weeks ago, I think. Eastern-European. I didn't think any of it, having tourists every day. You know what it's like. But they were looking around a bit too much and asking a few too many questions." She looked at him. "I should've said something, right?"
"You couldn't have known, babe."
"Still…"
"You couldn't have known." He moved on. "Who has a key to the apartment?"
"We. Lindy." She cleared her throat, fighting tears. "Uhm… There's one in the office."
"Okay." He pushed her hair back from her face. "Are you going to be okay staying here? It's the only place right now that I can assure your safety. If we can't get them by tonight, we'll figure something out."
"We're not going home tonight?"
He shook his head. "The house is compromised. If they know where you work, they know where we live, too."
"Right."
Callen rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, baby. I know this is a lot to take in all at once, and there's no time to process anything right now. But I have to figure this out before it gets completely out of hand."
Dee nodded; studied him. "You're awfully calm about all this."
"I'm not. I'm even more pissed off than you are, and your entire world just came crumbling down. But this is what I do. And I'll have the satisfaction of getting the bastard who's doing this. You can only sit here and hope for the best."
"I trust you."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I know." Rising, he offered her his hand. "Ready to meet Sam?"
Looking down at her attire, Deja shook her head. "Don't think I have a choice, do I?"
"Not really."
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. "Lead the way."
Sam turned to the doorway when they entered. He'd watched their conversation on the screen. They really shared something. He'd seen the way Deja relaxed the moment Callen entered the room, how she trusted him to fix this. She seemed strong. She wasn't throwing tantrums about how she'd lost her entire life; that she couldn't go home, that she wasn't about to let him go if it meant that she could lose him too.
"Sam, this is Deja. Dee, this is Sam."
Deja nodded at him. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
"I'm sorry it has to be under these circumstances."
She inhaled and squeezed Callen's hand. "Me, too."
Sam shifted his attention back to his partner. "We need to check out the café."
Callen nodded. "Is there anything you want me to look for?"
"Please bring me back some information on Lindy and Jess. Everything else is just stuff. All replaceable."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Anything you want from home? If I can get there without getting killed?"
"The tea box."
That threw him for a loop. "The tea box? I'm sure Hetty will be more than happy to brew you a decent cup of tea. One that doesn't taste like paper."
"Your tea box."
Speechless, his eyes locked with hers. The look on her face told him that she meant it. And he knew better than to argue. In fact, he was touched that was the first thing she seemed to think about. "That is all?"
"You, info on Lindy and Jess. Everything else we can replace."
With a nod, he turned to Sam. "Café first, then home if we can manage it." He kissed her long and hard. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
If Sam was surprised to hear him utter those words to someone he didn't know, he didn't say anything about it. There was no time to stop and question him. He followed Callen out. Time to catch the bad guys.
