Camp Arrowhead II- Panjab, Afghanistan

In the makeshift morgue in the small United States Marine base, Hetty stands over the body bag that holds the deceased Sabatino.

She won't open the bag to give him a nod of thanks that she would have in a different circumstances; however, with the beheading, Henrietta Lange's strength to looking at the headless body of an old ally isn't what it used to be. She can only place a hand on edge of the cold metal table he lies on and whispers, "Rest easy, my dear."

"I didn't think you were a big fan of him," Hetty suddenly hears over her shoulder. Granger walks up to her side and looks down at the woman with the clearly false reputation of being heartless.

"He died protecting my people and made sure Miss Blye made it home in time to see Mr. Deeks," Hetty replies. She gives a nod towards the body bag before returning her attention back to Granger. "I will owe him that for the rest of my life. Were you able to check in about the dead analyst?"

"Quick death- didn't feeling thing. Just like Sabatino."

"Good. Did Commander Nathan give an answer about escorting us to the crime scene?"

Granger scoffs and motions Hetty to follow him into the hallway. In the small hallway that's unusually empty, Granger lowers his voice and states, " He, as I told you on the plane ride over, would be way less than willing to escort us out there with the White Ghost out there. One soldier volunteered initially but with one look from his commander, he backed out. It'll just be me, you and a few natives willing to face off against the White Ghost."

"I expected as much," Hetty replies. "And no one else has died or have been kidnapped since we've arrived?"

"Nope."

"Alright, let's get to it then." Hetty knows Panjab from a past mission with the CIA that last for months during the Afghanistani winter. Before stepping into the morgue tent, she had taken in the early afternoon sky; it'll take them a few hours to rewalk Sabatino's steps, one hour to investigate and a few hours to walk back, hopefully before the cold desert night air covers the area.

"I'm right behind….hhhmmm." Granger pulls out his cellphone from his back pocket and peers down at the screen. He quickly swipes across the screen and lets out a, "Huh."

"Owen, you know that I hate when you don't use your words."

Granger holds out the screen towards Hetty. "Nell Jones just sent me an email to forward to you- it's a picture of-"

"An abloy key," Hetty finishes for him. Frustration spreads across her face before she states, "An abloy key and I know exactly where it goes."


Crenshaw, Los Angeles

"Alright, what are we doing here, G?" Sam asks as his partner's silver Mercedes pulls up to the curb in front of a storage facility. Callen lets out a yawn and then turns his attention to the sight outside of his window. The storage facility is surrounded by dilapidated buildings and it's pouring heavily throughout the area; for Sam, today is one of the rare times he's been outside since Deeks' collapse and he'd rather not spend in one of the worst parts of town.

"I sent an email a few hours ago to Granger to ask Hetty about the key. Not surprisingly, Hetty sent back this exact address. I'm not even going to attempt to ask why and how she knows it because it'll just piss me off," Callen answers. He slides out of the driver's seat and looks up to the facility's neon sign- Storage4us- where the number 4 light is out. "This place looks like crap."

"You didn't drive here with super high expectations, did you?"

Callen snorts. "I'm sleep deprived- my expectations and thought process is a little funky right now. Let's get out of this rain." With Sam right behind him, Callen pushes open the door to the facility and takes in the foyer- a small grey room with an old, gruffy man sitting at a wooden desk. The man doesn't attempt to look up from the magazine in hand and calls out, "It's early and we're closed."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Well, next time lock the door. Are you the manager?"

"Like I said before- we're closed."

Callen steps up to the desk and holds out his badge. "I'm Special Agent Callen and this is Special Agent Hanna," he says, "You want to try that answer again?"

The old man finally glances up and sighs loudly. He grabs his copper framed glasses, blows gently on the frame and slides it up his nose. He can feel the tension in both of the agents. "Fine- what can I do for you, gentleman?"

Callen pulls out the small abloy key from his pocket and holds it out towards the man. "Does this key go to anything in here?"

"I have about seventy lockers with a key like this one. Plus, I'm old school with paper records only," the man leans back in his chair and scoffs, "It'd take me a week to even attempt to match it."

"Fine," Sam says. He moves from behind Callen and holds out his own cellphone, showing Deeks' LAPD ID photo. "You recognize him?"

"Nope. I've got a nice memory and I would remember a raggedy man like that."

Biting on the inside of the cheek, Sam swipes to the next photo of Hetty. "How about her?"

The man looks away and answer with the same careless tone," Nope, not her either."

Both agents exchange a frustrated look before Callen gives Sam a nod to takeover. The ex-SEAL places his palms on the desk and darkens his expression. "This involves a terrorist case with a man that could kill hundreds of people here in the city. Now I can see that you aren't even trying and if you continue, I will get the FBI to investigate every single locker in this building. So let's try again. Do you know any of these people?"

The man sighs and mutters, "I don't know the guy, but I remember the lady. She scared the hell out of me when she came by a couple of years ago. She asked about the guy in the picture, I told her that I didn't know him and then she left. Are we done?"

"And the key? Were you lying about that too?"

"Yes, but….some other guy came in and cleared it out last week. Seriously, are we done?"

Sam shakes his head and turns, calling out, "A sketch artist from the LAPD will be here shortly to get a sketch of the man who came by last week. Don't go anywhere." Callen shakes his head in disgust at the man as well and then follows his partner out of the store. Outside, the two agents take a minute to shake off the old man's demeanor.

"So someone came last week and cleared out the locker that matches the key that Deeks had in his apartment," Sam says. "That means someone is a step ahead of Hetty for once. Has that ever happened?"

Callen scowls at the store behind him. "I doubt it."