The Favor

Chapter 7

...

Deeks drove into the almost empty lot above the merry-go-round. The remains of the old zoo lay spread out on the parched, hilly land above. He parked by the service road and watched tourists and families leaving for the day, laughing as they piled picnic baskets and kids into their cars and trucks. The sun hadn't set completely, and the soft light of dusk gave the place a peaceful feel. But that's not how he remembered it. Up this road was a picnic area with green grass and tables. That place held memories. Bad ones. It was where he'd watched Kensi get shot by the man who killed her father. His jaw clinched at the reminder. In that moment his world had stop spinning at the thought that he'd lost her. It still hurt to think about it. Calling her would help dispel those dark memories, but he didn't want to hear her yell at him or answer more questions. He just wanted to get this whole thing over with and get back to their normal existence. There would be long conversations and explanations about Phoebe in his future, but he would deal with that because he loved his wife. He wasn't going to lose her over a self-centered woman who never grew up.

He got out and leaned into the bed of the truck to rummage around in his go-bag for a fresh t-shirt. He managed to pull off the bloody one and struggled into a clean one, but the doctor had been right, his arm was already stiff and movement was painful. He grabbed a flashlight and realized his surfboard was still in the back, and he quickly covered it with a tarp. He laughed quietly to himself, knowing that probably wouldn't save it from being snatched as soon as he was out of sight. He'd seen the kids hanging out under the oaks, watching things just like he was. They looked almost feral, as homeless runaways often did. If the board didn't have sentimental value, he wouldn't have cared and left it out in the open for one of the surfers among them. But it did. His mom had given it to him on his sixteenth birthday. He wasn't sure how she'd managed it, but it still meant the world to him. He wished it would fit in the cab of the truck, but since it wouldn't, he tossed the bloody t-shirt on top of the tarp. It might be enough of a deterrent to warn them off. It was worth a shot anyway.

As the sky darkened, he debated whether to unlock the small gun safe behind the front seat and arm himself. After what happened earlier, he knew it would be the smart thing to do, but he didn't think these kids posed much of a threat. They were just looking for someplace to lay their heads for the night. The last thing he wanted to do was scare them any worse than they already were. If Kai was here, a gun wasn't going to help him convince the kid to come talk to his grandfather. He kept the flashlight and left the gun.

He cut up through the oak trees while it was still light enough to see, and made the Lower Old Zoo Trail in ten minutes. He and Ray used to goof around up here once in a while. Ray usually tried to scare him by hiding in the one of the old cages, then jumping out with a roar when he wasn't paying attention. As he hiked up toward the picnic area, he wondered how Ray was doing. Hopefully his life had evened out, unlike Phoebe's. He had a child now, something he and Kensi longed for. He tried to stay optimistic, but it wasn't easy, and now wasn't the time to get distracted by those particular emotions.

It was a half hour before he saw the old empty cages where some of the tigers and leopards had been kept. It made him smile. Ray had shoved him into one once, encouraging him to growl before he would let him out. Taunting him with the nickname "jungle cat" until he did. The name stuck, at least between the two of them, and now with Kensi, although she always smiled and rolled her eyes whenever he called himself the jungle cat.

The bear dens were a little farther up, and he had yet to see a soul. Owls hooted from the safety of the trees, which looked black against the indigo sky. He'd never been here at night and it was starting to creep him out. Something scurried through the tall dry weeds, and he stopped and listened. Small animals maybe? The further he went the eerier the place became. He scanned the trail, lighting up massive oaks and finally the bear dens where he thought Kai might be hanging out. The beam of the flashlight revealed extensive graffiti. Layer upon layer of garish colored spray paint covered every inch of the concrete with a jumble of words, names, grotesque faces, and obscure symbols known only to the artist.

"Awesome," he whispered.

He stepped up into one of the openings, scrunching up his face at the dank smell permeated by urine. It was cold inside and the walls seemed to close in around him. There were several connected spaces, all covered in wild graffiti illuminated by his flashlight beam. He heard movement ahead or thought he did and called out.

"Hey...anybody here?"

"No."

"Good to know," he said softly. "So...you must be a ghost then."

"Not really."

"You a cop?" Another voice asked out of the darkness.

"Not really," Deeks said, his words sounding hollow in the spooky surroundings.

"We ain't hurtin' nobody, mister."

Deeks made his way toward the voice until his beam lit up the faces of three young teens huddled in the corner. An odd collection of blankets were bunched around them, and a cheap and very tiny flashlight barely lit up the open bags of chips and small jar of salsa that sat on the floor between them.

"That looks tasty."

"Whadda ya want, man?" a black kid with short dreads asked as he stood up, ready to run at any second.

"I'm looking for a kid named Kai," he said. "Heard of anyone by that name hanging out up here?"

"Bet he's a cop, Deebo. They lie all the time. Don't tell 'im nothin," one of the boys said.

He was a tough looking kid with stringy blond hair and a black eye. He pulled a baseball bat out from under one of the blankets and moved over to stand next to Deebo.

"I can pay you for the information," Deeks offer.

The third kid snorted out a laugh and laid his head back against the graffitied wall. "We ain't no snitches, dude."

"Sorry. I can see that was an insult to your obvious integrity," Deeks said.

"We ain't stupid either," Deebo said. "We don't know you, man. So excuse us if we don't trust you."

"Understood."

"Why you want 'im?" Deebo asked.

"His grandfather is worried about him, and he may be in danger," Deeks explained.

"From who?"

"Actually...his father, I think," Deeks replied, finally putting his thought into words. "Claims he stole something before he ran away."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. I think he did."

"His dad not a good guy?"

"No...no he's not."

"Does he knock him around?"

"Yeah...I think he does."

"You don't sound sure about nothin', mister. You think? Or you know?" the kid with the bat said.

"I know what it feels like to be afraid to go home," Deeks said. "I know the look in a man's eye when he's lying. I know when a man is too drunk to control his anger. I know what it feels like to wait for a smack in the face you know is coming. All that...I do know."

The three kids looked at each other and then back at him. Their eyes had softened, and they seemed to relax slightly.

"Kai's in trouble through no fault of his own," Deeks told them. "He's a good kid, too. If you do happen to see him, tell him his grandfather Harry just wants to talk to him. Kai's a surfer like me. Harry lives in Hawaii, the Mecca for all surfers. There's a chance he could go live there with his granddad."

"You gotta picture?" Deebo finally asked.

Deeks pulled his phone and showed him the photo of Kai with his grandfather. "He's fifteen now. Here's my card. If you see him, could you let me know?"

"You said you wasn't no cop," Deebo said when he looked at the card.

"I'm not. I'm a Federal agent, so you're safe with me...unless you stole the country's nuclear codes or plan on selling secrets to the Russians," Deeks said with a slow smile.

Deebo thought that was seriously funny and giggled out a laugh that belied his toughness.

"Naw, man. We cool."

"How about I treat for breakfast," Deeks asked as he fished sixty bucks out of his pocket and held it out to the kid.

"You don't gotta do that, man," the kid with the bat said. "We can take care of ourselves."

"Yeah, I know you can," he replied. "But if I remember right, that food truck down by the merry-go-round sells some pretty awesome donuts. Gigantic cinnamon rolls too. But if you just want to have stale chips for breakfast I'm cool with that...if you are."

Deebo took the money without a smile, and his card too. "Thanks, dude."

"Name's Deeks. Stay safe, okay?"

"That's the plan."

"It's good to have one...for the future."

"You're funny, man" the kid against the wall said. "See ya...Deeks."

He left them there with a sense of sadness. When this was over, he decided he would come back and work to convince them to try one of the local shelters. Right now, he had to continue his search for another lost boy. He stepped outside to get his bearings before walking into another labyrinth of rooms, one with a dizzying display of graffiti. It had concrete stairs in the middle that disappeared down into darkness, and he pointed his flashlight at the bottom where a heavy iron gate opened into nothing but blackness.

The scrape of a shoe on dirty concrete made him turn, but he didn't get his arm up fast enough to ward off the blow that knocked him to his knees. Suddenly surrounded by three men, he struck out, connecting with one guy's crotch. The man swore, the voice sounding familiar. But he had no chance to consider it as kicks and fists rained down on him. He got in a few good punches, but cried out when he was pistol whipped to the ground. A man knelt down next to him, his breath smelling of onions.

"Stay clear of the kid, asshole," he said. "He ain't your business anymore. Next time we won't be this nice."

Suddenly he was tumbling down the concrete steps. The pain left him breathless and barely conscious when he landed at the bottom. They hauled him into the dark den and dropped him, leaving him groaning face down among the trash on the floor. He heard the screech of the gate being pulled shut and he panicked. Ignoring the pain, he pushed himself up and lunged for the iron bars, struggling to stop the men from locking him in. The barrel of a pistol slammed down on his knuckles and he yelled out a curse as he was forced to let go. Trying again, he took a sharp blow to the face that sent him tumbling back onto the floor. He gasped at the pain, and tried to see their faces in the deep shadows, but their flashlights were blinding as they pulled a heavy chain through the bars and put a lock on it.

"Nice try, dickhead. Now we're gonna go find your surfer girlfriend and that kid," the voice said. "I got a feeling we're gonna have a lot more fun with her. Hell, she may even enjoy it."

"No! Don't!" He shouted as the men headed up the stair. "Kai's not there...he's not there."

Then they were gone, and he was alone. He laid down on his back and moaned softly, his body aching and his mind fuzzy. As he lay in the dark, he slowly began to assess his injuries. His arm was bleeding again, and a couple of ribs might be cracked, but nothing else seemed to be broken. He panted out a curse and struggled to pull his phone out. Its dim light didn't do much to light up his surroundings, and he was pissed when he saw he had no signal.

"Sonofabitch!"

His shout echoed off the thick concrete walls and he was overcome by a sense of dread, leaving him with a deep chill. No one knew where he was, so he probably wouldn't be found until morning when the tourists and day-trippers showed up. He couldn't call for help or warn Phoebe she was in danger, and he silently berated himself again. He should have brought his gun. Another regret to pile on top of all the others. His whole body ached, and it hurt to breathe, but he had to move, to see if there was another way out. But first he needed to rest...for just a little while.

Voices woke him, and he rolled over onto his stomach, resting his head on his arm to let the pain subside. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but it was still pitch black, so it had probably only been a few minutes. Blowing out his breath a couple of times, he began to crawl toward the iron bars.

"Deeks?"

Hearing his name shocked him, but it was confusing because he didn't recognize the voice.

"Here," his own voice little more than a whisper.

Soft footfalls sounded hesitant and he realized there was more than one person. The runaway teens. The weak light from their tiny flashlight barely lit up the stairs in front of them, but it sure was good to see even a small glimmer of light.

"Deebo?"

"Yeah, dude. We were going for pizza and heard those guys beatin' on somebody. Thought we'd check it out."

Deeks turned on his phone and its soft glow lit up the scared faces of the three teenage boys. The blond still gripped the baseball bat, while the other kid hung back and looked ready to bolt.

"Charley...go keep watch," Deebo ordered, and Deeks heard him head back up.

"It's damn good to see you guys."

"You look like shit, dude," Deebo said quietly as he shined a beam of light on Deeks' bloody face. "Why they do this?"

"They're after Kai. Wanted me out of the game," Deeks said. "Can you get the gate open?"

"This lock is heavy duty, man. It ain't gonna budge," the blond said.

Deeks looked down at his phone, hesitating to give it to the boy, but knowing it was his only choice. "Would you call someone for me?"

If they decided to take his phone and run, he was stuck, but they were his only hope right now. He knew there was a risk that the sensitive information on it might be compromised, and there would be dire consequences for him if it fell into the wrong hands. But he also didn't think these kids had the knowledge to delve deeper into any of its files or knew anyone in the market for such information. At least he hoped they didn't. Otherwise he might be looking for a job as a mall cop, and that was if he was lucky enough not to end up in Federal prison.

"Nice phone, man," Deebo said. "Who do you want me to call, cause if it's the cops, we're outa here."

"My wife. Kensi."

"She better bring some bolt cutters, cause this is a serious chain," the blond said.

"She's a ninja warrior, brother," Deeks whispered.

The boys snorted at that, but Deebo nodded and Deeks unlocked the phone. He pressed Kensi's number and handed the phone through the bars.

"There's no signal here, so you'll have to take it outside," Deeks said. "Call her Fern. It'll let her know she can trust you."

Deebo looked at him for a moment, and in that instant he wondered if he would ever see him or his phone again.

"Stay here and keep him company, Muncy," Deebo said. "It's dark as shit down here. Hate being alone in the dark."

Deeks choked up at the comment. These kids had been through hard times, but they hadn't lost their humanity. Their kindness was almost breathtaking, and he laid his head down on his good arm and waited in the dark with a kid named Muncy.

"There's a baseball player named Muncy," Deeks murmured.

"Yeah. I know. Max Muncy. Plays first base for the Dodgers. He's seriously cool," the kid said with a hint on excitement in his voice. "I took his name. Mine sucked. You ever get to see him play? For real, I mean?"

"No, but I watched the World Series on TV," Deeks replied. "I'm more into basketball though. Clippers. An old friend of mine is a player."

The kid didn't say anything and Deeks just concentrated on not aggravating the pain radiating through his ribs.

"I'm gonna go to a ballgame someday," Muncy said wistfully.

"If I get out of here, I'll make sure you do," Deeks promised.

"Yeah, right."

The cynicism in the kid's voice saddened him, but he understood it. He had no idea what the kid's story was, but Deeks recognized the defeatist attitude. It was hard to trust anyone when your own family failed you.

The boy went silent, and he didn't have the energy to start another conversation. His mind drifted as he strained to hear any sound in the gloom that was slowly closing in around him. Deebo was probably long gone, along with his phone and the hope it represented. Finally, he just gave in and drifted off.

...

Kensi sat on the couch in the boat shed going over what Hetty had told her about Phoebe McKinney. Deeks probably wasn't even aware of some of the later stuff. She was pretty sure he knew about the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of her father. The man had been a decorated cop who looked good on paper, but let his demons out at home instead of on the job. She could see how Deeks would have connected with her, given their similar childhood trauma. Hetty felt there was more than just physical abuse, but nothing definitive was in any of her files. Her father had died not long ago, which was when she'd come home to LA. Her mother had taken her own life when Phoebe was thirteen. The father's pension was left to Phoebe, his only child. Not that she needed the money. She had toured all over the world and collected sponsors along the way. She was quite wealthy and quite famous, but for more than just surfing. Late in her career, she was dropped by some of her major sponsors when she was accused of paying a couple of surfers to drop out of a competition. There were rumors she had paid off certain judges as well. She was never formally charged, but her reputation took a hit and so had her bank account. Gossip about her sexual activities was out there as well, but again, nothing ever stuck. Hetty believed she paid to keep things quiet. She was a celebrity and got the breaks celebrities counted on. She hadn't entered a competition in over three years, most of her money now coming from long term investments and being a spokesperson for certain brands. Deeks had never mentioned her until today. It's what worried her and made her angry at the same time.

"Hey Kens," Callen called out as he and Sam walked in. "Thought you'd be home reading Deeks the riot act for getting himself shot."

"Or have you decided to make him suffer in silence?" Sam chimed in.

"Hetty was sharing some research with me on Deeks' shooter, Phoebe McKinney."

"And you don't look happy about it," Callen said.

"He never even mentioned her name to me...ever."

"And you're mad at him for that?" Callen said.

"You're damn right I am," she fumed. "We promised no secrets between us."

"What about your secrets?" Sam said. "You forgetting you failed to mention you were hunting down your father's killer? For years. To any of us, including Deeks. Your partner."

"That was before."

"Before what?" Callen asked with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

"Before he promised."

"You do remember what we do for a living, right?" Sam asked. "There are things we do undercover that can't be shared, even with a spouse."

"This isn't about being undercover, Sam," Kensi said. "It's about a woman he still has feelings for."

"So, you're jealous."

"Maybe I am. Don't I have a right to be?"

"Well...there's the whole personal privacy thing," Callen said. "We all keep secrets, Kens. I don't know everything about Sam, and he...well...he knows only what I want him to, and that is next to nothing."

"And let's keep it that way, G. I know more than I want to already," Sam said. "Knowing everything about your partner is overrated. Trust me."

Kensi's phone sounded Deeks' ringtone, and even though she pulled it out, she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to him right now.

"Don't be like that, Kens," Sam warned. "Marriages are hard enough without holding a grudge."

She nodded and answered the call. "Hey, baby...How are you feeling?"

"He ain't feeling good at all, lady."

"Who is this? And how did you get Deeks' phone?"

She snapped her fingers at Callen and he quickly got on the phone with Ops to track the location.

Kensi was scared and trying hard to remain calm as she put the phone on speaker as the guys gathered around her. "Are you there? Talk to me...please."

"He said to call you Fern."

The name made her smile. "Why didn't he call? What happened?"

"Some guys beat 'im up and threw him down some stairs. They locked him in one of the old bear dens."

"Where are you?"

"The old zoo. He asked us to call you cause we couldn't get the lock off and he couldn't get a signal way down there."

Sam and Callen checked their weapons and she followed them out the door to Sam's car.

"What's your name?" Kensi asked softly.

"I'm Deebo. He said your name was Kensi. I like that name better than Fern."

"Me too."

"Better bring some bolt cutters when you come," he said. "And flashlights. It's scary dark down there."

"Will you wait until I get there? I'd like to meet you and thank you for helping him." Kensi said as Callen signaled that they had the location.

"Deeks already gave us sixty bucks for food," he replied. "And we didn't even ask for it. He's cool."

"Yeah, Deebo. He is kind of cool," she said, tears filling her eyes. "And so are you."

When he didn't say anything, she thought he had ended the call. But the distant shout from another voice startled her and she heard Deebo cuss and then the sound of running.

"He's on the move," Callen said as he showed Kensi the tracker on his phone.

"Deebo! What's happening? Talk to me."

"One of those guys came back," he said in a breathless voice. "He hurt Charley. Hit 'im with a gun. Why would he do that? Damn!"

"Where's the guy now?"

"I think he's going back to where Deeks is," he said, and she could hear the fear in his voice. "Shit. Muncy's down there. What if he shoots them? What do I do?"

"You wait right where you are and stay safe. I'm on my way and I'm bringing a couple of Federal agents with me. They're Deeks' friends."

"I ain't waitin'," he said, his voice suddenly deep and hard. "Muncy's my best friend. I ain't gonna let some shithead shoot 'im."

"Deebo!" Kensi yelled into the phone. "Damn it! He hung up."

Sam roared through an intersection and up onto the freeway at high speed. "What the hell did Kilbride get Deeks into?"

"A lot more than he signed up for," Callen said. "Push it, Sam. If that guy came back to kill Deeks, he's not going to leave any witnesses."

...

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