Henrietta Lange sat at her desk, a cup of tea within each reach. Saturday, a day she wasn't normally here. Last night, after making sure that Agent Dinozzio and his prisoner were both safely on the plane and headed back to DC, she had decided to call it a night. Later, a call had been received, Director Vance asking is she could be in the office the next day. New about their takedown of the arms dealer had come up, apparently he was into more than they had suspected. Assuring the Director she would be in, now here she was, the phone recently hung up, her mind mulling over the information.
Regrettably, she had been forced to call Mr. Beale and Miss Jones in, the information too much for the skeleton staff that worked weekends. She waited, not truly sure what this could mean. If everything were true, and she couldn't doubt the intelligence squeezed from the man, then there was the possibility things could, and even more likely would, get worse. Someone who had his hands in that many ventures, also had powerful friends. Friends who would be angry, and want revenge. Voices pulled her from her musing. Nell and Eric, making their way to her desk, chatting as they walked. Reaching her, they both fell silent, recognizing the look on her face.
"Mr. Beale, Miss Jones, good morning to both of you," Hetty smiled her greeting. Two good mornings greeted her back.
"My apologies for calling you both in, but it seems we may have a situation. Please, have a seat." Sharing a worried glance, they sat, all their focus on Hetty.
"I just hung up with Director Vance, Agent Riley, the lead agent interrogating our dealer that we took down last week, and the head of the CIA. It would seem our OP revealed more than we knew." She held up her hand, forestalling the comments she could tell were coming by the looks on their faces. "No blame to anyone, none at all. Much of this was buried so deep, I doubt it would have been found, even if we had been given the time." She started, giving her two brainics a sheepish smile. "Where are my manners? Would either of you care for a cup of tea?" Eric declined, preferring instead to stick with his energy drink. Nell accepted, her eyes glowing as the taste of the liquid danced on her tongue. "Oooh Hetty...that's delicious!"
Hetty smiled, enjoying the younger woman's reaction. She would make a tea drinker of her yet! "From Asia my dear, and quite rare, it comes from a small province in Thailand. Its name is Baicha Silk."
"Now," she returned to business. "Our arms dealer was also into other forms of criminal activity. From the information obtained, he apparently was also funding domestic terrorism. Money laundering was also a part of his businesses. What I need from both of you, is a detailed history of his criminal activity. Now that we know more of what we're looking for, hopefully we will be able to pinpoint his network and suppliers. Then we can start shutting down as much of his business as possible."
Nell, finishing the last of her tea, placed the cup and saucer on the desk, within easy reach of her boss. "Do we call the team in?"
"Let's wait until we have more information first. Unless you enjoy Mr. Callen walking into OPS every five minutes asking if you've found anything?"
Eric laughed, shaking his head. "No, thank you!" The three shared a private moment. As the intelligence arm of their team, it was no secret the more active member could be a bit...impatient when it came to information. It was easier to wait, and from what they had just heard, this could very well take some time. Better to hold off until they had more, rather then have the agents running around with nothing to do. Making their way up the stairs, mapping out the angles of inquiry they would need to pursue, Hetty watched as they ascended, a burst of pride filling her. Her team was her family, the one she never had the time to make for herself in her younger days. Now, she enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that she had assembled one of the beast team ever. Confident the information would be forthcoming, she turned to the work left from yesterday.
***
The buzzing startled her, shaking her from her concentration. It took her a few
seconds to realize a call from OPS was waiting. The buzzing stopped, and Nell hurried down the stairs, a look of panic on her face. "Miss Jones, slow down. What is wrong?"
"Hetty," the red-head answered, out of breath. "It's Lieutenant Bates!"
Instantly Hetty's mood changed. "Escort him in please," she answered, fearing the worst.
Nell became more anxious, the tone of Hetty's voice used only when she was worried. Everyone knew, when Hetty worried, it had gotten truly bad.
Pushing her last few pieces of unfinished files aside, she waited for the hell that was surely about to descend on them. Roger Bates would only come here under the most severe reason. Glancing at her clock, she gave a start, just now realizing it was two minutes until noon. An ominous sign, or coincidence? Her question was answered seeing the look on the Lieutenant's face. Nell, nervous and desperately wanting to ask where Deeks was, presented Bates too Hetty. "Miss Jones, stay here please."
Lieutenant Bates glanced at Nell. "So you're half of the Meerkats?"
Hetty and Nell both smiled, remembering the first time Deeks had uttered that nickname. Nell had looked them up later, falling in love with the adorable creatures. After that, she had enjoyed when he referred to her that way. One of the many things she loved about her big brother.
"Lieutenant, I take it this isn't a social call?"
"I wish, but no Hetty. Deeks is missing."
Hetty was silent, staring at the man in front of her, wondering when Mr. Deeks
would realize he belonged here, at NCIS. She had nothing personal against the Lieutenant, rather enjoying his company. But, it seemed lately, the only time she saw or spoke to him, was when Marty was in trouble. When did I start calling him Marty? Shaking the fear away, she motioned to Nell. "Miss Jones, please call the team in. Call in whoever is needed."
Nell turned quickly, making her way up the stairs. "Miss Jones?" She turned, staring at her boss. "Tell them this is a Priority One." Her face pale, Nell rushed to OPS, desperate to tell Eric what was happening. Between them, they could make the calls faster.
Kensi groaned, her hand searching for her phone. Bleary eyed, she read the summons, her head burying back into the pillow. "Deeks, babe we gotta..." She reached out, panic clutching at her chest as her hand felt the empty bed. The events of the previous night rushing back to her. Deeks being called out. Nell, the things she had said and shown her. Her heart broke as her words and actions of yesterday played in her mind. She pulled herself from their bed, the many beers after Nell had left making an impact on her head. Heading to the shower, wondering what could have happened. Usually on a Saturday, Deeks would join her, his long fingers soaping her body and washing her hair, bodies molding to each other. Quickly she showered, toweling herself off, dressing as she made her way to the door.
Outside the Mission, Kensi pulled up seconds after Sam, who was dressed in his usual work attire.
"Kens, you have any idea what this is about?"
She shook her head, both agents striding in. Controlled chaos greeted them. Nell, her eyes red, was standing in the bullpen, her fingers flying over her tablet, windows appearing and disappearing on the monitor beside Deeks' desk. As Sam grabbed two cups of coffee, Kensi made her way to Nell, hoping to get something that would tell her what was happening. Before she could speak, Nell glanced at her, fresh tears welling up, then hurried to Hetty's desk, a small sob escaping her as she fled. Puzzled, and more than a little shocked, Kensi stared open-mouthed at the analyst. She turned, noticing Hetty speaking to Sam. Gratefully she accepted the cup of coffee he handed to her, as he walked up, a puzzled expression on his face.
"What was that about?"
Sam shook his head, his eyes following Hetty, still confused at her earlier words..
After pouring two cups, he had turned to find Hetty standing before him. "Hetty, how bad?"
"Very bad, Mr Hannah."
He nodded, beginning to walk to Kensi, who was standing looking confused as Nell rushed off. "Mr. Hannah...Sam." The use of his first name caught his attention. Rarely did Hetty ever use first names.
"Stay close to Miss Blye please. She will need you." Perplexed, he heard her mutter as she walked away. "I fear we're all going to need each other today."
Hetty looked out over the floor, standing rigid on the steps, one hand on the railing. She told herself it was for the appearance it gave. Confidence that would convey to her team. Even she managed to believe that...for a few minutes at least. She needed something to hold on to, something solid, to keep her steady after hearing what the Lieutenant told her. She could admit this to herself, but never out loud. She was scared. While waiting for everyone to arrive, Hetty had debated on how to relay what Lieutenant Bates had told her. Sitting, listening to the facts, her heart had clenched, the worry for her detective almost overwhelming her senses. After he had finished, looking drained, and angry enough to kill, she had thanked the Lieutenant, both promising to keep the other apprised of any developments that came up. Now, the moment was here, and she dreaded the reaction.
"Good afternoon everyone, and I apologize for intruding upon your weekend, but a situation has come up." Taking a breath she plunged straight in. "An hour ago, I was informed that Detective Deeks is missing."
The words rippled through the crowd, murmurs and gasps heard throughout. None louder that the half moan, half sobbed "nooo..." that leapt from Kensi. Hetty watched as her knees buckled, Sam catching her and guiding her to a chair A question momentarily crossed her mind, fleeting, then dismissed for a time more appropriate. For a second, briefly, it had seemed to her the many of the employees, quite a few of them female, had looked at Agent Blye with...contempt? No, that couldn't be right.
"As all of you may know, Mr. Deeks was called out last night, a last minute undercover assignment having just come up. Just before noon, he was discovered missing, presumed taken by the dealers he had been sent to apprehend." She paused, clearing her throat. "I need everyone at their best ladies and gentlemen. Miss Jones will make sure all of you have your assignments." She nodded at Nell, who began passing out sheafs of paper, the facts, such as they were, printed upon them. "Each of you, talk to your contacts, let's find our detective and bring him back home. LAPD will be scouring the streets as well, the Lieutenant assuring me that all information will be shared." Another pause and her voice grew quieter. "Mr. Deeks has been missing for over sixteen hours. It is imperative we find him as fast as possible." She dismissed the group, motioning for Sam and Kensi to join her.
Once at her desk, Sam and Kensi sat heavily, the worried expression on Sam's face matched by the devastation on Kensi's. Hetty, pulled open one of the many
drawers in her desk, withdrawing three glasses, pouring each of them a finger of whiskey. "Drink," she said, placing the glasses in front of her agents. Silently, robotically, all three drained their glasses, the fiery liquid burning away some of the fear that clenched them.
"For now, what I say is not to be repeated. Miss Jones knows, and I believe Mr. Beale has some knowledge, but our staff doesn't, and it needs to stay that way at least for now." Both agents sat straighter, wondering what had happened to make their boss, normally so unflappable and calm, seem so out of sorts. "Lieutenant Bates returned today from a four day conference in San Diego. When he arrived at his office, it was to discover that Mr. Deeks was missing. Unfortunately, Mr. Deeks was not up for an assignment. He was set up, this was planned."
The statement rocked Sam, Kensi burying her face in her hands. Sam, a frown on his face and questions on his lips began to speak, a raised hand from Hetty giving him pause.
"The undercover assignment was in fact used to lure the detective into a trap. The police are scouring their records, searching for the person or person's at LAPD who set him up. So far, they don't know who, or why, but the Lieutenant assured me, when they have something, they will let us know."
The silence was broken by Kensi, her voice soft, fear lacing her words. "What do we know Hetty?"
"I'm afraid not much Miss Blye. Just that Mr. Deeks received a call last night, then left here returning home long enough to ready himself, and arrange for Monty to be taken care of. After that, he disappears. Mr. Beale has tried tracking his phone, but it hasn't shown up. So far, he hasn't been spotted on any cameras, but Kaleidoscope is still searching." Now came the part she dreaded. "Earlier today, I sat in on a conference call with Director Vance, another agent, and the head of the CIA. It seems out arms dealer," she gestured to Kensi, "the one you went undercover to catch a week ago, has more than just weapons he is in to. Money laundering, and funding domestic terrorism are also part of his criminal activities."
Hetty stared at them, hoping she was wrong, and this was some wild coincidence. "I don't have proof, but it would be remiss of us to dismiss it. I have Miss Jones tearing his life apart, searching for anything that might tie him to Mr. Deeks' disappearance."
Lost in their thoughts, they sat, wondering where their detective was.
By four that afternoon, nothing had come in. There was no sign of Deeks anywhere. Kaleidoscope, usually able to find anyone, had come up empty. Eric was still trying, varying the search as much as he could, but so far nothing. As the hours dragged by, the staff became frantic, frazzled and frustrated with their lack of success. It was like he had fallen off the planet, vanishing into thin air. Hetty, Sam and Kensi were no better.
Hetty, her phone seemingly glued to her ear, could find nothing about their lost detective. She had contacted Callen, who had flown too DC with Agent Dinozzio last night, a second agent to escort Rio, plus a chance to spend a few days with Gibbs. He had promised to catch the first flight possible, but with a major storm pounding the middle half of the East Coast, flights were being cancelled regularly. LAPD was having no luck as well, unable to find out who had set Deeks up, or why. She was frustrated, and beginning to lose her patience.
After talking with Sam and Kensi, she had sent both to the armory, telling them to prepare for when they found their lost teammate. With something to do, something to focus their minds on, rather than the fear they felt, they had jumped eagerly, weapons checked, ammo gathered. Sam, calling in their two tac-teams, began the task of readying everyone. He glanced at Kensi, his worry plain. She had spoken only when forced to, when asked a question, or wanting a piece of information. All the members of both teams gave her space. They recognized the intensity and the fear she carried, deciding that focusing on helping her get Deeks back, was the the best way to proceed.
The Mission felt wrong. Worried, fearful, waiting for the bad news to come as the minutes crept into hours. Exactly at five, everything changed.
Eric raced down the stairs to Hetty. "We got...something."
"What does 'something' mean exactly?" Sam asked, he and Kensi hurrying up when they saw Eric barreling down the stairs. They had just come from the armory, everything needing to be done finished.
"There's a call for Hetty," Eric said, his breathing almost under control. "The man says he will only speak to you. I've got OPS trying to trace it, but we believe it's a burn phone."
"I want this recorded Mr. Beale." She glanced at Sam and Kensi. "Let this play out, no interruptions." Turning to the wider space, she noticed others had stopped, clearly listening. "Everyone, I want silence."
Hetty took a calming breath, preparing herself for, whatever she would hear. Reaching for the receiver, a decision was made in a split second, she instead pushed a button, the call being heard through the speaker.
"Henrietta Lange?" The voice was an even pitch, no distinct characteristics that could be heard.
"Yes, I'm Henrietta Lange, who is this?" The voice didn't answer with a name. "Just listen."
Before she could respond, a new voice sounded over the line. A cold, nearly robotic voice. "We have Detective Deeks. In one hour, a link will be sent to your office.
Click on this link, and you will see your detective. At that time, your questions will be answered." The voice quieted, then the buzzing of a dropped line filled the air.
No one knew how to react to that, the message they had heard a shock. Eric was the first to break the silence. "We have it recorded," he spoke, receiving a call from OPS. "Their going over it with every program we have."
"Let me know the second you find anything Mr. Beale," a tremor in her voice her eyes studying the phone. Eric nodded, giving Sam and Kensi a hopeful look, before rushing back upstairs.
Kensi sat, frustration vying with desperation to hear anything that could tell them where Deeks was. "We don't have any more than we did," she said, disgusted.
"On the contrary Miss Blye, we in fact have more than we did. Granted, not as much as we hoped for, but we do have more." The look given to Hetty almost made her smile, if the situation had not been so grave. "We know that at least one person has Mr. Deeks, possibly multiple someones. We further know," she spoke, pouring three cups of tea, gently placing one in front of her agent. "We also know he is alive. They want to make us watch...what, I don't know, or why, but they need us to see him. So we prepare, and we find our Mr. Deeks." Her voice grew cold.
"And then we make sure those responsible, are dealt with."
Time dragged, everyone aware of the time on full display across every available screen. Hetty had been busy, making sure both LAPD and Director Vance was aware and up-to-date on the situation. Sam and Kensi once again made sure both tac-teams were up to date on what was happening, and all gear and vehicles were ready to go when needed. Those in OPS were preparing as well. While three operators continued to tear the phone call apart, desperately listening for any clue they could find, the others were making sure that when six o'clock came, every program and device was ready to analyze...whatever came across the link. They were poised, confident, and wanting their friend back. Satisfied they were as prepared as they could be, Hetty made her way down the stairs, stopping at the bullpen. Sam, his phone to his ear, mouthed 'Callen', letting Hetty know who he was talking too. Still unable to find a flight, he was stuck in DC. Trusting Callen would try his best, she turned to Kensi.
Her junior agent sat at Mr. Deek's desk, absently touching his things, her eyes roaming over them, memories filling her mind. The day she had given him the NCIS coffee mug, a small gesture to let him know he was one of them. The police bobble- head, that Deeks had brought in for...she still never did get the story for that. It was just a part of his desk. Like he was a part of the mission. "Miss Blye?"
Kensi jumped, turning to face her boss. "How are you holding up?" Hetty asked, standing beside Kensi.
"Scared, angry at who took Deeks, nervous. Right now, I just want him back
Hetty. Back with me, and all of us." Kensi began playing with the drawers of his desk, tapping her fingers, anything to... Her eyes noticed one the the drawers slightly open, something with color inside. Curious, she pulled, gasping at the insides. Hetty now also curious, gave a smile at the contents.
A wicker basket lay snug, filled with numerous candy bars. Kit-Kats, Three Musketeers, even Gummy Bears. There were even a few Dove bars mixed in. "Wha..." Kensi began, too surprised to finish.
"Deeks," Sam supplied. "He's been keeping stashes in his desk, really all over the place around here. He's been doing it for years."
Kensi stared at both of them. "His reasoning is it's safer to have sugar here, then let you go without. He mentioned something about 'Hurricane Sugarbear' the last time it happened." Sam grinned, the memory of the temper from her lack of sugar hilarious and frightening.
Between the chuckles, and the tears that were threatening to fall, Kensi shook her head. "He does take good care of me," she whispered.
Suddenly the timers on the screen buzzed, and Eric appeared at the railing. "We got a link!"