A/N: Another week, another update. Thanks to all those who are still reading this and especially to those who review. Once again this is the start of a new "episode" Arms Trade, where Deeks and Kensi make a plan to take down Thornhill.

Deeks and Kensi sat side by side looking out over the Los Angeles basin as the sun set over the Pacific.

"Thornhill wants me to set up an arms deal."

"Its what we've been waiting for."

"We're going to need a plan."

"I have one. We put GPS trackers in the weapons, motion powered so they last, then we put the place under surveillance."

"This feels oddly familiar."

"We are not the ATF."

"I just don't want to be the one putting more guns on the street. I can't." Deeks turned away to look at the calming waters of the Pacific.

Kensi interlaced her fingers with his, rubbing her thumb over the back of his palm. "We won't be." Deeks nodded.

"You need to tell them, they need to be ready."

"I will, once the deal is set up. Deeks wanted to fight, but he saw the slight steeling in her shoulders and thought better of it.

"We should get going." Deeks moved to get up. Kensi gripped his hand tighter. Deeks turned back to look at her. "In about ten minutes its going to be freezing."

"That's why I brought two blankets."

Deeks smiled and settled back down. "I love you."

"I know."

Thornhill, Partridge and Deeks were sitting in the offices of Private Investigations. Partridge sat behind his desk while Deeks and Thornhill sat in the two chairs in front. Thornhill rattled off a memorised shopping list. "Four shotguns. Three dozen pistols – .45s or 9mils, absolutely no .38s."

"Really?" Deeks said.

"You shoot a guy with a .38 it won't always put him down the first time," said Partridge. "There was this MP that told me that, big guy, I'll never forget him."

"Okay."

Thornhill continued. "An equal number of Kevlar vests. A dozen submachine guns, preferably HKs. Most of the American brands look stupid. A M110 sniper rifle. And a dozen .22s."

".22s? That's kind of a girl's gun," said Deeks.

"There's a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer Max, and .22s are easier to silence."

"Anything else?"

"Silencers for the .22s, Grenades – fragmentation, flash bang and chemical, a couple of M32 Multiple Grenade Launchers."

"What on earth are you going to need a grenade launcher for?"

"There's a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer. You have to look at the whole board."

"You want 7s or 5s for the sub machine guns."

"Dealers choice."

"I'll start looking, but that kind of list might take a while to set up."

"What does he want?"

"Enough guns and grenades to take a city" Then he told her exactly what was on the list.

"Twenty million goes a long way. Can you get it?"

"Can I get more than a quarter million worth of hardware? The Crows are our best bet. They're a biker crew from up norh that created a charter down here a few years back. They buy a lot of European stock and heavy hardware."

"You haven't been under as an arms dealer in years. How do you know all that?"

"I like to read. Its amazing what you can find in intel reports."

Deeks walked into a bar. Jimmy was sitting at the far end of the bar and got up as soon as he saw Max walk in. Deeks followed him into the back. As Jimmy reached the back broke into a run. Deeks followed and his longer legs allowed him to catch Jimmy before they were halfway down the alley.

Deeks grabbed him and threw him into the wall. It felt good. And Max had a reputation for hurting people that had to be maintained. At least that was what Deeks told himself.

Jimmy was an incredibly low level gun dealer who brought mainly pistols from the Crows and then sold them on the street with very little regard to who brought them or how they were used. Which made it okay to hurt him, said one voice in his head. No it doesn't, its never okay, said another voice.

"What?" Jimmy said. Deeks took a step back.

"I know you hang with the Crows. I need you to put me in contact with them. I'm looking to buy."

"Maybe I could help you out?"

"What I'm looking to buy is so far above your level you couldn't see it if you used a telescope."

"Then what's in it for me?"

"Money, it was going to be twenty grand, but seeing you made me run, it's ten."

"Come on."

"You want to make it five." He pulled out one of the two bundles of cash from his jacket. "Yes or no?"

"All up front."

"Half now, half when we get to the meeting."

Jimmy paused for a moment before making his decision. "Fine."

Deeks broke the band and counted out $5,000. Then he handed Jimmy a card. "Call me when you have the meeting."

Deeks sat in the car, just watching. The Crows LA charter was prosperous. According to the last ATF intel report, they had nearly two dozen full members wearing their patch of the reaper holding a sickle and M16, along with nearly as many prospects and associates, and charters in Nevada and a charming town in the San Joaquin valley and 15 other cities around the globe, not to mention a dozen nomads ready to back them up if needed.

The meeting was with one of the patched members in a park. Deeks was early, but so were the bikers, four whom were dispersed around the park with all the approaches covered.

One of the bikers pulled out a cellphone and made a five second call. A few minutes later, three more bikers drove up and them made their way over to a picnic table in the middle of the park. Deek recognised the one in the centre, who took a seat while the other took up positions nearby. He was Duke, the Vice President of the Crows LA charter.

He held up the other half of the brick to Jimmy, who took it. He didn't move.

He turned to Jimmy. "Piss off."

"What? We're ten miles from my car."

Deeks turned to face the gun dealer. "Then you'd better start walking." Jimmy got out of the car and walked off.

Deeks got out of the car and walked over to where Duke was sitting.

Duke was "You're Duke?" He had a Men of Mayhem patch on his cut, usually reserved for those who had killed in the service of the club.

"You're Max?"

"Yeah."

"Jimmy said you wanted serious gear."

Deeks gave him the shopping list. Duke whistled.

"That'll be two hundred thousand. Half now and half on delivery."

"Twenty percent now. You know me, I don't know you"

"Forty percent, I don't know you."

"I know you've been asking around about me, and you wouldn't have taken this meeting if you'd heard bad things, so a third now."

"I'm surprised that you didn't push the price."

"I know what this gear is worth."

"Deal." The two men shook hands.

"Let me get my money from the car." Duke nodded.

Once Deeks got back to his apartment, he went into the bathroom, pulled a plastic wrapped phone out of the cistern and sent a text: We're on.