The Family

Chapter 9

…

The family was gathered on the tarmac at Shively Field in Saratoga. George and Jim Littleshield had said their goodbyes and were on their way up to the Wind River Reservation and out of harm's way. The jet Hetty had hired to pick up Di and the kids and fly them out to Northern California was waiting, and everyone was there to make sure they got off safely. Joe looked relieved as he hugged his wife and kids and tried to answer his son's questions about where they were going. Deeks was glad he didn't ask why.

"Daddy? Can I ride the horses at the Sea Ranch?" Chris asked.

"It's not a real ranch, Chris," Di said, sounding nervous and irritated.

"Then why's it called Sea Ranch?"

"It's a series of vacation homes built alongside the ocean, son," Joe said, and knelt in front of his seven-year-old.

"No horses?"

"According to their website they do have a stable where they keep a string of trail horses, but they won't be like your riding pony."

"I can ride big horses," he said defensively.

"I know you can, buddy," Joe replied. "Soldier can check them out when you get there. It'll be his decision. Okay?"

"Okay," he replied reluctantly. "Daddy? Do you think Smoky will miss me?"

"Of course he will. He's been your pony since you were five. You're buddies," Joe smiled and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, son. I'll make sure he gets a carrot every day, and when you get back, we'll go for a long ride together."

"Can I come too, Daddy?" Joy asked, pulling on his fingers as she smiled brightly up at him.

"Oh yeah…he's toast," Deeks laughed. "She knows how to work her daddy."

"I think she wrote the book," Callen said, looking mesmerized himself.

Joe's three-year-old had taken to Callen, and it had affected him in a way no one had anticipated. His eyes softened whenever she looked at him, but especially when she took his hand and pulled him over to whatever she wanted to show him. She was enamored of him. Whenever he came to visit, she demanded he sit next to her at meals, which he agreed to easily and seemed to enjoy. He basically did whatever she asked, even going so far as to read her bedtime stories. Around the tiny little girl his aloofness vanished, replaced by an expression of wonder. They all teased him about it, but he took it good-naturedly.

"The pilots are ready," Sam said, and Joe ushered Di and the kids up the short flight of steps and into the plane.

Soldier hung back, still not happy about being sent away. He had just turned seventeen. He was almost as tall as his father, lithe and handsome, a truly impressive looking young man. But now his face was etched with worry. Elan realized he was angry too and gripped his shoulder, pulling his head into his shoulder and speaking to him in Arapaho. Soldier nodded and his expression softened.

"I know you'd rather stay, but we need you to do this for us, son," Elan said. "Di needs someone she knows with her…someone she trusts. So do the kids. Joe needs that too. It'll help him keep his head on straight. You know how he gets."

All of them relaxed as the boy nodded and grinned.

"Don't get killed, Papa," he said, suddenly very serious. "Please."

"I have Lily and your uncles watching my back," he replied. "I trust them with my life. You should too."

"I do…but…last time…"

"Soldier…" Lily said his name with a fierceness Deeks hadn't heard before. "Everyone in this family fights to protect one another. Trust in that. Know it deep in your heart. It is okay to be afraid, mon petite chou, but you must believe that I will do everything in my power to protect your father. That I promise you."

Soldier suddenly wrapped her in a powerful hug, and she clung tightly to him, both with tears in their eyes. He broke away and quickly hurried up the steps into the plane. Deeks threw his arm across Elan's shoulders. He could feel the tension in his muscles.

"You raised a great kid, Elan," Deeks said.

"I need to be here when he comes home, Cuz."

"That's the plan, brother. For all of us."

When Joe came back out to join them, he had tears in his eyes. Deeks couldn't help those that suddenly filled his own. As the family walked back into the small terminal, Kensi took his hand. They were united in their resolve. Deeks thought they would need to be for all of them to survive. None of them had any illusions about the people they were up against. He just wished they knew exactly who they were. As if on cue, Callen's phone rang, the cheery ringtone incongruous to the look on his face and to what the message might be.

"I got a feeling Joy got ahold of his phone," Joe grinned, speaking quietly to Deeks as Callen listened to whoever was on the other end. "She knows how to work an iPhone better than I do. She changed my ringtone to a quacking sound. I have no idea where she got it, but when it went off in the middle of a briefing, I thought Sogard was gonna fall off his chair he was laughing so hard. The other deputies started quacking at me whenever I walked in a room. They call me Duck. To my face. It's damn embarrassing. Now I check my phone every morning before I go to work."

"In this case it's probably good advice," Deeks said. "Duck and run, brother. Duck and run."

"After you, dumbass."

The look on Callen's face was anything but cheerful when he turned to face them all. "Eric got a hit on that guy Wayne. The one Joe and Elan said they tied to a tree."

"The guy with his throat cut?" Deeks asked.

"Name's Wayne Loftus. Late of Yemassee, South Carolina," Callen said. "Eric ran the names of all the dead guys, and the first guy he could find anything on was Wayne. An old arrest report popped up from Savannah, Georgia."

"Are you telling me the rest of them are clean?" Deeks asked.

"He's still searching, Deeks."

"You can't tell me that some of those guys haven't been in trouble with the law," he replied.

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam said. "It could just mean they never got caught, as hard as that is to believe."

"Or someone's protecting them. Expunging their records," Deeks said. "If they have Federal agents on the payroll, they probably have a few local cops, politicians and district attorneys on speed dial too."

"Maybe even someone higher up the food chain…possibly someone in state government or even the Justice Department," Callen mused.

"So, what do we have on this Wayne Loftus guy?" Joe asked.

"Got picked up for dealing meth three years ago. Was bailed out by a cousin. Never showed for his hearing. Savannah PD still has an outstanding warrant on him. They think he had a connection to a major dealer in the area," Callen replied. "And there's another connection even more interesting. The cousin who bailed him out…Russell Decker…was one of the guys killed at the elk camp. He popped up in facial rec as a guy named Brody Russell."

"An alias?" Joe asked.

"Not from Georgia either," Callen said. "He grew up in Charleston, South Carolina."

"And that's probably where Wayne ended up," Sam said.

"What do we know about Brody?" Kensi asked.

"Worked at the Port of Charleston at one time," Callen said, as the phone rang again. "What is it, Eric?"

"Got hits on facial rec for a few more of these guys. None were born with the names they were using when they were killed."

"All of them had new identities?" Lily asked. "That's unusual."

"Yep, and so far, they all came from either South Carolina or Georgia. Mainly around Charleston and Savannah," he replied. "Not one from Wyoming."

"And none with a record?" Deeks asked.

"And no connection to each other that I can find…yet…except for the kissing cousins," Eric said. "But I did get some interest from the DEA on one of the names I ran. The one named Jessop."

"The guy in the sunglasses," Deeks said to Elan.

"The one Honcho bit," he replied.

"No surprise, but Jessop's not his real name either," Eric voiced from the phone. "And definitely a person of interest in one of the DEA's ongoing investigations."

"What investigation?" Sam asked.

"A big one from last year. The Port of Charleston is a known port of entry for massive amounts of drugs coming into this country. The DEA had an undercover agent in place with one of Charleston's smaller dealers and got intel that a major shipment was due to arrive last February. Someone blew his cover. He was killed before he could provide the name of who was behind it."

"Sonofabitch!" Deeks said. "Someone's got a leak."

"Did they find any connection to Jessop?" Callen asked.

"Like I said…he was only a person of interest. Jessop's real name was Jesse Calhoun. Part of a wealthy, influential family with a long history in the deep South. Disappeared after the DEA's initial interview. Family claimed he was traveling in Southeast Asia and couldn't be reached."

"And he turns up dead out here along with two others from the same area," Kensi said. "Why were they interested in him in the first place?"

"They wouldn't say, but they called Hetty as soon as they found out he was dead," Eric said. "And apparently the DEA wasn't the only federal agency interested. Nell said the Department of Justice wanted details. Got real pushy, too."

"This is bigger than we thought if the DOJ is involved," Callen said.

"There's a big fish just under the surface somewhere," Sam noted. "Too much interest for there not to be."

"Eric? Keep us updated," Callen ordered.

"Of course...even though I am technically on vacation."

"Sorry, Eric. Old habits."

"No worries, Callen. Happy to help no matter where I am. Stay safe everybody."

"We have our share of drug dealers out here, but no major cartels that I'm aware of right now in this part of Wyoming," Joe said.

"Call Hetty, G," Sam said. "If she's talking to the DOJ, she needs to get us some intel on who we're dealing with. If we go in blind tonight…"

Joe's phone went off to the sound of a barking dog, and everyone laughed, breaking the tension. It was a short conversation and Joe looked concerned when the call ended.

"There's a couple of FBI agents in Sheriff Sogard's office," he said. "They want to talk to us."

"Anyone in particular?" Callen smirked.

"All of us."

"They know Callen and I are here?" Sam asked.

"Not sure, but they're demanding to interview the people involved in the shootings," Joe replied. "Tom didn't sound pleased."

"Can we trust them?" Kensi asked. "Hetty said someone in the FBI was checking into Joe."

"Then let's go see if we can get a read on these FBI guys. We're good at that," Sam said. "Find out whose side they're on."

"I'm not going," Elan said. "They know who Deeks and Joe are, but if Hetty kept her word, they won't know me. If they are dirty, I want to keep it that way."

"Good idea. No need for them to know Lily and Kensi are in the game either," Callen said. "No harm in keeping a few cards up our sleeves."

…

Deeks normally got along with most law enforcement people, but the steely-eyed FBI agents that greeted them in Sheriff Sogard's office didn't encourage friendly interaction. They both looked like they were former military. One was black and the other white, both with close to the scalp haircuts and the prerequisite dark suits and tight around the neck ties, also dark. Their shirts were a crisp white, their shoes shined to perfection. Just the look of them put him off, especially after the critical visual examination he received when they saw him. They didn't smile. Didn't even offer to shake hands. All business and very officious. And it obviously pissed Joe off. The sheriff picked up on that too and stepped in to introduce his deputy.

"Gentlemen, this is my deputy, Joe Atwood. Joe, this is Agent Dickerson and Agent Foley of the FBI," Sogard said. "Joe was FBI before he came to us."

"We know all about Mr. Atwood," Dickerson asked. "He has quite a file."

"And quite a number of commendations," the sheriff shot back.

"And the other two and the hippie?" Foley asked with a smirk.

"Agent Callen, NCIS."

"And I'm the other one of the two. Special Agent Sam Hanna."

"My mother was the hippie," Deeks said. "Any other comments you'd like to make about her? No? Good. My name is Deeks. I'm an investigator for NCIS Office of Special Projects. Are you the assholes surreptitiously digging into our backgrounds, or are you the good guys?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Foley asked.

"The one you need to answer, or this meeting is over," Callen said.

"Let's all take a step back, here," Dickerson said. "Of course we checked you out before driving over from Cheyenne. It's protocol. But we didn't do it covertly as you suggested. We just like to know who we're dealing with. The brass in Washington is very interested in some of the dead guys you left lying around out here. We were sent to get a few more details on how they ended up dead."

"Washington was concerned Joe Atwood here might have gone off the reservation again," Foley sniped.

Joe turned and started for the door, but Sogard stepped in front of him just as Callen put a hand on Deeks' chest as he made a move toward the redhead.

"Looks like you two were a little lax in you research," Sam said as he angrily confronted the men. "Joe Atwood doesn't deserve that kind of comment from either one of you. He went undercover and nearly died trying to bring down a network of upper echelon government officials who were traitors to this country. So don't come in here and try to bad mouth a good man and expect us to cooperate in some half-assed investigation the FBI obviously blew."

"The FBI doesn't blow investigations," Dickerson said.

"The DEA is at fault. We were sent here to clean up their mess," Foley said.

"And you're really doing a bang-up job, gentlemen," Callen said with a smirk. "You can't seem to help yourselves, can you? First you try to insult my colleague and his mother. Then you denigrate a former agent with a commendation for his work from your own agency. Now you defame the DEA, and they're not even here to defend themselves."

"That's not quite true," a slender man said as he stepped inside the room. "Sheriff Sogard? One of your deputies said it would be okay if I joined you. I'm Taylor Longstreet. DEA."

The man spoke politely with a soft southern accent. He had curly, slightly long brown hair, a scruffy beard, and a face marred by bruises yet to heal. His hazel eyes were sharp, constantly moving over the people in front of him as if quietly assessing them. His muscles were well defined, and he was graceful in his movements. His hands looked as if he'd worked hard all his life, but when he shook hands, he put little pressure into his grip.

"See the FBI came stompin' in trackin' dirt," he said with a quick smile. "Some things never change."

"I'm surprised you still have a job, Longstreet," Foley snarked. "Why don't you tell these people why you left Washington with your tail between your legs."

Deeks watched for any kind of reaction, but it didn't come. Longstreet simply smiled and shook his head. When he looked at Deeks his eyes were slightly moist, and he saw his left hand shake slightly as he gently wrapped it around his midsection.

"You're Agent Marty Deeks…I read your file," Longstreet said. "You and Agent Callen were undercover with The Brotherhood. Got Joe Atwood out and took 'em down. Impressive as hell. Glad you made it out."

"Thanks. I've got a feeling you've been undercover yourself," Deeks said.

"Yeah…probably too many times," he replied. "Been on leave from the DEA since my last assignment."

"Got his partner killed," Foley said.

Longstreet moved so fast Deeks never had a chance to stop him. The agent had Foley on the floor in seconds, his tie gripped in his fist as he pressed his knee into his solar plexus. Sam and Callen grabbed Dickerson before he could do anything while Sheriff Sogard calmly shut the door.

"Don't even breathe his name, or even think it," Longstreet hissed, his accent thicker as he leaned in close. "You don't know fuck about shit, so shut the hell up."

He yanked the FBI agent up off the floor and shoved him into the nearest chair.

"I'm pressing charges, Longstreet," Foley raged. "This time you're finished."

"Can't say I'll be sorry if that's true," Longstreet said. "I apologize, Sheriff. Couldn't let it go. I know what the FBI did to Joe Atwood here, and now I know what that feels like. The DEA couldn't get out of its own way and decided to lay blame to cover their asses. I'm convinced the task force I was a part of had a leak. That leak got my partner killed. Somehow, they missed me."

"Not easy to live with," Joe said.

"Not by a long shot."

"He's a damn drunk," Foley hissed as he straightened his jacket and tie. "Looks to me like you ended up in the wrong bar, Longstreet. And lost the fight."

"You really have no idea when to shut up, do you?" Callen asked.

"It's okay," Longstreet said. "He's right, but only about the bar fight. I've been working off book the last few months. A couple of nights ago I was following a lead down by the docks in Charleston. Asked the wrong guy the wrong question. Got jumped for it."

"What lead might that be?" Deeks asked. "If you care to share."

"Not with the FBI," he replied.

"Sounds like that's your cue, gentlemen," Sogard said to the two FBI agents as he opened the door to the hall.

"We still have questions," Dickerson said.

"Why don't you write them down…or better yet…email them to me," Sogard said. "I'll get the answers for you as soon as I can."

"This isn't in your best interests, Sheriff," Foley said. "We're the FBI. We can make things uncomfortable for you and your friends here if you don't cooperate."

"I'm coming up for re-election next year," Sogard replied. "Would you like the name of my opponent? He could use a couple more donations to his campaign."

Foley was turning red as he confronted Callen and Sam. "Your boss will hear about this."

"Her name's Henrietta Lange," Callen said. "I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."

Foley was huffing mad when he left. Dickerson glared at them and shook his head as he followed him.

"Good talk," Deeks called out with a smile as Sogard closed the door behind them.

"He's a dick, or as my daddy used to say…'useless as tits on a bull'", Longstreet said and sunk into the nearest chair. "He has no idea who Hetty is, does he?"

"You know Hetty?" Callen asked.

"Only by reputation," he replied wearily. "My current handler worked with her in Naval Intelligence when he was in the field. Shared some stories…"

"Thought you said you were on a leave of absence," Deeks said.

"I lied. The man I'm after…the man I believe had my partner killed…has people on his payroll in very sensitive positions," Longstreet said. "When I saw Jessop and Russell Decker's name pop up on a search one of your people was conducting...let's just say it got my juices flowing. I met Jessop when I was undercover down on the docks. Can't say I'm sorry he's dead. His real name was Jesse Calhoun…"

"We know," Joe said. "He tried to kill my father."

"Damn it to hell," Longstreet whispered. "Then your daddy got too close to the man I'm after. You all did."

"And who might that be?" Deeks asked.

"A man who we had, and then let slip away eight months ago," he said, swaying slightly as he stood to face them. "He disappeared. The prevailing opinion was that he was holed up somewhere down in South America. Columbia topped the list. Wyoming wasn't even on the list."

"You think my dad saw him?" Joe said.

"Yeah, I do," Longstreet replied. "Is your dad okay? Is he somewhere safe?"

"He is."

"The rest of you need to find someplace safe too…until this is resolved," he said.

"And how are you gonna resolve it if you don't know exactly where he is?" Callen asked. "Do you even have a task force anymore?"

"And if the task force regroups, whoever outed your partner will probably still be there," Sam added.

Longstreet nodded and his face paled as he steadied himself on the table. Deeks took his arm and eased him back down into the chair.

"You got the shit beat out of you, didn't you?" Deeks said, as Sogard poured him a glass of water.

"I look better than you," the man said with a quick grin. "I have to get this guy…he..he's a monster. A real one."

"We've fought monsters before," Deeks said.

"But this one runs an organization full of them. Most of the task force wouldn't believe me. We should have held him without bail…" he said and closed his eyes. "My partner's name was Billy Waite. He was a good man, and a helluva undercover…"

He stopped, his emotions raw. He swallowed hard and continued. "Billy was a good ol' boy. Blended in with the type down South. Came from a close-knit family. Used to run shrimp boats out of Beaufort, South Carolina. Good people…"

He drank half a glass of water and then ran a hand down his face. He looked exhausted. No one prompted him, they simply let him take his time.

"If y'all have family…please get them the hell outa here."

"Already done," Joe said.

"I always thought I was a tough sonofabitch…until I saw what those bastards did to Billy's family," Longstreet choked out. "I won't let him do that to anyone else's."

…

…