The Family

Chapter 11

…

The isolation of failure hit him hard. He wasn't used to it. Hated it. Cursed it. But none of that could change it. He was alone with it. No one understood the emptiness he was feeling. Certainly not Kyle. All that man was doing was bellowing out angry swear words about Brother Ambrose and his incompetence. He was right, and that only added to the hollow feeling deep in his gut. He began questioning everything. His decisions especially. His impulsive reaction to the old cowboy topped the list. But that hadn't started it. No. This was Laurel's fault. Too bad she was already dead, because he was filled with a pulsating desire to shoot her in the face. Why the hell had he decided to listen to her? He didn't give a fuck about her many interior design ideas, so why the hell had he agreed to go hunting for a damn set of elk antlers? He had exposed himself to being seen. Now he wasn't even sure the old cowboy had seen him. Even if he had he wouldn't have known who he was. And that fuck Jessop had jumped the gun and started shooting before he could think it through. But he was the one who had panicked. He was the one who had sent those idiots after that old man. Why? Had being away from the day-to-day action for so long weakened him? Had he lost his edge? Did he deserve to remain the head of the family?

"Are you listening, Jeff? We gotta get the fuck outa here," Kyle screamed, pulling him around to face him. "No way I'm going to prison."

Suddenly all his indecision vanished. He hit Kyle square in the face. Blood spattered the bottles of bourbon and colored the liquor in the cut glass tumbler he'd been drinking from. It silenced Kyle's ranting, and he realized that's exactly what he needed. Silence. Silence so he could think. Silence, so his rage could fill the empty hole left by tonight's failure.

"Fuck that," Hyde said coldly. "I'm not running, and neither are you."

"You broke my nose, you sonofabitch," Kyle said, sounding surprisingly chastened.

"I'll hit you again if you don't settle down and tell me who the hell was left standing."

Kyle pushed past him and opened the ice bucket and spread out a bar towel. He scooped ice into the towel and twisted it closed, groaning as he applied the compress to his broken nose. Jeff gave him a few minutes to calm down and stop the bleeding, but he still needed an answer.

"Talk to me. Now…dammit."

"Okay, okay. I circled back and saw them put Tilly in a squad car," Kyle said without looking at him. "I think Ambrose is still alive. Saw him loaded into an ambulance. As for the rest of 'em…it didn't look good. Not sure what happened to the guy I shot, but it took me a while to get back there. There was a coroner's van and a couple of ambulances driving away when I got in position. So, who the hell knows?"

"Did Ambrose and his boys take out any of those fuckers?"

"How the fuck should I know? All hell broke loose out there, man. It was a firefight. Everybody was yelling. The caboose was in flames. It was a fucking madhouse. It was a trap, Jeff. I shoulda listened to Tilly. She thought the guy she met in the bar knew the hippy and the Indian. I blew her off…"

"And you didn't think that was something I needed to know?" Jeff exploded. "I'd shoot you right now if I didn't need you."

"Don't even think about tryin'," he growled.

Ignoring the implied threat, Hyde began pacing. "Tilly won't talk, but Brother Ambrose might. I didn't like the look in his eyes when he first got here. It wouldn't be a shocker if he sells me out and makes a deal. For all I know he's been working with the Feds all along."

"Yeah…funny they haven't been able to nail his ass all these years," Kyle said, sloshing a splash of bourbon into a glass.

"Fucking hilarious."

"Sure you don't want to cut our losses and head home to Charleston? There's a couple of places the Feds might not know about."

"And what do I tell the family?" He asked. "That I can't even take down a bunch of damn local cowboys and one fucking Indian?"

"Those weren't cowboys out there tonight, Jeff. Those guys were pros. Probably Feds. They might even have had snipers. Thought I heard a long rifle. Maybe two. They were waiting for us, and we walked right into it."

"We wouldn't have if you had questioned Tilly a little bit more instead of thinking about getting into her pants."

"We both made mistakes here, Jeff, so you got no room to point fingers."

"You're right." The feeling of defeat rising once again.

"What now?"

"Call the Colombians. Last time I checked, Suarez was in Miami. They got a stake in this, and he owes me. Let's rain some of Brother Ambrose's fire and brimstone down on 'em…South American style."

"You sure Suarez will come? He might not want the exposure."

"He's also a hothead," Hyde said. "He'll come if I tell him these fucking Feds highjacked one of his shipments."

"In Wyoming?"

"He's lethal. I didn't say he was smart," Hyde said, his rage now full-fledged and hot. "Gather the men we have left and get Russell back here with the chopper…just in case we get sold out. And wake up your FBI contact. I paid him a lot of money, so he damn well owes me that information on where these people live. Then we go on the offensive. I need to kill one of those fuckers up close and personal. It might give me my edge back."

…

Kensi's warm hand on his shoulder woke him. Sleeping in a hospital waiting room was never comfortable, but he hadn't intended to fall asleep. He rubbed his face and looked at her as she brushed his hair away from his face. She didn't even look tired. After the craziness of last night's firefight, she had been the first one to reach him and her calm, steady presence was the only thing that had kept him from doing something he might have regretted. Now she was beside him once more and he felt anchored. She looked unshaken by it all, but she did look concerned and that scared him.

"Did something happen?" He asked. "Is it Longstreet? Did he…did he die?"

"No, honey. He's out of surgery," she said gently. "They just took him up to the ICU."

"What did the doctors say? Is he gonna be all right?"

"He's critical."

"Can we see him?"

"The surgeon said not until sometime tomorrow."

"If it hadn't been for him, it could be me in the ICU…or the morgue," he said softly. "That woman was aiming for my head, Kens."

"I saw it, but only for a split second. Longstreet took her down before I had time to fire. We owe him," she said, caressing one cheek as she kissed the other. "It happened so fast. I know everyone says that, but if it wasn't for him, last night could have been…I could have lost you, baby."

"But you didn't," Deeks said and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. "I really hope he makes it, Kens. He's one of the good guys."

"Think positive, baby."

They sat holding each other in a cold, overly lit waiting room, each lost in their own thoughts. Deeks watched a couple of the night nurses gossiping and laughing softly in front of one of the rooms. He felt detached, and very tired. He still ached from what he'd suffered at the hands of a dead assassin. The world he had here, the one he always thought of as solid ground, was shifting, spinning into a turbulent ongoing nightmare. Stopping that nightmare was just out of reach and it made him antsy and angry. Good men had suffered because of one fugitive who should still be in jail. His family was faced with uncertainty, and he prayed they would all still be standing when this was over.

"What about Henry Tarver?"

"He's hurting but he'll be fine. One of the bullets broke a rib, but he'd be dead if he hadn't been wearing a vest."

"Still no ID on Longstreet's shooter?"

"That van Sogard was driving couldn't keep up," Kensi said. "He's pissed they lost them and so is Joe, who's still at the crime scene. Our job is to question the old guy Joe shot…once he wakes up. Sheriff Sogard went with Callen and Sam. They're interrogating the woman. Her name's Tilly. Wouldn't give a last name. Had no ID on her either. They're putting her photo through facial rec. Sent it to Interpol too. Callen thinks she's Czech."

"Did she tell them anything? Like where the hell this Jefferson Hyde guy is hold up?"

"No pertinent information yet," smiling as she said it. "But according to Sam, Tilly tried to seduce Callen."

"Seriously? That must have been fun to watch," Deeks said, finally smiling.

"Sam was practically giggling over the phone. He said she got turned on when Callen spoke to her in Czech," she replied. "Sam loved watching Callen squirm. Pretty sure Callen didn't appreciate it though."

"What did she think that would accomplish?"

"She wants a deal…what else?"

"What else was she offering…besides herself?" Deeks asked. "Did she give us any new information about this Jefferson Hyde guy?"

"Not much, but she did give us the name of Hyde's second in command. Name's Kyle Taft," Kensi said. "Sam said she really hates the guy. Told them the guy killed Hyde's wife. On Hyde's orders."

"Why? And what kind of people do that?"

"Real sick ones," Kensi said and intertwined her arm with his. "This whole thing seems senseless. Tilly said all this started when Hyde's wife Laurel wanted a set of elk antlers for the living room. So, he took his men and went hunting."

"And ran into George," Deeks said sadly.

"After last night maybe he'll cut and run," Kensi said.

"And if he does, I won't be able to keep my promise to Taylor Longstreet."

"I'm kind of hoping he does run," she replied. "Those FBI guys you met can hunt him down."

"Don't think I can trust them to do that," Deeks said wearily. "Have you seen Elan and Lily?"

"They went back to the ranch to take care of the horses," Kensi said. "And Joe said we could get some sleep at his house. With Di and the kids gone, there's plenty of room. It's been a long night."

"And thanks to these chairs my butt is already asleep." Deeks replied and yawned. "Guess that old bad guy isn't going anywhere. The sheriff has a couple of deputies watching his room."

"Then let's go. I'll make you some of the good coffee Di keeps."

"Sounds like heaven."

In May, Joe and Di had closed on a house on forty-five acres outside of Rawlins. It backed up to BLM land, so it seemed bigger. There was a barn and corral for their horses, and it was only a little over twenty minutes from the sheriff's office. It was a somewhat isolated, but Joe liked that about it, even though Di didn't. But it was close to the hospital where she worked as a physical therapist three times a week, and she liked that it was theirs. The kids had a big, fenced yard to play in and they could take family rides out on the BLM land, have a picnic and see for miles from the low rolling hills behind their house. Even though it was hard for Deeks to picture Joe not being at the ranch, the place was right for his family. And for now, it would offer Deeks and Kensi normality as well as a place to rest and gather strength and to plan for whatever was coming. They both knew this thing was far from over.

…

The drive out to Joe's new place had been relaxing and Deeks nodded off a couple of times. At one point he heard Kensi on the phone talking to Di, reassuring her that Joe was fine. He interrupted to remind her to keep both hands on the wheel and to watch the road, then drifted off for the third time. This time he woke only when the car slowed as they crossed a cattle guard and turned onto a gravel road.

"Are we there yet?" He asked with a sleepy smile.

"The house is just up ahead behind those trees," she said, and then sucked in a breath.

"What?"

"There's a car outside," she replied. "With a guy leaning against it."

As their headlights flashed across the figure, it lit up a badge he was holding up.

"That's one of the FBI agents. Name's Foley," Deeks said as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What the hell is he doing here? It's three in the morning."

"Must be urgent."

They pulled to a stop facing the man, fully illuminating him with their headlights. He waved and Deeks shrugged at Kensi and pushed his door open and hopped out.

"Agent Foley. Can't say it's a pleasure," Deeks said, stretching to get the kinks out. "What brings you out so early in the morning? Thought FBI agents had a nine to five job."

"This your wife or a late-night hook-up?" Foley asked.

"Callen was right…you just can't help yourself. This is my wife, Kensi. Try not to insult her again or we'll both kick your ass," Deeks replied. "Now what the hell are you doing here?"

"Just received some critical intel I thought Joe Atwood might be interested in," Foley said. "But no one was home. Tried to call the sheriff's office. Nobody picked up. Guess they're all out at the crime scene. I heard about what happened. Sounded like the shit hit the fan. When I heard your car coming…I thought it might be him."

"Where's your partner?" Deeks asked.

"He's the nine to five type of agent," Foley replied with a brief grin. "Surprised Joe's family isn't here. They on vacation or something?"

"Or something," Deeks said. "You can give me the intel."

"Can I do it over a cup of coffee? It's cold out here."

Kensi gave Deeks an annoyed look but moved to the front door and opened it with the key Di had given them the last time they were here.

"The FBI teaches us to be polite, so after you, Agent Deeks," Foley said.

Deeks thought it was an odd comment as he walked past the man, unable to react fast enough before he was struck by a searing flash of pain and sudden oblivion.

…

"I'm beginning to understand why Hetty drinks tea, "Callen said, grimacing as he took a swallow of the day-old coffee at the sheriff's office. "I think this stuff could grow hair. Want to try it, Sam?"

"I'm surprised you still have a sense of humor after all this," Sam said.

"I can make a new pot," Sheriff Sogard offered as he slumped wearily into an office chair.

"I'll do it," Joe said. "That's his coffee you're drinking."

"What can I say…I've been busy. I made it yesterday," Sogard said defensively.

"And nobody drank it," Joe laughed. "Just so you know, the guys use it to unclog the drains in the bathroom."

"Got any tea?" Callen asked with a smirk.

"Let me look," Joe said. "Hey…anybody talk to Deeks lately? He looked pretty ragged when he headed for the hospital. I told him he could crash at our house. You guys can too. Di keeps a secret stash of expensive coffee beans."

"Now that sounds like a plan," Sam said as Callen's cell sounded off.

"Good morning, Hetty," Callen said, putting her on speaker. "Anything new you can tell us?"

"First…Is everyone okay?" She asked.

"The team is fine, Hetty, but Henry Tarver took a couple of rounds in the vest. Saved his life, but he's still spending the night in the hospital," Callen reported. "The DEA agent I told you about took the worst of it. He's critical."

"Taylor Longstreet. I'm sorry to hear that," Hetty said. "I'll let his handler know."

"Understand he's an old friend of yours," Sam said.

"He is. Christopher Russo," she said. "One of the most stubborn men I've ever known. Smart. Loyal to a fault. Protects his people religiously, so he won't be happy when I tell him his man is down."

"Let him know Longstreet saved Deeks' life tonight," Callen said.

"And now I owe him even more than I did before," she replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I sent him photographs of the men who were part of last night's attack. He identified the old man as a preacher with his own church full of ex-cons down in South Carolina. They call him Brother Ambrose, and he's a drug dealer who has yet to be brought to ground until now. His full name is Ambrose Beauregard Hood. Quite a mouthful, isn't it? He's a descendant of John Bell Hood, Robert E. Lee's rather unsuccessful general in the Civil War."

"Losing must be in his genes then, cause old Ambrose lost a battle last night," Callen said. "And most, if not all of his men."

"Has he been questioned yet?" She asked.

"That was part of Deeks and Kensi's assignment," Callen noted.

"Aren't they with you?"

"I think they're crashing at my place by now," Joe responded. "But I haven't heard from either of them."

"Call Mr. Deeks please," Hetty ordered. "My friend, Mr. Russo, is the Special Agent in Charge of the task force that's been looking for Jefferson Hyde. According to him, he was close to flipping Ambrose Hood. A tentative deal was on the table for him to provide inside information on Hyde before he and a few of his sons suddenly slipped out from under their surveillance and disappeared. He had no idea Ambrose was in Wyoming."

"Well, he has leverage on him now," Callen said.

"And he'll be using it as soon as he arrives," Hetty said. "But don't feel you have to wait. If we can get Ambrose to give us Hyde's location, go for it. This has gone on long enough."

"I'll call Deeks," Joe said. "Maybe he got a chance to talk to the old man before he left the hospital."

They all waited as the phone rang and rang, becoming anxious the longer it did. Sam quickly called Kensi and got the same.

"Let's go," Callen said. "Somethings wrong. Even if they were sleeping, one of them would have picked up."

"Mr. Callen… be careful," Hetty said. "If they have been taken, it could be a trap."

"Don't you think we know that?" Joe snapped.

"Joe…" Sheriff Sogard said as he gripped his shoulder.

"Of course, I do, Joe, but you all need to be cautious," she replied gently. "Going off half-cocked won't help. You need to be focused and strong. I'm afraid you need to be prepared for what you may find, Joe. So, stay sharp…you need to be here when your family returns."

Joe nodded and blew out his breath, his eyes red with barely held tears. A pall of sadness and anxiety hung over them all as they checked their weapons. Callen wrapped up the conversation with Hetty and headed for the door. Sogard suddenly stepped in front of Joe, stopping him with a hand on his chest.

"Didn't you tell me you installed outside security cameras when you moved out there?" The sheriff asked.

"Damn it. Things have been so crazy that slipped my mind," Joe said and fumbled in his pocket for his phone. "I can access them from my phone."

They all gathered tightly around him as he punched in a time. Black and white images flashed across the small screen, showing a dark SUV parking in front and a man in a suit approaching the front door.

"What the hell? That's Agent Foley. That obnoxious FBI agent," the sheriff said.

They watched him as he went back to his car and made a phone call. After some time and a fast forward through the footage, a flash of headlights lit up the scene. Foley showed his badge and Deeks got out. Kensi followed. There was a brief conversation and then Kensi walked to the front door and let herself inside. Deeks could be seen passing by the agent, blocking their view of the man until suddenly collapsing to the ground.

"Sonofabitch!" Joe shouted. "He cold-cocked him."

"I think we just found our dirty FBI agent," Callen said.

"I'll kill that bastard," Joe growled.

"Keep watching," Sam said, pointing at the screen.

Two men came out carrying Kensi, and a third one followed, helping Foley drag Deeks to the back of the agent's SUV where they dropped him on the ground. The camera's view was partially block by the car, but they could see a man search Deeks and relieve him of his gun and his cell phone. Another man did the same to Kensi. Both phones were thrown into the trees, and the agent appeared to be arguing with the man hovering over Deeks. The agent was unceremoniously shoved toward the driver's door. He looked angry but got in when the man pulled a gun. Deeks and Kensi were tied up and loaded into the back. Both remained unconscious. Then they were gone.

"They're alive," Sam said as they watched the last of the footage.

"But for how long?" Joe said, and threw his coffee cup against the nearest wall. "We have no idea where they're being taken."

"I'll put out a BOLO on the car and license plate," Sogard said. "But there are a lot of back roads around here…"

"What about the other agent? Foley's partner?" Callen asked, his eyes intense. "Dickerson. Did he leave his card?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sogard said and rushed out of the room.

"What are you thinking, G?" Sam asked.

"We can't track Deeks and Kensi's phones, but we can track Foley's," he replied as the sheriff came back in punching in a number on his cell phone.

"What if he's dirty too?" Joe asked. "And what if Foley's using a burner instead of his government issued one?"

"We're about to find out," Sam said.

A sleepy voice cursed and coughed. "What the hell? It's four in the damn morning, Sheriff."

"And your partner is dirty as shit and now a fugitive," Sogard growled into the phone. "He just assaulted and helped kidnap two federal agents. If you had anything to do with this, you better run like hell. If you didn't, you better give me Foley's cell number, right damn now."

"And if you warn him? We will come for you," Callen said.

"Got it. You want to track him," Dickerson said. "I'll call the Cheyenne office and get them started."

"No. You won't," Callen said. "This happens through us. He may not be the only one in your office on Jefferson Hyde's payroll."

"I should have known," Dickerson said.

"Yeah, you should," Joe shouted.

"I just texted you the number," he said. "I'm in town. Let me come with you. I should be the one to take Foley down."

"Can we trust you?"

"I heard what happened last night, and I've been working the case," Dickerson said. "From what I learned, you're gonna need all the backup you can get. I picked up intel that the Colombians are on the move. Could be headed your way."

"Be here in fifteen minutes," Callen said. "We aren't gonna wait."

"Copy that."

…