The Family

Chapter 12

…

Callen didn't know where Agent Dickerson had been staying, but he arrived in the parking lot of the sheriff's department in a little under twelve minutes. He wasn't dressed in his generic FBI suit either. He was wearing a gray FBI sweatshirt though and jeans. And he looked and sounded sincerely pissed, his first words indicating some guilt as well.

"I fucking should have known."

"And why's that?" Callen asked.

"We've only been partners for six months," he explained. "Foley came out from the Atlanta office at his own request. Being assigned to Cheyenne is a big step down by anyone's standards. Mine included. So why request it? I asked him. He told me to fuck off, that his business was his business. I didn't ask him again, but I did do some checking just to make sure he hadn't fucked up and got his last partner killed or something."

"And?" Sam asked.

"He told the head of the Atlanta bureau that he was getting stressed out," Dickerson said. "And that might have been true. He had just finalized his divorce. Had lost his house and his kid…"

"But it bothered you," Callen cut in.

"Foley is an arrogant prick. I've worked with him long enough to know he's not the type to get demoralized over things, including a divorce he initiated. So, I dug a little deeper. He'd been part of a blown bust one month prior, working in a combined task force with the DEA out of Charleston going on three months. They were tracking a group of Colombians that had connections there. They got intel that a big shipment of cocaine was coming in on one of the docks. Got all set up, but the Colombians never showed. Everybody took heat. Somebody had tipped them off, but nobody knew who. After that Foley claimed he needed a quieter post for personal reasons. Asked for Cheyenne, and because he had a good record, he got it. And I got saddled with him."

"And now you think he was the one who warned the Colombians," Joe said.

"Or their Charleston connection," he said.

"Jefferson Hyde already had him in his pocket," Callen reasoned.

"Tilly," Sam said, smiling at Callen, who glared back. "Hey…she tried it with you. Doesn't take much of a leap to believe she's done it before. Only it worked with Foley. Probably why he got a divorce."

"He's in deep, that's for sure," Sheriff Sogard said. "He might have gotten seduced by that woman, but I'm thinking it was the money they offered that made him cross the line."

"And now the bastard has served up Deeks and Kensi," Joe said.

"You think Jefferson Hyde is the Charleston connection to the Colombians?" Dickerson asked.

"That's what Taylor Longstreet believes," Callen said.

"He's the other reason I should have known there was something off about Foley," Dickerson said. "His reaction when the office called to tell us about your firefight and that Longstreet had gone down…was odd, and downright cold."

"What the hell did he say?" Joe asked.

"That he got what he deserved," Dickerson replied. "But the strange thing was…he didn't seem surprised about any of it. We were having dinner, and after that call he just got up and left. Stuck me with the bill…again. He was on his phone almost immediately. That's why I should have known and that's why I need to take him down. I didn't pick up on his reaction until you called tonight. If I had acted on my suspicions right then, confronted him…your agents might not have been taken."

No one wanted to verbally agree with him, but the truth of his admission hung in the darkness between them.

"That sonofabitch had my address," Joe said. "He set the whole thing up."

"Is that where he got to them?" Dickerson asked, looking stricken. "My God…your family…were they…?"

"They weren't there," Joe said.

"Thank God," Dickerson whispered. "But that's who they were going for. You and your family."

"He's right," Callen said. "They couldn't have known Kensi and Deeks were going to be there. It was you they were after Joe. If they got Di and the kids…"

"I would have told them whatever they wanted to know," Joe said without energy. "It's my fault…"

"No. It isn't," Sogard said firmly. "It's Foley's fault. And we need to find out where he's taking them."

"Call Eric, G. He should have something from Foley's phone by now," Sam said. "Time's running out."

Callen called and put the cell on speaker, laying it on the hood of the sheriff's SUV. Everyone stared at it, waiting for any intel that would allow them to break the tension they were feeling and give them a direction to follow.

"Hey, Callen. Good timing," Eric's usually cheerful voice now muted and intense. "Agent Foley is using his official cell phone, and it just came on. I'm pinging it now… hold on…"

"Eric?" Callen was practically vibrating as they waited for his intel.

"His signal just pinged south of Saratoga," Eric said in a rush. "They are headed south on Spring Creek Road."

"I know it. Let's move," Joe shouted, rushing to take the driver's seat.

They all squeezed in, and Joe roared out of the parking lot. They raced through Rawlins to the interstate with sirens blaring and lights flashing, each of them silently dealing with what might lay ahead.

"How far?" Callen asked.

"That road cuts off Route 130 south of Saratoga, and we're already an hour behind them," Joe said as he wove through slower traffic.

"I doubt they're going as fast as we are," Callen said.

"You're doing fine, Joe. Just keep pushing it," Sam said. "G's used to it."

"Callen? Call Elan," Joe said. "He'll never forgive any of us if we don't. I think we're gonna need Lily too. Seven shooters are better than five any day."

"And If we have to go in hot, two vehicles are better than one," Sam said.

Callen's call to Elan took less than thirty seconds. "They'll be waiting to join up in Saratoga."

Joe cut off Interstate 80 and hit Route 130 doing ninety miles an hour.

"I better warn Chief Hartmann in Saratoga we're coming through," the sheriff said. "He can have his deputies make sure we've got a clear path through town. Don't need an accident right now."

"Tell him to hurry, cause we're gonna hit town in about twenty minutes," Joe said.

"Eric?" Callen yelled into his phone. "Give me an update. Where are they?"

"They've turned east off Spring Creek Road…wait…"

"Eric?"

"Sorry, guys. I lost the signal. He must have shut off his phone," Eric said. "But you're definitely gaining on them. I can let you know when you reach the turnoff. They're approximately forty-five minutes ahead of you."

"Copy that," Callen replied.

Joe slowed down to seventy when they reached the outskirts of Saratoga, where they picked up an escort of police cars with sirens blaring and lights flashing. Every traffic light in Saratoga was green as they sped down First Street. At intersections without lights, flares burned an eerie magenta in the cold emptiness of the sleeping town.

"Thanks for the assist, Pete," Sogard yelled into his phone. "Once we're out of town, have your guys drop back. We don't want these assholes to know we're coming."

By the time they passed the Whistle Pig Saloon Joe was doing a hundred. It's where they lost their escort, but with the promise to be close by when they needed backup. Elan roared up on their tail in the ranch truck and flashed his lights.

"If Deeks was here, he'd be yelling 'Yee-Ha'," Joe said as he cut his flashing lights and siren.

"We'll get them back, Joe," Callen said quietly from the back seat.

"Just so you know, Agent Dickerson…I think of Deeks as my brother, and so does the man following us," Joe said. "I lost my real brother in Iraq. I didn't respond well then, and I won't respond well if it happens now. If I lose Deeks, your partner is going down. Hard. So don't get in my way."

"You're an officer of the law," Dickerson said.

"So was your partner until he wasn't," Sam said. "Foley chose his side, now you have to choose yours."

"This is about family," Joe said. "If you want out, I'll pull over and let you out, if you stay you need to realize this is probably going to get ugly. These people tried to kill my whole family, and Deeks and Kensi are part of that family."

"So, are you in or are you out, Agent Dickerson?" Callen asked.

"Call me Moses…or Mose."

"Now there's a real Old Testament name," Sogard remarked.

"My mom is a dyed-in-the-wool Baptist and loves the Old Testament. I've got two brothers. She named by oldest brother Hezekiah, and my middle brother Absalom. I was just lucky she was reading Exodus when she had me," Dickerson said. "I have a tight knit family too, Deputy Atwood. I would do anything for my brothers, so I will watch your back, but I will take Foley in alive if I can."

…

The twists and turns of the road woke him. The pain at the base of his skull was intense and he squeezed his eyes shut against it as the road became bumpy. They were crammed together in the back of an SUV with not a lot of wiggle room. Both had their hands tied behind their backs, so it was hard to get comfortable. A light kick to his ankle made him turn his head toward Kensi. Even in the dark he could tell she was mad as hell. His own temper flared when he saw the red marks on her neck where they'd hit her with a stun gun. The streak of blood along her jaw showed how hard she'd fought.

"You okay?" She whispered.

"No. Are you?" He shook his head as he whispered back, which wasn't a good idea as a wave of dizziness swept over him.

She shifted her body toward his until he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face. It was still dark out, and cold. Her nearness was comforting, and he sighed at the thought that this might be the last time he would be able to touch her. She nestled in close enough for him to kiss the top of her head and he heard her expel a halting breath of air that he could see as it dissipated in the cold air.

"I love you," he barely whispered.

She lifted her face to his and even though they were in awkward positions, she managed to kiss him. The taste and softness of her lips was almost his undoing. Even in the dark he could see she had tears in her eyes. So did he. She tucked her head beneath his chin and let out a slow breath. He wanted to tell her everything she meant to him, but didn't, not wanting their kidnappers to know they were awake. She moaned as she tried to get into a more comfortable position, and he hated that he couldn't wrap his arms around her and hold her. He knew they would probably never see another day. They would never again steal kisses when the team wasn't looking, or laugh as they bantered over silly things, or share one of his frittatas for breakfast. They would never walk along the beach, listening to the cries of the gulls, and the washing of the waves on the sand. He would never touch her silky skin again or feel her lips on his own. They would never make love in the stillness of the night. She would never bear his child, and he would never be the father he wanted to be. He wondered if their lives had always been destined to end this way. Violently. Sadly. Watching each other take their last breath. He prayed it would end quickly for her, but if he saw even a split second of a chance to save her, he would gladly give his life to do that.

"Wake up back there," a deep voice growled above them. "In a couple of minutes, we gonna have us some fun. But you ain't gonna like it much."

The cornball accent sounded like something out of the old TV reruns he used to watch…The Beverly Hillbillies or the Dukes of Hazzard. Only he wasn't laughing, and these guys weren't funny. They were hardcore killers, and he was about to meet the godfather of this violent family of thugs. He felt Kensi recoil as the back hatch rose to reveal three men waiting. All armed and not a smile between them.

"Pretty ugly welcoming committee, don't you think, Kens?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," one said.

"Get 'em inside. It's cold out here." The voice was high but authoritative and he noticed how quickly the men moved to carry out his orders.

Kensi didn't go easily, kicking one man solidly right in his most vulnerable parts, making Deeks proud as the man gasped in pain and stumbled back. Deeks slammed his boot into the mouth of the next man, his anger full blown, wanting to fight until the end.

"Use the damn stun gun, you idiots," the man with the high voice shouted from the open door of a well-lit horse barn.

He felt Kensi go rigid and it sent him into a rage, kicking and cursing them as he struggled against their clawing fingers. The jolt from the stun gun took some of the fight out of him, but not all. When they finally had him on the ground, he twisted his head looking for Kensi, but couldn't find her. He panicked and shouted her name. Several pissed off bad guys hauled him to his feet and shoved him into the side of the car. A huge man with a gnarled face and icy blue eyes slammed his hand into his throat and thrust the stun gun into his chest, holding it there until he collapsed to the ground.

"I like a fighter, but you won't beat the odds this time," he said, his high-pitched voice breathless and bizarre.

"His name's Deeks," Foley said. "The woman is his wife."

"Why are you still here, Foley?" The man asked as Deeks struggled to emerge from the fog of pain.

"Tilly. I need to see her, Kyle. Is she here?" Foley asked, sounding desperate.

"She was arrested last night," Kyle replied. "You would know that if you'd been paying attention."

Foley suddenly reached down and yanked Deeks' head up. "Where are they holding her? Tell me, you hippy bastard, or I'll beat it out of your hot little wife."

"And what gave you the idea you were in charge here, Agent Foley?"

This voice was a deep purr, and Deeks looked up to see the man he knew must be Jefferson Hyde. The man was physically impressive, one of those men you knew instinctively not to mess with. His steel gray hair was slicked back from his forehead and his square jaw was rough with stubble. He was noticeably angry, and Foley seemed to shrink as the man strode into his space.

"Just cause she fucked you, doesn't mean she belongs to you," Hyde said in a rather elegant sounding southern accent. "She fucks who I tell her to fuck. It's the only reason she fucked you, Foley. The only reason. Now get the hell out of here. Go on back to your little FBI office and do what I pay you to do."

"That's…that's not true," Foley stammered. "She…"

"She what? Loves you?" He said with contempt. "Tilly doesn't love anyone. Especially a little turd like you. Now get the fuck out of here. We need answers from this so-called Fed, and we don't need you to get them."

It was too dark for Deeks to read the expression on Foley's face. He sensed his anger though. And his defeat. The insults had been pointed and had hit home hard. The agent turned and walked away without another word, and Deeks actually felt a little sorry for him, but only for a second.

"Guess that means you don't believe in true love, yeah?" Deeks said.

Hyde grabbed his shirt with both hands and hauled him to his feet. He smelled of alcohol and hatred. The intense man leaned in close, choking him as his dark eyes bore into his own.

"I want the Indian that killed Soji," he said. "Tell me where he is and I might not give your wife to Kyle. She won't like what he does to her body, and neither will you when I make you watch."

Deeks instantly pushed free of the car and head butted the man, breaking his nose. Hyde bellowed in rage as he stumbled back, but he didn't fall. He charged, backhanding him with a powerful fist that made it seem as if his eye would explode. It dropped him to his knees.

"You'll regret that," Hyde said as he stood over him.

"No I won't," Deeks managed to say as two men yanked him up.

Hyde bent down and picked the stun gun up from the ground, and Deeks tried to prepare himself. The blue-eyed man named Kyle walked up with a disturbing smile on his face. He stepped between them and examined Hyde's face.

"He got you good, Jeff."

"My turn."

"Let's not rush things. Let's enjoy the moment," Kyle replied, gently patting Hyde on the chest before turning to face Deeks.

"Stun guns work better against naked skin," he breathed out, as he slowly began to unbutton Deeks' shirt. His ice blue eyes never left his face, his tongue flicking out through his lips as each button came undone.

"I know from personal experience," he murmured. "Colombians are experts at torture. One guy in particular showed me just what a stun gun can do to the human body if you know how to use it. I have burns that remind me every day what that fucker did to me. Want to know what I did to him? Or maybe a demonstration will be more effective."

Deeks closed his eyes as the man spread his shirt open. He was determined not to scream.

…

The ringing of Moses Dickerson's phone cut through the sound of the tires racing over the dark road. It was five-thirty in the morning, so everyone was curious and turned to watch as he pulled it out of his pocket.

"I'll be damn. It's Foley."

Callen quickly alerted Eric Beale as Dickerson answered. "Hey, Roger. What the hell did you do?"

The man's low voice filled the car. "I made a mistake, man. A bad one."

"Yeah, you did."

"You know, don't you?" Foley asked.

"Atwood had security cameras," Dickerson said. "Those two are federal agents, Roger. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, I guess."

"Tell me where you are, Roger. Right now," Dickerson demanded. "You need to make this right before it's too late."

"I think it already is, Mose."

A distant screaming curse punctuated Foley's statement, and Joe almost drove off the road. Sam tried to take the phone from Dickerson's hand, but the man yanked it away.

Dickerson held up his fist to signal the others to be quiet. "You're better than this, Roger…or you used to be. Don't go down with this on your conscience, man. You're an FBI agent. And at one time you were a good one."

"You're tracking me, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am, but you need to tell me where you are so I can help you get out from under this."

"I'll leave my phone on. It'll make it easier for you to find this fucking place," Foley said. "Don't take too long, Mose. This Deeks guy is holding tough, but I don't know for how long. Tell his family I'm sorry. Tell mine too."

"Roger? Roger! Answer me, man," Dickerson shouted into the phone.

Eric Beale's weary voice filled the void left by Foley. "Hey guys…I've got a strong signal now. Take a right in about one mile. Keep us posted. We'll be waiting. I always hated the waiting part."

…

…