The interrogation rooms were stuffy, deliberately so to make their new inhabitants feel a little less comfortable and hopefully a little more likely to cooperate. In reality, the team knew that no matter where a suspect or criminal was interrogated, it frequently came down to a battle of words, particularly if they were lacking in evidence. Would law enforcement be able to phrase questions, play the semantics game, cajole, persuade and encourage a confession? Could veiled or unveiled threats work? A little blackmail or a few little white lies from the agents might work. Or would the suspect hold resolute and not break, maybe even throwing a curve ball to move the heat away from themselves? In many ways it was a game to be won one round at a time. The NCIS team typically embraced the harder fights, using subterfuge and intelligence, however it was rare they encountered adversaries that challenged them at such a high standard.

Deeks and Callen had the initial responsibility of observing both Josh and Ariel from the ops centre. Both had arrived separately and been placed in different rooms. Their body language revealed very little and despite best efforts with room temperature, both seemed fairly relaxed. There was no involuntary jiggling of the knees or drumming of fingertips on the table. They were cool, calm and composed, the epitome of criminals who knew they had already won the war.

'Joshua Lyneham,' Sam said, sitting down opposite the man they believed was in charge and framed Callen.

'Or should we call you Daniel Miller, as that's your real and legal name. Daniel Joshua Miller.' Kensi stated, easing into the chair next to Sam.

'Now why would any law-abiding citizen change their name, Kensi?' He replied.

'I don't know Sam, but I'm sure it can't be for any legitimate reason.' Kensi opened the file in front of her. 'Now let's see...'

Sam and Kensi summarised Lyneham's life story. Nell and Eric had dug deep during recent weeks, prising open the nuggets of information Callen had fed them and further checking additional data revealed during his debrief. They recounted his childhood abandonment by his drug addicted mother, his various foster homes and repeated brushes with the law as a juvenile. They then followed the disappearance of Daniel Miller and the first records of Joshua Lyneham as he escaped from one institution to only join another - the marines. Lyneham's successful spell in the military was peppered with minor infractions and ended with an honourable discharge and a severe case of PTSD, which left him unable to cope with civilian life. Joshua Lyneham vanished from society to re-emerge ten years later, shortly before the VA medical centre attacks. He had been arrested at the ranch, amidst a stockpile of illegal weapons in the terrorist community he had built around him. Sam detailed his relationship with Anton DuValle and their plans to attack the government agencies and the institutions that had controlled and contributed to the ruin of his life.

Lyneham sat and listened in silence. His face betrayed no signs of acknowledgement or emotion. He knew most of the information relayed was easily discoverable, even to a lesser-known federal agency who was probably had to work in conjunction with the FBI. His mind wandered to the undercover FBI agent who tried and failed to get anywhere close to the ranch a while ago...The earlier raid had been efficient and effective, and when he was in handcuffs, he had witnessed officers head directly to key locations, noticeably the barn which housed a variety of automatic guns, grenades and launchers, as well as surveillance drones. They had known exactly where to go and which individuals to target, arrest and remove from the property first. There was most definitely a mole in the camp.

'Hey!' Sam clicked his fingers at Lyneham, waving them in front of his face. 'Focus. What do you have to say?'

'You haven't asked me a question, and everything you've said is circumstantial.'

'Sounds like you know the law.'

'I know a fed or two.' Lyneham looked from one agent to the other.

Sam refrained from exchanging a glance with Kensi. There was still nothing that confirmed Lyneham knew Callen was a federal agent. He decided to let the comment go for the moment and made a mental note to be cautious with his words.

'Why did you decide domestic terrorism was the way forward?' Sam asked.

'I didn't.'

'Why did you target the VA hospital, banks, realtors and child services?'

'I didn't.'

'Where did you source the military grade weapons we found stashed in the barn?'

'I didn't. That has nothing to do with me.'

'Sure it does,' Sam said. 'We know this was your idea, trying to right something you thought was wrong, that there's no support for those injured in service, physically or PTSD.'

'So you think there's nothing wrong with this country? That returning vets are treated right? Or do you think it's fine to just swept them into the streets like garbage?'

'It doesn't matter what I think, but you clearly believe that. So tell me, why did you think violence was the answer?'

'I didn't.'

'We know you're one of three people running this outfit.'

'Three?'

'You, DuValle and Ariel.'

'Ah,' Josh nodded. A smile pulled briefly at the corner of his mouth. 'You have it wrong. DuValle's the one you want. He's a violent and volatile man.'

'We found DuValle's body in a locked room in one of the barns. Someone had slashed his throat,' Kensi said.

Lyneham rubbed his eyes and the side of his head. 'I think I took a knock when you guys shot me with a Taser.' These agents were making it too easy for him. DuValle was the fall guy, and he was dead. He was going to walk away from this without any charges. 'One of the women found his body and we were trying to work out what happened and what it meant for us. I mean someone at the ranch is a murder'

'We, us?' Kensi questioned.

'Yeah, Raider, Ariel, Stone, Rob, Billy and me.'

'And what did DuValle's death mean to you?'

'That we were free. He controlled us. He bought militia men with their weapons and terrorised us. All I ever wanted was to peacefully protest. But none of us wanted him dead. I mean, I didn't think any of us were capable of committing murder.'

'You surrounded yourself with former marines, black ops men, computer whizz kids - all have the skill and talent to pull off not only terrorist activities, and most of them are more than capable of committing murder.'

'I'm with people who were down on their luck. Men and women who this country had turned its back on, same as all the other people who live on the ranch. I welcome like-minded people, but not those with violent intentions. I'm also surrounded by families made homeless by the banks, the children who've been failed by the welfare system, the courts who imprison people who have no choice but to turn to crime just to survive. We wanted to grab people's attention, to get focus that this country is so far from the America dream, that if you're not rich and privileged, you're treated like shit, from the top down.'

Sam clapped his hands slowly. 'Well, isn't that just a nice little speech. I think you killed DuValle to free yourself and your people of his tyrannical rule.'

'Once again, no. It wasn't me.'

'Do you recognise this man?' Sam placed a photo of Frederick Patten in front of Lyneham.

'No.'

'Take another look.'

Lyneham reluctantly glanced at the picture in front of him and weighed up his options. Lies based on an element of truth were always the easiest to keep straight. He paused and concentrated on the photo, squinting slightly to give the impression of recalling a distant memory. 'No. Maybe. He looks a bit like this guy I served with but that was years ago.'

'Ten out of ten,' Kensi said with a straight face. 'Frederick Patten. You, DuValle and Patten were in the same unit. He now works at an outreach centre for homeless vets where he identifies potential men and women for DuValle. DuValle assessed them and if he they fit the profile, he transported them to you at the ranch. You have the final say about whether they stay or are cut loose.'

'That is,' Sam added, 'after Thomason Hawker runs a thorough background check to make sure they are who they say they are, and they do actually have the skills which fits your needs. We've arrested everyone on your ranch. Y'know, people talk when they're scared of injustice and of jail time. And we've got our best technical operators trawling through every bit of data in those servers we found, as well as the laptops and your surveillance set up. Even if you don't confess, we'll have enough evidence and eyewitness statements to put you away for the rest of your life.'

Lyneham closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, slowly releasing his breath as he considered his options. He half wondered why the feds had even bothered to interview him if they already had what they needed, so some of it must be lies or them leaping to conclusions. He knew it was only a matter of time before the source of the weapons was discovered. The servers and surveillance equipment would implicate Thomason and DuValle more than anyone else, so he considered himself safe from that side of things. The recordings of Rob Gladstone and DuValle would also move the focus away from him as a suspect in DuValle's death. He could still proclaim his innocence. After all there were others in the leadership group who were just as culpable, if not more. Some negotiating was definitely in order.

'I wanna make a deal.' Lyneham said, raising his head and staring directly at Sam. 'None of this was me, but I can give you the details of who did, the name of an undercover agent gone rogue, and I can tell you who murdered DuValle.'

Sam shared a look with Kensi. 'Go ahead.' He replied. 'Start talking.'

Hetty and Nate waited patiently for Ariel to talk. The three had sat in silence for over thirty minutes, with the exception of the standard introductions made by Nate. The silence may not have been a record for an interrogation, but it was definitely impressive for a woman they perceived to be a civilian. Nate had Ariel's file open in front of him. The team had gone from knowing only her first name to understanding her full personal and professional history in a matter of hours. Ariel Du Bouchard was born in Johannesburg, South Africa and moved to Seattle with her parents when she was just three. She experienced a normal childhood, excelling in track whilst being a quiet and average student academically. There were no recorded brushes with the law either as a juvenile or an adult. Ariel graduated from San Francisco State University having studied Earth Sciences, and had remained in California, travelling south to Oceanside where she worked for a local environment agency. She'd been steadily progressing through the company until her performance dropped and she abruptly quit, disappearing from all walks of life. Her parents had filed a missing persons report but there had been no trace of her until now. Information from Callen suggested Ariel had an enduring acquaintance with DuValle, and there was a strong possibility their paths had crossed at Oceanside. Timelines confirmed that DuValle's shore leave coincided with Ariel's time working in the area and Nate feared she may have been attacked and raped by him, suffering a breakdown which resulted in her going to ground. She clearly feared the man – unless she had put on an Oscar winning performance which also included DuValle, a thought which Nate parked for the moment – yet also exerted a powerful hold over him with some form of blackmail material on child abuse.

On the table in front of Ariel were photos of Lyneham, DuValle, Raider, Stone, Hawker and Patten. For good measure, a photo of Callen's alias had been included to the far right, outside of Ariel's direct line of sight. Every so often, she would glance down at the images, casting her eyes over all of them and lingering on none. Nate observed her closely, noticing an increasing frequency of involuntary movements, twitching of fingers, a slight fidgeting with her position on the hard wooden chair. These were all signs she would soon talk. Just a little more patience was needed...The silence was broken with the buzzing sound of Hetty's cell phone vibrating. Nate looked over as Hetty turned the face of the cell towards him. It was from Ops, and simply read: "Lyneham is talking". The pair subtly nodded, and a smile pulled at Nate's lips. It didn't really matter what Lyneham was talking about or even what the message was; it was another way to unsettle Ariel.

'He's talking,' Nate said, staring across the table. He deliberately refrained from using Lyneham's name to keep Ariel guessing.

Ariel's head shot up as she looked at Nate, narrowing her eyes.

'And very keen to shift the blame,' Hetty added.

Ariel switched her attention to Hetty who slowly pushed back her chair and stood up.

'You just stay here. We'll be back a little later. There's a more...communicative...interrogation which is a little more interesting than this.'

'Who's talking?' Ariel asked, causing Hetty to turn back.

'Three of them so far,' she replied, embellishing the truth.

'And it's making for a very interesting narrative,' Nate added, sweeping up the photos and closing his folder.

Hetty paused, her hand poised to open the door.

'Sit down,' Ariel tilted her head high in a gesture of defiance. 'I'll tell you my story.'

Hetty nodded her head and returned to her chair. Nate re-opened the file he held and placed it on the table and re-organising the photos slowly and deliberately in front of Ariel.

'Start talking.'

Nell and Eric were at their workstations, the former tapping away and trawling through footage recovered from the scene. The servers on the compound had been partially wiped and Eric was attempting to gain access to the secure cloud storage Thomason Hawker had used. Hawker was one of the first to be interviewed and he had proven to be surprisingly resilient. FBI led the initial questioning and Eric listened in, prompting the officers to ask specific questions about the technology which had been found. It was immediately apparent that although Hawker may have been the most vulnerable of the suspects, he was supremely confident when it came to his comfort zone of computers and data. At one point Nell had suggested the interview was paused and he be transferred to the boatshed and given the full 'NCIS' treatment. FBI toughened their interrogation technique and ten minutes later Hawker was almost broken. The one piece of crucial information Eric required was not forthcoming, and that was how to access the remote servers. There was a sense that Hawker was holding back to save his own skin, should that be required. Not that he knew it, but so far the main players were not interested in the resident geek. They were more interested in laying the blame at someone else's door.

Callen and Deeks were seated in the ops center watching the interrogations on the large screen which was split between Lyneham and Ariel. Their headphones enabled them to switch between the audio from each room, the microphones meant they could feed information to the agents as and when required. The system was working well, and they commented and pointed out factual errors and contradictions they shared with their counterparts. Lyneham's offer to reveal a rogue undercover agent, to name DuValle's killer and say who really ran the show caused both Callen and Deeks to jolt in their chairs.

Callen shook his head. 'He's lying...'

Deeks looked at Callen. He was shaking his head almost imperceptibly and tightly gripping the arms of his chair.

'Callen, there's no way he made you,' Deeks reassured him.

'I don't know. It doesn't sound like he's just throwing a line out and with all that surveillance…' Callen's voice tailed off.

Eric swivelled in his chair to face the two agents. 'Guys, I reckon in about five minutes I'll have accessed the servers. If Lyneham and Ariel accuse you of anything, we'll be able to prove them wrong.'

'Good,' Callen replied, not breaking contact with the screen in front of him. 'You got two minutes.'

'OK,' Eric swung back to face his monitor and shared a tight grin with Nell.

'C'mon,' Callen muttered, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair as he waited for Lyneham to start talking. His gut instinct was that Lyneham would not accuse him of being the undercover agent, but if not him then who? His mind drifted back to earlier conversations. 'Raider,' he whispered.

Deeks glanced at his partner and gave up a silent prayer there would be no more dramas. He'd certainly suffered physically towards the end of their mission and mentally, Deeks was sure Callen was almost at breaking point. He himself felt as though his role was that of a spare peg, there to lend Callen's alias some credence, to be his foil and sometimes his punch bag, verbally and literally. He had been frustrated at times, pissed too with some of Callen's behaviour but familiar enough with his personality to understand he'd been only playing a necessary role. Deeks just was grateful they got along well in real life. He caught Callen whispering Raider's name and thought back to the times he'd spent in Raider's company. He still thought there was something hinky about the man, and Deeks agreed with Callen. 'Raider,' he mouthed in silent agreement.