Kensi was starting to worry. Well, there had been plenty of moments of worry over the last two months, but it was really starting to crystalize into genuine concern, both for the mission and her safety.

They left the estate a week ago traveling by SUV and van to another location, she assumed still in Mexico. They had taken to injecting her with drugs when they traveled so she couldn't identify their route or keep track of how long or in what direction they were going. She argued with them. She was initiated, and no other cartel member was being doubted. She lost the battle when they jabbed a syringe into her arm.

Antonio was a different man. The farther he traveled away from the estate, the more he seemed more like the head of a dangerous cartel family and less like Tony. He'd become distant, dark. His charm was gone. Kensi couldn't tell if it was the weight of his new responsibilities, or if this was really just who Antonio was – without Elena and the kids close by to soften him if maybe he was really just a brutal, violent man. Maybe she'd misjudged him and let her guard down too much.

But he'd been her advocate at the estate. Her partner in this particular crime, and so maybe she'd believed they were in it together. Being out on the road with him and five of his hired guns reminded her she was very much on the outside looking in. And meeting up with Alawi increased the apprehension exponentially. Alawi was mad she was a she, and he and his six terrorist cell members were unhappy to have a woman play a critical part in their plan.

They were armed, she was not. They had tech, she'd been denied a phone and had yet to be given permission to send an email. She ate alone and was given her own quarters to stay in when business discussions were not taking place. They made her cover her head. The thirteen armed men regarded her more as a prisoner than a partner.

She was in her room alone when there was a knock on the door and Antonio entered without being asked. He had a small box, and handed it to her with a stern face. She opened it, finding a gold bracelet and gold chain with a diamond pendant. Her face wore her confusion when she looked up at Tony.

"When we met," he explained, "we had a misunderstanding. Two of your men were killed. Our transaction is coming to an end and the Cardenas family needs to make reparations."

Her confusion turned to frustration.

"You killed them. Men who worked for me. Impulsively shot them dead where they stood, and you're giving me jewelry to say you're sorry?"

"I sell drugs and you sell guns. People die in our lines of business every day. No one here has clean hands."

She changed the topic.

"I need to send an email to my team. I need to confirm the merchandise. I need to plan for the exchange. I need to see if switching out the RDX is possible. I need to run my business."

This was an argument they were having more and more often. It had become an annoyance to Antonio, but seeing her issue he relented.

"You can write an email in the morning and we'll send it when communication lines are up. We leave for the US in two days. We'll choose from your three locations for the exchange the morning it will take place."

Kensi shook her head and let her annoyance show clearly on her face.

"Transporting military grade explosives in LA is something you should really put some planning into. Routes, times, escorts. The more notice the better." Then she got up in his face. "Also, I'm a partner here, not a prisoner. You would do well to remember that."

"And there she is," Antonio goaded. "I hadn't seen The Phoenix in some time."

But Kensi was frozen because the phrase reminded her so much of Deeks she almost cried when she heard it. She felt like it was all coming apart just when she needed it to come together. And she missed Deeks. God, she missed him so much. She wished for an ounce of his confidence, a small piece of his strength. She gathered her thoughts and remembered the mission.

"It's time for business. It's all The Phoenix from here on out," she informed him.

He took the necklace and the bracelet and worked the clasps as he fixed them on her. The way he carefully gathered her hair and moved it to the side made her skin crawl. Then he nodded and left the room, and Kensi was actually happy to be alone.

()_()_()_()_()_()_()_()_()

The email was up on the left side of the big screen when Deeks, Sam and Callen got to Ops. Hetty and Granger were already there discussing it, and when the men arrived it seemed like their leadership had been discussing it for some time.

"Why didn't you call us when it came in?" Callen asked Nell.

"It came in at four in the morning," she responded, "and we are still trying to figure something out about it."

The men read it. They were interested in the op, but more interested in Kensi. The beginning was standard. She talked about the sale. Alawi tried to upgrade from RDX to Semtex. She told them with less than a week's notice it was unlikely they would have enough Semtex to fill the order. Then there was an accounting of all the weapons and explosives that were agreed on, and a bottom line confirmation of the price.

But the next section of the letter was strange. Rambling. Riddled with grammatical errors. A few typos. And about things that weren't in any of the protocols.

"That doesn't sound like Kensi," Sam observed, his eyes reread the words.

"That doesn't even sound like English," Deeks said. "Maybe she dictated it to someone?"

"Or maybe…" Eric said to himself, not realizing the team was hanging on his every word.

"Maybe what, Beal?" Granger inquired.

"No…. she didn't…," Eric continued, still in his own world.

"You think?" Nell questioned with a little doubt and a little awe in her voice, grabbing her tablet and tapping. She and Eric were on the same page.

"Will one of you tell us what the hell is going on?" Granger demanded.

"It's a cipher," Eric finally told them with a hint of wonder in his voice. "And it's crazy – she would've had to do manually without a translator key."

"That would account for typos and grammatical errors. The cipher was more important than the readable content," Nell elaborated.

"Well what does it say?" Callen asked.

"Working it," Nell told them in her voice that told everyone to leave her alone to work for a minute.

"Come on come on come on," Deeks whispered, desperate to see the message.

"Here we go," Nell announced, and words and phrases from the email on the left began highlighting and moving to text on the right. With a final touch to her tablet, the cipher was revealed and translated.

Unknown location. Drugged for transport. Unarmed. No tech. Thirteen Hostiles. Suspicious. Alawi has a man already in LA. Diamonds for payment. Get all three exchange sites ready. Leak is deSoto. Burned Callen Olivera Nelson and partner. Bad Feeling. Honor and Privilege.

It was like the air was sucked out of the room. All of their other communications with Kensi, albeit infrequent and brief, had been positive one - ones that had brought the team some amount of comfort. This one put a rock in their stomachs and a sense of foreboding in their minds. She wasn't sure she'd make it to them. This was a just-in-case goodbye.

Deeks stood behind the island in Ops. He gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles were white, leaning in and looking down at the floor while he gained his composure. He was angry. He was worried and on the edge of panicking and desperate to have Kensi back safe, and he was angry.

"So now we know she's being drugged while surrounded by thirteen armed men, still not having a weapon or any way to reach us independently, and her instincts are telling her there is reason to worry, but now we have no idea where she, and neither does she."

"That about sums it up," Callen said with unease thick in his voice.

"See, three weeks ago it was bad, and we knew where she was and we left her in, and now it's gone from bad to worse but we don't know where she is. So we didn't get her when we could have and now we can't."

Deeks finally looked up from the floor, seeing nothing in the eyes of the team around him that comforted him.

"Fantastic," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sam's strong hand found his shoulder.

"It sounds like we're in the home stretch. She thinks it will go down within the week. She'll be home soon." Sam's attempts at reassurance helped a little, but the anger still radiated off Deeks like a volcano.