Proving Ground
Chapter 18
…
Believing you have reached the end of your life changes your perception. Deeks thought he knew that, but the clarity he felt was mind altering, especially when you are waiting for a bullet to enter your brain. He became quite still, savoring every second he had left. Sound came only from his own heart throbbing slowly beneath his ears. He even noticed the air around him. It was warm, but also humid, which was rare. It almost felt claustrophobic, but maybe that was because he had broken out in a cold sweat. He felt a tiny bead track down the side of his face. The smell of exotic spices hung in the air, wafting off the man pressing the muzzle of a gun into his brain stem. He tried to anticipate when Sadik would fire. Would he hear the pull on the trigger? Would he feel any pain or would his life full of memories just cease to exist? Memories were the painful things. Thoughts of Kensi bringing only regret for the missed joy his death would cause. Had this op been damned from the beginning? Had he known all along that this would be how it ended? Had his death at this moment in time been in the cards all along? Would his lifelong search for happiness finally be foiled by a psychopath?
He could have refused to play the game. Why had he felt obligated to protect a girl he had just met a short time ago? Why hadn't he simply walked away? Maybe there were no answers to all the questions that roiled around in his brain.
Make peace. It's what everybody says you should do at the end. But who with? God usually. Certainly not the bastard with the gun. Not with the reasons he was here or with the woman who had fucked with his life. Anger was now becoming his primary emotion, but there was an underlying sense of sadness as well. Fuck it. Why not fight? Why sit meekly by and wait for the sonofabitch to end his life, a life he'd been fighting for since he was eleven.
Before he could act on that thought, Sadik's hand wrapped around the wound in his arm, his vise-like grip sending debilitating shards of pain through his chest and down his arm. He was shocked by its intensity, and his mind suddenly went blank as he fought the urge to scream. He stumbled to his feet as the man's grip tightened, but the pain weakened him and he was finding it difficult to function. He heard Sadik say something in Turkish just before he brought the barrel of his weapon down hard across his cheekbone. The blow stunned him and he staggered forward as Sadik shoved him out onto the withered grass in front the mausoleum.
"I told Berat not to trust you," Sadik said, his spittle spraying across the side of his face.
He offered no response as he tried to stay on his feet. He felt another man take his right arm and hold him up as they hustled him across the road toward the chapel. He looked to see if there were any agents in the vicinity, but he couldn't make out anyone in the darkness. All he heard was gunfire and shouting as they took Yavuz into custody.
"You deserve to suffer for your betrayal," Sadik growled breathlessly, sounding slightly unhinged. "And I will be your punisher."
"Fuck you," he whispered.
The pain in his arm became blinding as the man tightened his grip, but he struggled against the two men, not wanting to make it too easy for them to control him. He tried to wrench his arm free from the new guy's hold, but it only earned him another pistol-whipping from Sadik. He almost went down, but the new guy was strong and kept him on his feet. He was barely aware of his surroundings until he heard the screech of a rusted metal door and looked up to see that they were behind the chapel. They dragged him inside and were enveloped in blackness. Deeks felt cobwebs brush across his face as he was dragged down a sloping concrete passageway. When the dim glow of age-old industrial lights suddenly illuminated their way, he felt chilled, knowing no one would find him down here. Any small hope he had faded away.
When they finally dropped him on the floor, he welcomed the relief and looked around. The wall across from him was lined with several small, rusted iron doors with a temperature gauge on the front of each one. It looked like an old morgue or something out of an old Frankenstein movie, spiderwebs and all. When he realized what he was looking at his mouth went dry. They were ovens.
"This is the old crematorium," Sadik confirmed. "Deniz has worked here for many years. When you told us where you would bring Emiri, I called him. He told me about this place and these old cremation ovens."
"Hope they're too old to work," Deeks said with a grin.
"There are other ways to use them, Max," Sadik replied.
"They'll hunt you down you know," Deeks said, breathing hard as he pushed himself up to lean his shoulders against the wall. "You killed a lot of agents. They won't let that go."
"Then one more agent will not matter," he replied.
"You mean me? Like I told you, Ali…I'm not an agent, and they don't give a shit about me," Deeks said, playing his part to the end.
"You are a good liar, Max," Sadik said, looming over him in the anemic light. "I think Berat believed you until tonight. He was a fool."
"He loves his daughter," he replied.
"He loved his wife too," he spit out. "She was my sister, but she was a whore."
"But you didn't tell him that," Deeks said. "You made a little girl keep a terrible secret, and it almost got her killed."
The kick was fierce and took his breath away, leaving him face down on the dusty floor. His arms were pulled behind him and tied tightly at the wrist and elbows, leaving his ribs exposed.
"Now you will answer my questions," Sadik whispered, as Deniz lifted him to his feet.
They dragged him deeper into the long room and shoved him face down onto an ancient looking cast iron table. He fought briefly, but Sadik gouged his fingers into the wound in his arm again and this time he couldn't hold back a low scream.
"This was where they prepared the bodies," Sadik said as Deeks tried to catch his breath.
"You'd make a good mortician in a horror movie," Deeks said. "Got the right look going with that single eyebrow and all. Gives you kind of a ghoulish look."
"The old equipment is still here," Sadik said ignoring his taunt.
When Deeks heard the rattle of instruments on metal behind him, he fought to get up off the table, but Sadik simply laughed and brought the butt of his pistol down on his wounded arm. The pain was white hot and left him with tears in his eyes and no energy to resist. Sadik carefully place the gun down just above his head and began to unwrap the bandage around his arm. Deeks panicked when he felt the other man remove his shoes and socks, and kicked him in the face. The man grunted and grabbed his left foot, twisting it sharply. He screamed when his ankle broke, his body flushing with sweat. The man then took his time, spreading his legs and tying his ankles to the table.
"Come on, man. Don't do this," Deeks pleaded, embarrassed he was begging.
Sadik ignored him and began to wrap the gauze of the bandage around his neck, pulling it tight and tying each end to the metal railing around the edge of the table. When he finished, Deeks couldn't move his head and his heart raced as Deniz placed a tray of old scalpels on a table next to Sadik. The sick bastard picked up one and then put it back and picked up another one, examining it in the dim light. Then he smiled and picked up an old pair of scissors and began cutting away his shirt. As Sadik slowly removed the tee shirt from his body the more vulnerable he felt, and began to quiver in anticipation for what was to come. He had endured torture once, but he wasn't sure he would live through it this time.
"Is Benedetto a Federal agent too?" Sadik asked in a low, almost gentle voice.
"No."
Sadik sliced open the stitches in his arm, opening the wound with the point of the scalpel, and Deeks began panting to mitigate the pain. He was asked again, and again he lied, but being stubborn cost him. Sadik shoved the blade deep into the wound and his guttural scream ended in a curse.
"We aren't Feds, you stupid sonofabitch," He panted out wearily, unwilling to give him what he wanted.
"I don't believe you," the man whispered. "But it doesn't really matter now. I will find him and kill him too."
He groaned as Sadik slowly pulled the scalpel out and wiped the blood off with his fingers. When he felt the sadistic bastard's hand ghost over his arm and down to his tied wrists, Deeks held his breath. "What are you doing?"
Sadik sliced open his wrist very slowly and shivering chills racked his body as warm blood spilled down over his back.
"I know you are both Federal agents," Sadik said softly. "Why do you refuse to tell me the truth?"
"What…what difference…does it make?" Deeks mumbled, trying to manage the pain.
Sadik clutched a handful of his hair and leaned closed to his face. "You ruined everything. I would have returned to Istanbul a hero."
"You'd have been second fiddle, asshole," Deeks grunted out, grinning up at the man. "Yavuz would have gotten all the credit. You know that, right?"
The scalpel sliced deep between his ribs and he passed out. He was slapped awake and blew out his breath, his body shivering uncontrollably. Rapidly weakening from the blood loss, he let his thoughts stray to Kensi, like he had done when Sidorov had him. Tears watered his eyes as he thought about what might have been. An amazing life together. Kids. All the awesome things he had longed for with a woman who had changed his expectations of life itself. She had come for him once, only this time he wasn't sure his body would ever be found, but he knew she would never stop looking.
"Where will they take Emiri?" Sadik asked.
"How should I know? I'm not a fucking Fed, no matter what you believe," he said weakly.
"Then why did you betray us?" He asked, moving down the side of the table toward his feet. "Why help the Feds use Emiri to capture Berat?"
"They threatened to send Sage to prison, man," he replied as he felt the man's hand come to rest on his broken ankle. "She's my life, you fuck."
Sadik's hand felt warm on his ankle and he waited for the pain. The sonofabitch took his time, and the pain was excruciating, causing bright spots of light to flash behind his eyes until he finally lost consciousness. He woke to Sadik's voice telling him that he would find Sage, calmly describing everything he would do to her. Tears ran from his eyes, but he could no longer form any words to protest. He could only hope the man would fail or that the team would have her back, because he knew he would never make it out of this room. When his other wrist was slashed open he barely reacted, his mind swimming in a gray fog. He briefly opened his eyes when the table began moving back toward the ovens and then he knew where he would die. His anger provided no energy to fight when they cut him free of the table, succumbing to an overwhelming feeling of lassitude as they lifted him. He gagged on the smell of ash as they slid him inside the narrow oven, sucking in the musty air, and suddenly paralyzed by fear. The last of his strength deserted him as the door slammed shut, leaving him alone in the darkness of his own tomb. He screamed, but no one heard.
…
"Callen?" He has to be there," Eric said, sounding agitated. "Overwatch places him there."
"Did Nell find the original plans?" Sam asked.
"She's sending them now," Eric said. "Hold on."
Nell came on the line and they all gathered in front of the pulpit. "When the chapel was built, there was a crematorium constructed underneath. The ceiling and the walls are incredibly thick. You wouldn't be able to hear anyone down there. It hasn't been used in over eighty years, but its entrance is in the back."
"I thought you checked the back?" Sam asked McFadden.
"We never got to the back. We saw the side door and came in," he replied. "Shit."
McFadden turned and ran out the side door, followed closely by Kensi and Sam. All of them reached the back corner of the chapel just as they heard the screech of metal and hurried words spoken in Turkish. They all pulled their weapons, but Callen stepped in front of them all, holding them back until the two men walked out into the open.
"Federal Agents," Callen yelled, with McFadden shouting for them to get on their knees.
Neither one obeyed. The older man in coveralls immediately took off running, but the other quickly ducked behind a headstone and fired on them. McFadden dropped the runner, while everyone else spread out and opened up on the shooter. When they heard him scream and the firing stopped, Callen slowly approached from one side while Sam walked straight for him. Kensi moved quickly up the back steps to cover them. The man was clawing for his dropped pistol, but McFadden kicked it out of reach. Teague beamed a flashlight down on the wounded man where he lay on his back cussing. His face was scarred and bloody from a bullet that had creased his cheek and taken out his right eye. His kneecap was shattered, and he was bleeding heavily from several wounds in his abdomen.
"It's Sadik," Teague said as Sam knelt down beside the man.
"You came for…Max Gentry…yes?" Sadik asked, slowly choking out the words.
"Where is he?"
"I was right…he was a Federal agent," he said with a bloody smile.
"No. You're wrong," Sam said. "He wasn't an agent."
"Liar!" The man roared. "You all lie. He lied to us…and I killed him for it."
He suddenly pushed himself away from Sam, pulling a knife and swiping it at him. Kensi fired once, hitting him in the head.
"Do you think Deeks is really dead?" McFadden asked softly.
"He had no reason to lie," Teague said quietly, turning to Callen and Sam. "I'm so sorry it had to end this way. He was a good man."
"I don't care what he said. I'm finding Deeks," Kensi said sharply, quickly coming down the stairs to shine a flashlight over the back of the chapel.
"McFadden? You once told me that you never count someone out until you find evidence that proves otherwise," Callen said as he placed his hand on the edge of the rusty door. "We're going with that. You coming?"
Callen tucked his weapon behind his back and followed Kensi and Sam past the heavy iron door. As they moved inside the dimly lit passage, Kensi rushed ahead calling out Deeks' name. When they reached the end they turned a corner and found themselves in an empty space lit only by two hanging lamps. Even in the semi darkness they could see footprints in the dust.
"Deeks!" Kensi's shout was loud, but there was no response.
Sam flashed a light into the far end, illuminating a cast iron table. "There's blood on it, G."
The two men walked slowly back until they stood beside it, and Callen reached down and picked up one of Deeks' shoes. Sam sighed wearily as he stared at the pool of dark blood in the middle of the table, finally looking up at his partner with a shimmer of tears in his eyes.
"We're too late," he said.
"No!" Kensi insisted. "Don't you say that."
She began to shine her flashlight over the floor and Sam and Callen followed suit.
"They rolled that table out here at one point," Kensi said.
Sam knelt down and touched his finger to a dark spot in the dust on the floor.
"Blood."
All three flashlight beams crawled up the wall until they merged on the door of the oven above it.
"Oh my God," Kensi said softly, her face a mask of horror.
"Fuck no," McFadden said as Sam yanked hard on the oven's door.
The smell of blood and sweat hit them and Callen swore as he pulled on the metal stretcher that held Deeks' body.
"Get that table over here," Sam ordered McFadden. "Kensi shine your light in here."
McFadden rolled the bloody table underneath and steadied it as Sam and Callen eased Deeks onto it. Kensi gasped and cried out when she saw him. One foot was badly swollen and a deep purple bruise circled his ankle. When they had him all the way out they could see that his back and arms were covered in blood.
"That fucking bastard," McFadden whispered as Callen cut him free and Sam felt for a pulse.
"He's not breathing," Sam said, and shot a look at Callen. "Help me turn him over."
Sam paused to look down at Deeks as he lay on his back, his face flushed and streaked with sweat and the track of tears. He hurriedly began CPR as Callen pulled off his shirt and ripped it up. He hurried to wad up a piece to press against the deep cut on Deeks' wrist to stem some of the bleeding. Kensi's eyes were wild as she watched them work, hardly taking a breath until Sam looked up in relief.
"I got a pulse," Sam said. "It's weak, but he's alive. Kensi? You hear me? He's alive."
She reached out to touch him, unaware she was crying.
"Let's get him out of here," Callen said as McFadden rushed out yelling that he'd call an ambulance.
No one said anything as they rolled him up the passageway and out into the cooling air of the night. When they got outside, Teague and the rest of his team were waiting. Callen yelled for some light and Keyes and Fry quickly pulled flashlights and held them over Deeks, cursing softly when they saw the condition he was in.
"I've got a helo inbound," Teague said softly. "How bad?"
"We found him in one of the ovens. That bastard left him there to bleed out," Callen said, his voice sad and angry.
"Kensi?" Sam called, handing her a strip of Callen's shirt. "Put some pressure on this wound."
She moved as if in a trance, her eyes still wide with fear. Sam squeezed her shoulder and pulled her to Deeks' side. She finally began looking more focused as she wrapped the cloth as tightly as she could around his wrist.
"Sam? He's got a stab wound in his side," Callen said. "Anybody got a med kit?"
McFadden grabbed one of the tactical agents and practically ripped a backpack off his shoulder, yanking the flap open as he rushed it back. When Sam stuffed a wad of gauze into the deep wound in his side, Deeks screamed, jerking up from the table with wild eyes.
"We got you," Sam said, gently pushing him back down. "Just take it easy."
Deeks slowly blinked at him and groaned. There was no recognition in his eyes, and when his body went limp, Kensi panicked, pushing past Sam to get closer to him. She was crying as she took his face in her hands, brushing the hair away from his eyes, and kissing him softly.
"Deeks? I'm here, baby. I'm here," she whispered, but when there was no response, she looked to Sam and Callen as if they could do something.
"I'm so sorry, Kensi," McFadden said. "I should have had his back."
"He shouldn't have even been here," she said, her eyes flashing dangerously as she looked over at him.
"It was his choice, Agent Blye," Teague said.
"Was it?" Callen said. "He was escorted from the hospital under guard. Doesn't sound like much of a choice to me."
"He agreed this was the best option," Teague argued. "I thought Sam convinced him of that."
"Yeah? Well I was wrong," Sam said, glaring at him as the beat of helicopter blades filled the air.
…
Hetty watched them all surreptitiously, wanting to assess each one's reaction to what had happened to Mr. Deeks. She had taken control of her own anger as she always had, this time taking a little longer after talking with Assistant Director Mosley. The woman actually sounded somewhat regretful, but asked that she be kept posted since she would be unable to check on him personally. Hetty had come to the hospital along with Eric and Nell, both unusually quiet on the trip down. She had shared the details provided by Mr. Callen, and saw the pain it caused them both. Now she saw that same pain playing across the features of each person waiting for word in the sterile atmosphere of the hospital waiting room.
Agent Teague had left before she'd arrived, called back in by Mosley. However, the rest of her so-called elite team remained, included the translator Perez, who had hobbled in on crutches. She found their presence oddly comforting, and wondered what Mr. Deeks would make of it once he was out of surgery and awake. She knew none of them well, except for what she'd read in their files.
Ellis McFadden was the one she was drawn to, his experience on his last tour in Afghanistan revealing why he felt a growing attachment to Deeks. He had lost a close friend out there, a young man with a passing resemblance to Deeks. He had been a native Californian with an easy smile according to the photos in his file. The two soldiers had been with a unit doing reconnaissance when they were cut off while on patrol. His buddy had been severely wounded, and McFadden decided to go for help, despite being wounded himself. Ignoring the danger, he'd managed to evade the Taliban fighters that surrounding them. When he returned with his unit, they found that his friend had been discovered and killed, his face unrecognizable. McFadden had been allowed to return home with the young man's body, and had eventually been pulled into service at the DOJ by a family friend. That experience was now weighing in on his reaction to what had happened to Deeks. It had hit close to home and she could only hope that the other members of his team would recognize his pain and help him deal with the aftermath.
When she turned to her own team she found it disturbing to see them at odds, each one keeping to themselves instead of supporting one another. Kensi was full of anger with no way to vent it, except at Sam, who bore his pain stoically for what he saw as his responsibility for what had happened. Callen just looked pissed, trying his damnedest to remain aloof from it all, but failing badly this time. Nell and Eric were the only ones comforting each other, although when Nell had tried to speak with Kensi she'd been rebuffed. When Callen spotted her watching them he immediately moved toward her with that determined look he got when he wanted answers. Hetty thought it was probably best that Mosley had decided to sit this one out.
"Did you talk to her?" He asked, not bothering to mask his anger. "Is she even going to show up to see how he is?"
"She asked me to keep her posted," Hetty replied, feeling her own anger rise.
"Of course she did. She set him up for this, Hetty, without any regard for his safety," Callen stormed. "We should have been there."
"Yes you should have, Mr. Callen," Hetty responded. "But this isn't the first time one of you has been in harms way on an op. It's part of the job, and you can't blame the Assistant Director for that."
"But I can blame her for keeping us out of this for no apparent reason," he said. "Other than to assert control."
"I believe you have a point there, Mr. Callen," Hetty replied. "Now…how is everyone holding up?"
"Kensi blames Sam and Sam blames himself," Callen said softly.
"And you?"
"If we hadn't gotten there when we did, Deeks would have bled out," he replied. "No one even bothered to look for him after they took Yavuz. He was on his own out there, Hetty, and it almost cost him his life. So, as thankful as I am that we got there in time, I can't help but feel guilty for what he went through."
"But you persisted, Mr. Callen. You all did," she said. "And Mr. Deeks is alive because of that persistence."
Callen nodded his agreement, but didn't look convinced enough for the haunted look to leave his face.
"He was buried alive, Hetty…bleeding out in his own tomb," he said softly. "I can't even imagine how he must have felt. I hope Mosley knows what Sadik did to him. And I hope it shakes her as much as it's shaken me…shaken all of us."
He walked back toward the others, finally slumping down in one of the plastic chairs, staring moodily at the floor. She had watched him closely after what Sidorov had done to Sam and Deeks. He had tried to hide his guilt then, but not now. She had seen the anger that came from that earlier guilt, and it had burned brightly. Now she wondered how he'd express his anger this time. He had clashed with Mosley from the beginning, and had done his best to protect Deeks' position on the team. Now with what had happened and Deeks' resignation looming, she worried that Callen might do something foolish and end his own career in the process. She was afraid the fallout would seriously jeopardize her whole team, which may have been Mosley's intention from the beginning. She had to find a way to head that off, or they would all be looking for new jobs and she would have to sail off into the sunset. And she wasn't ready for that just yet.
Her reflective mood faded when she saw a surgeon talking quietly with Kensi, and she headed over to hear his report, arriving to catch the tail end of it.
"His blood loss was significant, and we're working to get his fever down," the doctor said. "But his punctured lung is still our main concern. Luckily you got him here in time. He's being taken to ICU. When he's settled, I'll have someone come get you."
"But he's going to be all right?" Kensi asked. "Please tell me he is."
"I'm afraid he's not out of the woods yet," the doctor said kindly. "We will do our best for him, but he's still got some fighting to do."
When the surgeon walked away, Nell took Kensi's arm and walked her over to a seat in the corner, quietly talking to her. Even with the small bit of information she'd heard, Hetty knew just how close they'd come to losing him, and that the possibility still existed. If he did survive, the shock of what he'd suffer might compromise his recovery. She had hoped to entice him to rescind his resignation, but after this that possibility seemed rather remote. But she was never one to give up hope on either score. First they needed to help him recover and overcome any psychological effects. This time she intended to be more understanding. She'd come to realize what an important member of her team he'd become, and she wouldn't give up on him without a fight. Mosley owed him for what he'd done, and she would be pointing that out to her as often as she could.
…
A scream brought him awake. It was his own. Fear followed. It was the darkness that scared him. He was dying alone in the dark. Memories flitted through the fogginess of his mind. Pain. Blood. Sadik. Sam. Kensi. Nothing made sense except the constant beat of his heart. A voice told him to open his eyes, but if he did there would be no light. Coffins are dark places. Ovens burn you, but this one was cold. There was no air. No light. No hope.
"Deeks."
He was dreaming of her. It was the only explanation. Hallucinating. That was what he was doing. Does that happen when you're dying? Too many questions. No time.
"I'm here, baby."
"You can't be," he heard himself say.
"Open your eyes, Deeks," Kensi said.
She was crying in this dream. It was his fault. He should have fought harder. Now he was lost. Now she was just a hallucination, a memory from a life he never got to finish living.
"Please, Deeks."
"Don't cry," he whispered and dared to open his eyes.
Everything was blurry. She was blurry. But it wasn't dark.
"Hey," Kensi said softly, her hand warm against his cheek.
"Am I alive?"
"Yes, baby. You're alive and in the hospital," she replied.
"You found me? How?"
"The overwatch spray."
He'd forgotten about that, but he couldn't forget the man who almost killed him.
"Sadik?"
"Dead."
He couldn't stop the tears. Then he couldn't breathe. A loud beeping rattled him and he heard Kensi yelling for help. Was this real, or was he dreaming again? Hands were on him. Hands he didn't know, so he struggled. He had to fight this time. He had to didn't he?
"Deeks, stop fighting. They're trying to help you."
It was Sam's voice and he felt a sudden surge of anger.
"Get out of my dream," he heard himself say, afraid to open his eyes again.
"This isn't a dream, baby," Kensi said. "You're safe. These people are doctors. They're not going to hurt you."
"Okay,' he whispered, realizing he was able to breathe better now. "Thanks. Sorry."
He heard people talking, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He looked around the room. It was bright and full of light. It made him smile. He was suddenly euphoric. He was alive, dammit. He wanted to get up and do things. He wanted to surf. Run on the beach. Call his mom. Have a latte. Make frittatas. Kiss Kensi. Tell her he loved her. Make love to her. Make babies. Live an awesome life.
"I'm alive," he said, smiling softly.
"I guess you really are a detective," Callen said.
"Yeah. For now," he said. "Is it over? Can I go home?"
"It's over, but I don't think their going to let you go home for a while," he replied. "Sadik punctured your lung, among other things you'd probably like to forget."
Forget? He could try.
"Deeks? You survived," Callen said. "Just think about your future, not the past."
"Very philosophical of you, Professor Callen."
"I've been there, Deeks," he replied. "Just keep moving forward. Take your time. Let things get back to normal."
"I don't think I know what that is anymore," he said.
"Right now, maybe not," Callen admitted. "But you have Kensi, and she's a damn good place to start."
"Yeah. She is."
…
…
