Chapter Three: "In most cases being a good boss means hiring talented people and then getting out of their way." ― Tina Fey, "Bossypants"


Callen and Sam walked into the decommissioned power plant near Pasadena. Nearly a dozen staffers sat with headsets, laptops or large computer screens toiling away at work stations. Sam gave a small wave to Eric and Nell, sitting in their own corner of the work stations area. Eric gave Sam two thumbs-up while Nell just smiled.

In what was a main area with a conference room table, 170-inch Samsung television screen had CNN running soundlessly while 85-inch side screens throughout the facility offered BBC News, Al Jazeera, i24News and RT all on mute. Smaller conference tables and chairs sat in three glass walled offices just alongside the work stations with dark 42-inch monitors.

"You think someone told Deeks about this place?" Sam asked as he looked around.

"Things ended OK for him here."

"Not before things almost ended for him here, period."

"Hardly looks like the same place," Callen said.

"I would hope not," a woman in her mid-thirties walked up to Callen and Sam. "Commander Rehme moved all this equipment and had his team set it up in less than eight hours." Offering her hand, she introduced herself. "Kim Martinez. DEA in theory, Honos Project in practice. You must be Agents Callen and Hanna. Your analysts were here at six saying you two were on your way."

"Callen" he said, shaking her hand.

"Hanna," Sam told her shaking her hand. "When did the Commander go to work for the Honos Project?"

"Amanda, his daughter, got into Columbia's pre-med program. One of Genevieve's greatest recruiting tools is she's rich. Stupid rich. As long as the Commander is with Project Honos, the 55-grand a year tuition at Columbia is covered."

"That's some serious bank," Sam said.

"The Commander's late wife's family had money but you're talking a quarter of a million dollars just for college and some expenses and since Amanda wants to go to med school that's another $75K a year for that. And she's going to med school so Genevieve will pay for that too."

"Good for Amanda," Sam said, happy the frightened young girl they rescued turned out just fine.

"Great for her," Kim said. "She's a terrific kid and everyone loves her. The Commander said you're the team that found her and that makes you all made men as far the folks here."

"Who are the folks here?" Callen asked.

"There are about twenty of us who are full-time with the project. About half of them are here – some computer and biological weapons experts, a linguist, there's a forensic accountant here and one back in New York, a lawyer on call if we need a warrant."

"Or to get the Director bailed out of jail," Sam joked.

"I'm so sorry I missed that yesterday. You know the Director is upset if she says "dammit" and out of her mind if she says 'shit'. All those f-bombs!" Kim just started to laugh. "She sent a package for Damien, I can't wait to see what it is."

"Speaking of Scott, where is he?" Sam looked around but couldn't pick out Damien. "Wasn't thrilled with yesterday morning but boy did my daughter have a fun time in the hotel pool last night."

"He called in and said he's running an errand. Did you hear from your office?" Kim asked.

"We were told that Agent Blye and Detective Deeks are going to Santa Barbara this morning," Callen replied.

"Yeah, with Michael getting shot, I barely landed at Santa Barbara Airport before I was chasing down the helicopter pilot to take me back."

"Excuse me Kim," a young staffer interrupted. "The Director is on the line in cubicle one. She believes the NCIS Agents would like to join the call."

"Thanks Don," Kim said. Turning to Callen and Sam, she said "Gentleman, when the boss lady wants a word it is best not to keep her waiting."

Callen and Sam followed Kim to one of the glass enclosed cubicles. "Director," Kim said as she unmuted the conference call tablet. "I have Agents Callen and Hanna with me."

"Hi everyone," Genevieve was wearing a black cashmere cardigan sweater set and black pants.

"Ma'am," Sam said with a smile.

"Your security measures made reading up on this case difficult," Callen complained. "The inability to print any documents and to have to reauthorize what was sent to tablets and phones every hour was time consuming. All the files were gone this morning. You're making this hard, Director. "

"Intentionally so, Agent Callen. Your office still has a mole. I cannot and I will not endanger a positive outcome for this case, anyone involved in this assignment and any other operatives I have in the field because an unauthorized bad actor has access to my office and my staff through your office."

"Is that why everything was moved here?" Sam asked.

"Absolutely. I've seen the set-up OSP has and it is a fine one. We could have run this operation from your offices if Leon Vance could assure me that the office was 100% secure. He could not so I would not."

"No office is 100% secure," Callen pleaded NCIS's case.

"That's true, but your office is 100% compromised. I know it, the CIA knows it, the DEA knows it, ICE, FBI, ATF, I could go on and on with the alphabet soup. It is the reason your office wasn't brought into this immediately even though I had experience with several of your agents and analysts. But with our target now being aware of Damien and Michael, as well as Michael being out of the mix, undercover operatives of your caliber are required."

"Oh for God's sake," Kim sighed, throwing up her hands.

"Kim?" Genevieve asked.

"Michael just got here."

"He's in the hospital." Genevieve shook her head.

"No, I'm looking at him," Sam said. "Scott's pushing him in a wheelchair."

"I'm going to kill them both," Kim started for the door.

"Kim, bring them in here," Genevieve directed. "Then you can kill them."

"Yes ma'am."

"Are we going to have another swearing contest?" Sam asked.

"No, that was unfortunate yesterday," Genevieve admitted. "Commander Rehme was good enough to record it and send it to the General."

"General?" Callen whispered to Sam.

"My husband is retired General Keith Jefferson." Genevieve heard Callen. "He quoted it back to me several times last night during dinner in between humming Sam Cooke's "Chain Gang" and Elvis's "Jailhouse Rock". It was the perfect cap to my day."

"Give the General my regards," Sam said.

"I will and I know he'll be happy you are working with the team," Genevieve said with a smile. The smile disappeared as Kim opened the door and Damien pushed a wheelchair bound Michael Stonebridge into the room.

"When I called the hospital last night Michael," Genevieve started, "Dr. Aronson told me you'd be released the day after tomorrow at the earliest. While you're in a different time zone, I do not believe this is Dr. Aronson's day after tomorrow. It may not even be Dr. Aronson's day after tomorrow in Australia yet. And since your work wife picked you up at the hospital and not your real wife, I'm guessing Kim heard the same thing I did."

"Ma'am, I can explain."

"Are the words 'I signed myself out against medical advice' going to be a part of your explanation?" Kim asked. "'Cause that's not an explanation, that's just damn stupid."

"Well, now that you mentioned it," Damien said.

"Oh no, work wife," Kim cut him off. "You get to stay quiet."

Damien stayed quiet.

"Director, Kim," Michael said. "I can work from a computer here while I recuperate. There are cots in the back and if I feel tired, I'll rest."

"You're out of the field until the stitches come out," Genevieve ordered. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Michael agreed.

"Kim, if he goes into the field, stun gun him until he can't and then hit Scott once or twice for aiding and abetting."

"Do we really want me involved in their kinky sex life?" Damien joked.

"No," Kim and Michael said in unison.

"Kim, show Agents Callen and Hanna around. Either you and Damien or our friends from NCIS need to interview our injured meth cooker to see what he knew about Brandon Bryant's business. Michael, you leave that facility to do anything but go to the hotel at the end of the day, I'll have a marshal put you on a plane back here in heartbeat. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm leaving for Guantanamo this afternoon. I will be available on the sat-phone after 1PM ET. Be safe."

"Safe travels," Kim said cutting off the feed.

"You're married?" Callen asked.

"Right now we are but I'm rethinking my options," Kim said, shooting Michael a look. "If the two of us can have the room, I'd like a moment to speak to the possible ex-Mr. Martinez."

"Oh yeah, guys, lemme get you some coffee," Damien hustled Callen and Sam out of the room.

Walking down the hall with Damien, Sam said "I would never do that to you, G. If Michelle wants me in the hospital, I'm staying in the hospital."

Callen shook his head in disbelief. "You signed yourself out against medical advice with heart damage when Michelle was with Sidorov."

"That was different."

"You guys took down Sidorov?" Damien was impressed.

"With Michelle's help," a proud Sam said.

"She was a great agent," Damien brought them to a canteen area. There was two huge coffee urn – regular and decaf – an electric kettle, sugar packets, cases of bottled water, energy bars, fresh fruit and two large refrigerators.

"She still is. Just bringing up our kids." Sam took a bottled water.

"Good for her. She deserved a happy ending." Damien pour himself a cup of coffee, Callen did the same.

"You think those two are going for the happy ending?" Callen asked, pointing to an obviously agitated Kim listening to her husband.

"Yeah, she worries about him, he worries about her, he drops that British accent on her and everything's fine."

"The file didn't say that Stonebridge remarried," Sam noted.

"Everyone knows but they never bothered to file the official paperwork. Still in Kim's desk in New York."

"Fitzgerald doesn't look like she misses much," Callen said.

"She threw them a big party at her hoity-toity place on Long Island to celebrate their trip to City Hall."

"But?"

"But I don't know, ask them. I'm just work wife," Damien sat with his coffee at one of the two small tables in the canteen.

"So tell me this, work wife, how does a dishonorably discharged Delta Forces sergeant reappear 13-years later as an army captain?" Sam asked.

"I did good work for Section 20. When she who much be obeyed wanted Mikey and me for her Honos Project, I had some demands."

"And the woman who got Tommy "Guns" Rizzo to flip on Dan "The Man" La Duca and Vasily Ivanov to sell out is brother Stan just decided to hand you the keys to the kingdom." Sam was skeptical.

"Oh, no, she got them on the taskforce as a way to keep their asses out of jail," Kim said as she wheeled her husband into the room. Michael had a box on his lap. "They work for her, this one," pointing to Damien, "doesn't go to jail for faking his death and my beloved doesn't have an adjoining cell for lying to government officials."

"Well, there's that," Damien added.

"You faked your death?" Callen was stunned.

"There were people who need to think I was dead for a while."

"And then Damien decided he needed to start a fight in a Reno casino," Michael said.

"I remember you throwing a punch or two," Damien replied.

"Genevieve was good enough to post bail and plan out the next few years of our lives while doing the paperwork," Michael told Callen and Sam.

"Still doesn't explain how you're a captain," Sam said.

"When she started the Honos Project, Genevieve was given a number of exemptions from typical law enforcement rules. As a taskforce, she could use current military but she's limited to four total on the taskforce full-time and all had to be officers."

"I think they were afraid she'd start her own army," Damien half-joked.

"So she got these two a special hearing with a military tribunal," Kim said. "Brought in the top two JAG lawyers she knew and got them both captains rank with an agreement they're never getting promoted."

"If we save the world we might." Michael said.

Wanting to get back to their reason for being at the power plant, Callen said, "Speaking of saving the world, what's on the agenda for today?"

"If you two don't mind," Kim said, "I'm going to ask you to talk to one Joseph Goodman, the badly misnamed meth cooker whose product was bought and paid for by Brandon Bryant."

"We're on it. Anything else?" Sam asked.

Kim shook her head no. "Head back here. When we hear from your people in Santa Barbara, we'll figure what we have."

"This is for you, mate." Michael passed to box in his lap to Damien. "From the boss lady."

"Probably an apology for not getting right back to me yesterday."

"If she's sending anything to anyone, I believe it should be to Agent Hanna and his wife," Kim said.

Damien opened the box. He handed a letter addressed to Kim.

"Kim, please read this aloud to the staff. Thanks, Genevieve," Kim read to the men.

Damien held framed airline ticket.

Kim continued. "Damien, since it would be a fool's errand to once again send you to a sexual harassment seminar or a refresher course on how to behave in the modern-day work environment, I'm instead offering you this challenge. You have an open-ended first-class seat booked for your return to New York after the Kamali-Bryant case is over."

"Fuck yeah," Damien cheered.

Kim continued reading. "You will, however, lose twenty dollars off that ticket every time you drop a "fuck me", "fuck you", "fuck yeah" or any other creative use you find for the f-word. If you make another inappropriate sexual remark to a member of the NCIS office, that's good for one-hundred dollars off."

"Oh I love this," Michael laughed.

"The meter starts running the minute Kim is finished reading this. Behave yourself and you can fly back first class. Another day like yesterday, you'll be lucky to be a pet crate in the cargo section of the plane. Sincerely, your boss."

"I like that woman," Sam said with a smile.

"Fuc….." Damien stopped himself. "Eff me."

"More like it. Callen and I will talk to your meth cooker." Callen and Sam made their way out of the power plant.

x-x-x

The chartered helicopter landed just before 10AM at Santa Barbara Municipal Airport. Kensi and Deeks were not the only passengers, a wealthy divorcee and her Pomeranian named Cooper shared the ride. Wealthy divorcee Claire was not happy Cooper had to remain in his cage but when the pilot promised to land the helicopter and leave Claire and Cooper in a strip mall parking lot, the remainder of the ride was quiet, if tense.

A BMW X3 was waiting in the charter company's parking lot for Kensi and Deeks's use. Cindy Greer's beach house was in not far from the Four Seasons. Kensi and Deeks were given ID's – she was internet millionaire Maddy Simmons and he was her musician husband Will – and were told to look around the area and see if what Ester and Brandon were up to after checking out Cindy Greer's old house.

Kensi was also interested in investigating pre-NCIS Deeks. When a task force member was waiting at their home after Kensi and Deeks left the office, they spent the night reviewing their covers and planning for a day in Santa Barbara. "Why didn't you tell me you were part of the Honos Project?"

"I was there for like two months. I wasn't part of the Honos project. I was on loan, like a library book."

"You could have mentioned it when you first showed up."

"Because name dropping would have made my first case as your partner go so much more smoothly. Sam was pissed I was sitting in Dom's chair, you didn't like being partnered up with LAPD, Callen mostly didn't care and I was nervous about failing."

"You thought you were going to fail?" Kensi was genuinely surprised.

"No, I thought I was being set-up to fail. Remember, I'm not Mr. Popular at LAPD. If I washed out of this because Sam was pissed or you weren't happy, I didn't expect a welcome with open arms and good cases as part of my triumphant return to LAPD."

"But you had your case with Jess."

"Jess was pushing hard with LAPD. If it brought down Emilio, who was moving a ton of product, LAPD was in. Human trafficking was more ICE, DEA and on some level CIA. Jess got that moved by the of her will. And if that worked out better, I still would have been back at NCIS because LAPD is happier with the Homeland checks for me than they are about me in general."

Kensi looked over at Deeks before turning her attention back to the road. "I still don't know why you don't join NCIS."

"You know why," Deeks looked right at her. "You know exactly why."

"Hetty is not going to do anything like the White Ghost again," Kensi said as much to reassure herself as to reassure Deeks. "She paid a big price for that."

"You paid the big price," he said sighing. "The ability to leave gives me a little leverage. Do we really want to have this conversation? Again?"

Kensi did not. "So tell me about Marty Deeks, up-and-coming modern art star."

"Not Marty Deeks," Deeks told her in a clipped tone. "I was Milo."

"Milo Deeks?"

"No, just Milo." Deeks returned to his normal speaking voice. "Milo was brilliant, needy, cocky, demanding and over the top dramatic."

"So you. Except for the brilliant part." Kensi teased.

"I'm a member of the California bar. I'm a highly trained member of the LAPD on loan to an elite team in a federal agency. Brilliant is just the start."

"So start with Milo. Why were you Milo?"

"Honos had two operatives, a DEA Agent from San Antonio named Miguel Fernandez and an ICE Agent from Miami named Felipe Torres, working as drivers and movers for an art gallery in the Meat Packing District in New York. The owners of the gallery were moving a ton of coke from Columbia in diplomatic planes with some of the works of art being brought to JFK. Some of the coke recipients were State Department officials who paid for their habit with diplomatic paperwork. Cartel members, a terrorist or two and members of FARC were all traveling this paperwork."

"Unbelievable. So how did you get involved?"

"Genevieve is jumpy sometimes. She thought Miguel and Felipe were made. Wiretaps were inconclusive but she pulls her people if she thinks there is a question about their safety."

"So what, they didn't show up one day and you did?"

"No, Honos faked a car wreck on the way to Kennedy airport. Fernandez and Torres were both reported badly injured. The gallery hired new drivers. That didn't impact the case. Honos had plenty on the gallery for the drugs. They wanted the paperwork connections.

"Makes sense."

"There was a sudden cancellation of the gallery. An artist had the IRS show up with a demand for back taxes and confiscated several pieces for the gallery." Deeks smiled. "Honos can be brutally efficient."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. Milo was looking for a space for his art and suddenly there was an opening."

"You made art?"

"No, these really ugly paintings showed up and I was booked for two weeks at the gallery. Setting up the show, I had access to several offices and got myself into their computers and files – something Miguel and Felipe couldn't get near working in the garage and loading dock areas."

"How was the show?"

"Milo bailed after he decided that everything look like sadness and returned to Los Angeles."

"But you stayed."

"Yeah. The team needed another pair of eyes for the legal end of the case. Since there were concerns about Milo running into some gallery people, I was set up a hotel room near Wall Street, car serviced to Honos's Lower Manhattan work space, ate a ton of take out or room service food, worked out in the private gym they have in the Honos office, was allowed to swim alone every night in the hour after the hotel pool was closed and then went back to my hotel room."

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"It was interesting watching the case come together. It was amazing to see how a well-financed and well-staffed team of lawyers work compared to what we had at the public defenders office." Deeks paused for a second. "With the case, the sense of accomplishment was different. What we do – the people we take into custody, we turn over to other people, JAG lawyers or federal prosecutors to make a case. Honos hears about something, builds a case from the ground up and makes it stick. That's what I was there for – they had me go through every piece of evidence, every legal document, everything and react to it as a defense attorney. Strategize what I'd do to assure my client would not be convicted."

"Probably didn't make you popular."

"No. They loved it. They wanted to know where the flaws in the cases were. They dot every 'I', they cross every 't'. Not a single defendant in this case when to trial. They were offered long sentences – Genevieve turned down all sorts of opportunities to be appointed to the bench because she said flat out her temperament is that of a hanging judge. Every defendant took their deal."

"Did she offer you a job?" Kensi wondered how close Deeks was to leaving LA in 2009.

"She asked me if I liked living in Manhattan, if I had any outstanding student loans, if I was looking for a change."

"So you said no."

"You don't say no to her. She won't offer if she doesn't think you really want it. So when I kept talking about missing surfing and missing the beach, she took the hint." As Kensi pulled onto Channel Drive, Deeks added, "She would have gotten to you, you know. She likes talented people."

"That assumes Hetty would have let me go."

"There's a battle I wouldn't mind watching. Four-foot-nine inch Hetty Lange versus five-foot-one inch Genevieve Fitzgerald for the little but fierce lightweight championship of the federal government. Let's get ready to rumble!"

Kensi chuckled. "Cindy Greer's little beach house is here." Kensi pointed to a modest beach home on the Santa Barbara/Modesto border as she pulled into the home's driveway.

"Yeah. The records show this little beach house is worth four-million-dollars. Do you we could Genevieve to give us each some cash for a house instead of donating like super cool computers to NCIS?"

"Keep playing the lottery Deeks, that's the only way we're getting a four-million-dollar beach house."

"Doesn't have to be a four-million-dollar beach house," Deeks said with a sigh as they left the car. "Just has to be on the beach."

Kensi looked around the front yard of the house while Deeks looked at the back of the house and unattached garage.

"Hey Kens," he called. "Come here."

Walking back, she asked "What's up?"

"You tell me. Notice anything about the garage?"

Kensi looked at the locked garage and shrugged her shoulders.

"Look at the tool shed," Deeks told her.

Kensi did as she was asked and again shrugged her shoulders and started walking to Deeks.

"Now look at the back door. What's different?"

Kensi walked up the two back door steps and turned around. "Security system is activated for the garage and the tool shed but not the house."

"That tool shed is about four hundred dollars at Home Depot. The house is worth four million – which one are you making sure is secure."

Kensi took out her lock picking tools while Deeks called in to Nell.

"What's going on?" Nell answered.

"How do you like your new location?" Deeks asked.

"They let you drink your coffee at your desk here," Nell said as she sat with Eric in their own area of the Honos Project's crib. "Eric may never leave."

"Play nice with the others. I need a home alarm system checked."

"Cindy Greer's place." Nell guessed.

"You got it."

"Hold on," Nell pulled up the Cindy Greer file and found what she needed. "The system is turned off except for the tool shed and garage."

"Are there security cameras?" Kensi asked as she worked on the lock.

"Yes. I'm looking at a late model BMW in the garage along with two regular bicycles. Gardening stuff in the tool shed. Lawnmower, rake, the usual."

"What about the house?" Deeks asked.

"It looks like the alarm system has to be on to get the cameras online."

"Got it!" Kensi said when the door opened.

"We're in the house, now. Can you turn on the alarm so you can access the cameras, Nell?" Deeks asked as he closed the back door behind him.

"It's cold," Kensi mentioned to Deeks. "Real cold in here."

"I don't see anything unusual in the video coming in," Nell said once the cameras were on. "I'm looking at a nice living room, neatly made beds in both bedrooms. No cameras in the bathrooms. Dining area and kitchen are clear. I can see you two so this isn't a fake feed. Kensi, you said it was cold. The house heating and cooling system is set to 60-degrees."

"That's cold. Why would you leave a like this house unsecured?" Kensi asked.

"Especially a house that expensive," Nell added.

"Maybe they're coming back – just running errands or visiting friends." Deeks said.

"Guys, I'm looking at the floor plans. There is a basement area. No cameras."

"You got a bad feeling about this?" Deeks asked Kensi.

She nodded yes.

"I do," Nell said over the phone. "The floor plans say there is a door between the kitchen and dining room that leads to the basement."

"Last time you and I were in a nice house with a basement, we nearly got 'Fifty Shades of Grey'-ed," Deeks joked.

"Deeks," Kensi said, seriously. She pointed to the basement door. A hasp and staple looked recently installed and the Kryptonite key lock looked brand new. There was also a wood bar across the door.

"That's not good." Deeks lifted the wood bar while Kensi looked in the nearby cabinets for tools. "Nell, we found the basement door, heavily secured."

"Do you need back-up?"

"Not yet. Kensi found a bolt cutter," Deeks said. "Who has a bolt cutter in the kitchen?"

Kensi showed Deeks the top of the bolt cutter. "Does that look like blood to you?" she asked.

Deeks looked at the tool. "Nell, we got blood on a tool here. We're probably going to need SBPD as soon as they can get there."

"I think you're technically in Montecito but I'll call it in to both."

"Tell them Kensi and I are here and armed. We're going into the basement." Deeks took out his weapon and blew lock off the door.

Opening the door, they heard a weak cry, "Down here, help us."

Kensi and Deeks slowly made their way into the basement.

Putting his gun down, Deeks turned on the phone's camera. "Nell you getting this?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll get some ambulances. And Callen, Sam and anyone else I can find."

-30-


Author's notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Not really.