The Bad Guys Never Forget & Never Forgive

Chapter 11

a/n: my, but us fanfic reader/writers are a sick bunch of puppies...I think we're scarier than any of the bad guys we come up with...not only coming up with and writing these "whumping" scenes, but begging for them...really ! YES, I'm planning on doling out some torture to our beloved team leader...need it to move the plot along and dump even more angst onto our poor detective.

...NCIS LA...

With the setting of the sun, Callen knew it had been more than eight hours since they had touched down at Harkin's small compound. He was surprised when the beatings had stopped and for the most part he had been left alone after he and Harkin's little chat. But that left him with little else to do but think and mull over his predicament and the terrifying events of the day.

He knew that Hetty had seen it all, on thermals, from Ops; that Sam and Kensi wouldn't have been that far out...what he didn't know was whether it was enough, whether they were on time to save the injured detective. He didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that Harkin's seemed assured that Deeks was not only alive but would find them in this hidden compound. Even if the detective was somehow not that badly injured and capable of leaving the hospital, how would Deeks even know this place existed when the Feds missed it while trying to track down and confiscate as many of Harkin's assets as possible during the investigation and subsequent trial.

He squirmed uncomfortably in the seat he had been sitting in for the last several many hours...though he tried not to dwell on it, he couldn't help the knots that formed in his gut knowing what was likely in store for him. He'd read the reports, seen the crime scene photos...he knew what Harkin's was capable of, knew he was most likely going to suffer a similar painful and gruesome fate.

The possibility of pain, of death, mixed with a healthy dose of uncertainty ...it was part of the job for an agent, you couldn't dwell on the 'what ifs' and 'maybes' and be able to do this job: but that didn't mean the thoughts weren't there, just that tiniest bit of fear, lurking in the shadows. But he found the fear wasn't only for himself, but for the detective as well...if Harkin's killed him, well...but to know it would be on Deeks conscious...that didn't set well with the seasoned agent—that he was a means to an end to make the detective suffer filled him with a smoldering rage.

The door suddenly opened, pulling Callen from his thoughts and he watched warily as one of Harkin's hired goons wheeled in a metal tray table, its contents covered by a black cloth. It didn't take a trained agent to know that the covered cart did not bode well for the agent...and he steeled himself for what he knew, and imaged, would be coming: his mind again flashing through the autopsy and crime scene photos from years before.

Harkins came in several moments later, lifting the cloth and inspecting the contents, before turning to his prisoner, "So Agent Callen, how good are your people...how long before they find this place...?"

"What...?" Called asked in utter surprise, "...how the hell are they gonna find this place now if the feds didn't find it before?"

Callen honestly didn't understand why and how Harkins was so very sure that this place would be found, they had divested him of his earwig and phone long ago, so tracing the missing agent through those means was out of the question; and he knew the range of the thermal imaging did not extend the full distance they had traveled to get their current location.

"I don't get you...you manage to pull off the perfect escape...you had all the Marshalls killed that could ID your men..."Callen began, and although he was loathe to ask the man for anything he just had to know, "...and you had Detective Deeks in your sight, you could have...you could have killed him then and there; so why are you doing this? Why did you bring me here...you could have been out of the country by now...?"

"Not quite everyone..." Harkins replied absently as he removed the cloth and began running his hand over the various items laid out.

Callen didn't know whether to be relieved or frustrated that Harkin's body was blocking his view of exactly what was on the cart. He shook his head and asked impatiently, "not quite everyone...what?"

Turning to the agent, Harkins continued conversationally, "not quite everyone is dead..."

A slight thrill of hope ran through Callen that Deeks might still be alive, but was quickly replaced by worry that Harkins was so sure of the fact—which could only mean one thing..."you have someone on the inside..."

Harkins lay a finger aside his nose then pointed to Callen with a small nod, commenting with sarcasm, "just the kind of deductive reasoning I'd expect from a government agent..."

Ignoring the insult, Callen asked, "...still doesn't explain why your expect them to find this place...shouldn't your inside man be leading them away from this place, not towards it: thought you hired smarter help than that...?"

"I don't hire them to think, I hire them to do as their told...and follow the baser nature of all men..." Harkins snapped.

Not quite understand the man's reasoning, Callen furrowed his brow and asked slowly, "so, let me get this straight...you want you informant to lead them here?"

Harkins rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently, "Really, so prosaic and one dimensional in your thinking, agent Callen."

"So sorry I'm a little slow on the uptake today, I've got a lot on my mind right now..." Callen replied with biting sarcasm.

Harkins just shook his head, "the plan was always to lead the feds to this place...after all, an 'inside man', as you basely call it, it of little use without the proper clearance to get me the information I may require..."

Callen scowled at the man as he attempted to weed through the convoluted thinking of the sociopath standing before him, after all, he was an agent—not a profiler.

"So you leave one Marshall alive—and he, what...you give him the location so he can lead them here," Callen said slowly, asking, "...to what end? If you wanted to be caught again, why escape to begin with?"

The man just rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration, "you're still thinking linearly, Agent Callen...of course I would not have been here when the feds finally showed up..."

When Callen just looked at him blankly, Harkins just shook his head, "...thanks to our mutual acquaintance—Detective Deeks, I lost quite a bit of my assets...and as I don't have much time to re- acquire said assets..."

"You're dying..." Callen said bluntly, adding, "...so why not take what you do have and lay low...?"

"Really...'lay low', like I am some common criminal...hardly," Harkins said in disgust. "There is a chance this cancer can be put in remission...but it's costly..."

Realization dawning, Callen interjected, "and the treatment will tap out what resources you still have available..."

"Ineloquent, but essentially correct..." Harkins replied.

"So you need to make a quick, easy buck..." Callen scoffed, shaking his head, "still doesn't explain why you need an inside man to lead the Marshall's here...they'll confiscate what's here...?"

"Basic economic premise...'you have to spend money to make money'...a small investment in my 'inside man's' future career options. The agent that has this piece of work under their belt..."

Nodding, Callen interrupted, "will most likely get a promotion...gain more access to more Intel...a higher clearance..."

"All that money and assets out there just waiting to be brokered...or taken...from those amateurs the FBI and Marshall Service are investigating" Harkins said.

"You expect your man to fill you in on ongoing cases...lead you to suspects..." Callen said, "...he leads an assault team to this location, confiscates some of your hidden assets—that would be a real feather it the agents cap that could do that, get them a promotion...but, how, was your man supposed to find this place without arousing suspicion..."

Turning to the agent with a casual smile, Harkin's said, "...now, that's where our detective was to play his part..."

"Deeks...how..." Callen asked slowly, not liking where this conversation was leading, "it wasn't just about leading them here...it was a set up...this was a set up—for Deeks! So, that's why he was riding in the transport van...to make it easier for your men to take him...what, was he wired...?"

Harkin's just looked at the struggling agent, a smug look crossing his features.

Callen fought against his restraints angrily, "You bastard...so you manage to buy off an agent...get them to betray another cop..."

Harkins just shook his head, "I just trolled the water...dangled the worm on the hook, paid the right snitches to say the right thing...your Marshall Masterson played right into my plans when he jumped at the chance to 'use' the detective as his own little tracking device..."

"After a few well-placed suggestions by your inside man no doubt..." Callen scoffed.

"My man did not quite have the necessary pull to orchestrate my plan...so; we had to put that little bird in Masterson's ear..." Harkins just shrugged, "Rather poetic justice, don't you think...so Shakespearian really—betrayal for betrayal and such; I trusted him...who he claimed to be, saw him like a brother. So who better to be an instrument in his death but his 'brother's in blue'...his death the first step to remaking what he destroyed..."

"But you gave it all up...you changed the game plan...why...?" Callen asked.

"Because a quick death is to clean...too good for that Judas," Harkins ground out angrily, slamming his fist into the metal tray, "...because as satisfying as tearing into his flesh-tearing out his heart...laying bare his fears, seeing his soul consumed in guilt...that's what destroys a man like our detective...and you, agent Callen, will be the instrument in that destruction..."

"I will not help you destroy a good man..." Callen spat out angrily.

Turning back toward the bound agent, a sadistic smile crossing his features, Harkins replied conversationally, as he reached down and picked up a coiled whip from the cart, "What make you think you have a choice..."

...NCIS LA...

a/n: sorry, not the level of torture you might have wanted, I'll try to add it in the next chapter as Harkin's plan unravels from the 'other' side...I just hope this chapter made sense...it was a struggle to write...