Deeks walked into a bar somewhere in downtown Los, Angeles. He stood in the door and surveyed the area just inside. Men and women shuffled about the place laughing and drinking themselves into pitiful and unpleasant stupors.
Deeks searched the crowd until his eyes landed on a shadowy-looking man sitting at a table near the back of the place. He moved forward, pushing his way smoothly through the crowd of drunkards and ne'er-do-wells.
He reached the table, and stared down at the man for a long moment. He had only one thing on his mind at that point—and that was finding the bastard responsible for putting his partner in the ICU in critical condition.
This man was Carlos Peretti, one of the best and most dependable CIs that Deeks knew. Deeks and Carlos went back several years, as Carlos was one of the first CIs he recruited back in his early days on the force.
"You sure you weren't followed?" Deeks asked.
The man looked up at Deeks, and swished his dark bangs out of his face. "Yeah. You?"
Deeks dropped into the nearest seat, and rubbed a hand up and down his weary face. "No tails tonight." Deeks replied, with a sigh.
The other man looked sympathetically at the shaggy-haired detective. "Man, you look like hell—you alright D?"
Deeks shook his head at the man. "I'd respond to that, but I think you already know the answer." Deeks remarked, looking across the table at the man.
The man nodded. "Yeah, guess you got me there." He replied with a short chuckle. "So what can I help you with this evening?" Carlos asked, smoothing his dark hair back with one hand, as he leaned back in his chair.
Deeks pulled a small photograph from his pocket, and passed it across the table to the other man. "The man in this photo…that's what I want." Deeks said coldly.
Carlos studied the photo for a long moment. "This guy…yeah, I've seen him before. They were talking about this guy on the news." Carlos said, looking up at Deeks. "I mean, it was a police sketch, but this is the guy. No doubt about it."
Deeks nodded. "I know. Look, Carlos, you're the best at what you do…that's why I always come to you for the important stuff." Deeks pulled another photograph from his pocket, and carefully unfolded it before handing it to the other man.
"Hey, I've seen this one before too." Carlos remarked as he studied the second photograph—this one was of a familiar beautiful brunette woman. "This is the one you work with isn't it?"
"She's important to me, Carlos." Deeks told his friend. "She's fighting for her life in a hospital right now, because of that bastard." Deeks was almost speaking through gritted teeth towards the end of his statement, and his fists were clenching and unclenching under the table.
"I need you to put some feelers out." Deeks told the man, leaning a little bit closer as he spoke. "Find out what you can, and I mean anything at all." Deeks pulled out a pen, and passed it to the other man. "And I'll still pay you…whatever your price, just name it—I'll pay it."
Carlos thought for a log moment as he stared down at the two photographs in his hands. "Tell you what," the man said as he picked up the pen and uncapped it. "Here's my price." Carlos took one of Deeks' hands, and just as he always did when dealing with the shaggy-haired detective, he began to scribble something on Deeks' palm.
After a few seconds he laid the pen down on the tabletop, and closed Deeks' hand. "When you recruited me, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place." He said quietly. "All I wanted to do then, was provide for my family—but I was doing it the wrong way."
Deeks looked a little bit confused as he held his still closed fist underneath the table, as was the custom for these CI meetings with Carlos Peretti.
"If it hadn't been for you giving me a second chance…I might not have a family to go home to anymore." He added, with a small grin. "It would seem I have work to do. We'll be in touch Detective." He said. Then he stood up, and walked away—disappearing into the thick crowd of people just a few seconds later.
Deeks pulled his hand out from under the table, and read what the other man had scribbled across his palm.
This one's on me, Bro. Now we're even. Deeks looked up from the writing on his hand, and a single tear rolled silently down his cheek. "Thanks man." He whispered under his breath.
Several Hours Later…
Callen and Sam had spent the last few hours at the mission working upstairs in Ops. They were both tired, as was evident by the haggard looks worn on their faces. At present Callen stood alone in the room pouring over LAPD dossiers and other such content related to the serial rapist/killer who had put Kensi in ICU.
Sam strolled back into the room carrying two cups of freshly brewed coffee. He stopped in the doorway, and watched his partner for a long moment before speaking up or moving even an inch.
Callen ran a hand over his face and tried to shake the exhaustion that was starting to set in. "I know you're behind me Sam." Callen said over his shoulder, with a sigh.
Sam chuckled slightly. "So you're still awake then?" Sam moved towards his partner balancing the two coffee cups along the way.
"Obviously not." Callen replied, turning his body halfway to find his partner's outstretched hand holding a Styrofoam coffee cup. "For me?"
"Yeah." Sam replied, as he watched Callen accept the cup of fresh coffee. "I got one for myself too." He added, showing Callen his own cup.
"You don't drink coffee." Callen pointed out between sips of his own drink. "You drink juice."
Sam nodded. "People change G."
Callen only nodded in response. There was a certain uneasiness in the air around them, and as hard as they both tried to ignore it—they just couldn't.
"We need to stop." Sam said finally, unable to ignore the obvious any longer. "We've been at it for 12 hours straight now…I think its time for a break."
Callen shook his head, and turned back to the table littered with documents and crime scene photos. He set his coffee cup down nearby, and began to shuffle through the piles of papers once again for the umpteenth time since they'd started.
"We can stop later." Callen said without looking up. "Right now, the guy that tried to kill Kensi is still out there somewhere."
Sam nodded. "I know. But we've looked at everything, multiple times, and come up empty that same number of times." Sam pointed out. "We need a break, and then we can come back with fresh eyes."
"My eyes are still good." Callen replied quickly.
Sam let go of a long, tired sigh. "G, I know how you feel okay." Sam admitted.
Callen turned around at his partner's words. "Oh yeah…How's that?" he pressed the muscular black man standing just a few feet away.
"I know what she means to you." Sam told him. "She told me about how the whole thing." Sam admitted once again. "I know you had feelings for her at one time, and I also know that she turned you down."
"Its in the past Sam." Callen insisted as he turned back to his work.
"You sure?" Sam asked, arching an eyebrow in his partner's direction. "I think Deeks would disagree."
Callen shook his head angrily. "Deeks is the reason this happened." Callen pointed out. "He was her partner, he was supposed to protect her—he failed."
"No. He didn't, what happened to Kensi is not his fault. And let's face it G, we need his help." Sam told his partner. "He's got resources we don't have—resources we need, if we're gonna have any hope of catching this guy."
"Forget it, I'm not asking an outsider for help—not him."
…TBC…