Chapter 3: Connections

"Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the great." - Roger de Rabutin.

It's been a week since Callen's promise that they'd talk later and Deeks is just about to the point of asking for clarification on just how long later is in Callen's books. Still he knows better than to push the ex CIA operative, Sam's just about the only who can get away with that without receiving a black eye for their troubles. He's tried calling Kensi by sat phone the last three nights, but between the time difference and their latest op he hasn't been able to get through.

It's just after 9 p.m. and the mission is quiet on both levels aside from Hetty and a few remaining techs. He risks a glance around; making sure no one's paying any specific attention to him before he unlocks the bottom desk drawer and reaches for his Christmas present from Hetty. The satellite phone rings once in his ear before redirecting to a standardized 'The operator you have dialed is not available' message. It's so much worse than the empty ringing he's had the last three nights and Deeks pulls the phone away from his ear, swallowing down the urge to throw it at Owen Granger's face. It's already been a long day though between Sam and Callen nearly getting killed protecting one of Hetty's old assassin buddies and him pairing up with Downton Abby and getting suspended for assaulting the assistant director would just be the icing on the cake.

Instead he tugs his drawer open, replaces the sat phone, and frowns as he notices a sticky note wedged between his cuticle clippers and spare magazines. There's a street address wrote on it in slanted, blocky scrawl signed with a single letter and Deeks shakes his head as he refuses to imagine how Callen managed to slip a note into his locked drawer in one of the most secured locations this side of D.C. without being noticed.

Google Maps tells him that the address is in Valencia, a twenty minute drive from the Mission, and he spends the entire ride over debating whether this is Callen's idea of a newbie scavenger hunt or if he'll finally learn where exactly his partner has been reassigned to. He kind of doubts that G would send him on a wild goose chase after promising that they'd talk later so he crosses his fingers and breaks the speed limit three times on the ride over.

It's a residential house on a corner that Deeks pulls up in front of and he has to double check the address because this the last place on earth he would have expected. He steps out of his car and heads for the front door noting the white stucco archway and the roses growing up and across the top. If this is Callen's idea of a practical joke, he's going to string the lead agent up, or at least try and he knocks on the door fully expecting to have the wrong place.

Instead it's Sam that opens the door, dressed in sweats and looking remarkably more relaxed than Deeks has ever seen him at work. "Hi," Deeks stutters in surprise, "Callen left-" He waves the note in the air as explanation and tries to figure out which cat it was that stole his tongue.

"I know," Sam states, holding the door open and failing to hide his smirk, "Get in here already."

Sam leads him down a hallway, past a living room that contains exactly two pieces of furniture, and into an only slightly less Spartan kitchen. Callen's standing with his back to them, staring out the kitchen window, the same satellite phone in his hand, and in the middle of another argument.

"I need clearance and a plane on standby, that's all, John," Callen says, his tone walking the fine line between asking and telling. He listens for a moment, rolling his eyes at an indiscriminate spot out the window, and finally takes a leap straight into demanding, "You owe me and you know it. Do you really want me to bring up St. Petersburg?"

The agent listens for a moment, then hangs up, and tosses the sat phone on the counter, "About time you got here, Deeks."

"You could have just given me a call, or texted. Texting is always good," He blathers, before frowning, "Where is here anyway?"

"You're the detective." Sam smirks, sinking into one of the folding chairs surrounding a card table set up in one corner of the kitchen, "Detect."

Callen shoots his partner a look that's somewhere between annoyed and amused, and waves Deeks into one of the other chairs before perching on the edge of the countertop, "I live here, Deeks. I had to be sure we weren't being bugged."

"You live here?" Deeks asks just to make sure he heard that right before glancing around at the complete and utter lack of furnishings. "Which is cool and all, but dude, where is all your stuff?"

Sam rolls his eyes with an air that clearly states that they've had this argument multiple times before explaining, "G doesn't do stuff."

"How do you not do stuff?" Deeks demands just because someone has to and then moves on because as much as he would like to bring Callen up to speed with this month's Home & Garden, Kensi's safety is the much more pressing issue. "But I'm guessing I'm not here to decorate."

"No," Callen admits, "You're not."

"But G, we just want you to find a nice girl," Sam interjects, smiling through Callen's glare with the ease of practice.

"Anyway," Deeks says, interrupting the bickering war before it can escalate any further. "If I'm not here to play interior designer, not that I don't do a mean Debbie Travis, then why am I here?"

"What do you know about Kensi's op?" Sam asks suddenly all business.

"Only that it involves a White Ghost, who isn't actually a racist spectre." Deeks answers before jumping to the question that's been running around in his head since Granger first decided to stick his nose in places it didn't need to be. "Kensi is where, again?"

"Kabul." Callen states, sliding off the countertop to occupy the chair directly across from Deeks, "She was reassigned to a temporary air force base between Kabul and Jalalabad."

"Afghanistan." Deeks repeats, still somehow half in shock, because now that he knows it just brings up a million more questions. "What's this have to do with White Ghost?"

"White Ghost is the mission," Sam explains, leaning back in his chair to stretch the stiffness from his shoulders.

"Ghost is a CIA wives tale," Callen takes over, before he can point out that Sam's explanation really explains nothing. "Or at least he was until about six months ago. There have been rumors circling for years that an American, ex Special Forces agent has been feeding information to the Taliban. Times and places of raids, names of informants and undercover agents, routes followed by transports, information that's damaging to U.S. personnel on the ground."

"So what happened six months ago?" Deeks asks.

The partners share a glance that conveys an entire conversation leaving Deeks with the feeling that their not telling him something important, before Callen picks up the lead again, "Six months ago a CIA deep cover agent was found dead in his hotel room outside Jalalabad. An hour before his death he uploaded a series of surveillance photos to a secure drop point. They were all of the same man, none showing his face, with the notation 'White Ghost'. Since then he's been linked to half a dozen murders and implicated in information leaks across the globe."

"And Kensi's there to find him," Deeks concludes. It's an information overload after a month and a half of no answers and his imagination running wild, and he's not entirely sure which is worse.

Sam shakes his head, "Not exactly."

And Deeks has a moment to wonder if Callen's paranoia is contagious, before the lead agent utters the most baffling statement Deeks has heard yet, "Ever heard of Pepperwood Pet Supplies?"

"Should I have?" Deeks asks because that klepto cat has made its reappearance and taken off with his tongue. It takes him a moment to come up with something appropriately witty along the lines of Sam being jealous of Monty's haircut and by the time he does Callen's standing.

"You might want to take a look, Deeks." The lead agent says, digging a scrap of paper from his pocket with login information scrawled across it.

Deeks doesn't question it, just follows the lead agent to the door and this time it's Callen that catches his elbow before he can step out, "Deeks." He waits till the Detective turns, "Be ready to move."

Deeks nods mutely because suddenly this whole thing has become real. His partner's half a world away hunting a man who has killed at least half a dozen people with no back up other than the assistant director, the fact that she hasn't been answering his calls only makes it worse.

What would you do?

Anything…

Callen squeezes his arm, trying to be reassuring, and then retreats back to his kitchen leaving Deeks on the porch with some of his answers and even more questions. Sam's waiting for him, staring a hole into the wall, but he looks over as Callen sinks into the opposite chair, "You aren't going to tell him who Ghost is, are you?"

Callen shakes his head sullenly; it's not his secret to tell, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."