Chapter 4: Illusions
"Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes... just be an illusion." – Javan
Kensi's had just about enough of the desert. It's cold, it's bland, and if she sees any more sand, she just might scream. Don't get her wrong, she's a California girl all the way. Sand, sun, and surf have always been her forte, but she's been picking sand out of her clothes and hair for over a month and she's just about at her limit.
The only thing making it tolerable has been Deeks. He might be half a world away, but her partner still has the ability to make her laugh and she keeps running through their sat phone call at Christmas over and over again. It's just about the only thing keeping her sane.
She's taken to tailing Sabatino whenever he leaves the base and at the moment she's in the middle of Jalalabad watching him from across the marketplace. He's been meeting with his informants all morning and while it's useful to have a working list of his allies if he does turn out to be White Ghost, she's been bored out of her mind for the last three hours. It's Deeks' fault, she concludes sullenly. She's too used to having her partner watching her back and cracking inappropriate jokes.
She's crossing the street for a better vantage point when she's knocked into from behind. The woman at fault looks up to catch her eyes when Kensi turns, giving her a flash of blonde hair and brilliant green eyes under her head scarf. "The Star, ten minutes, Callen sent me," the woman whispers, before backing away muttering apologies in Arabic.
The Star is a seedy looking hotel, two blocks down from where Sabatino is bowing goodbyes to his informant and if she goes after the woman she's going to lose him, but curiosity wins out in the end. Kensi gives the CIA operative one more glance before wandering through the market in the opposite direction. She stops at a couple stands as she goes for appearance's sake, buys a knitted scarf and a pair of finger gloves that she knows her partner will love, and arrives under The Star's fading blue awning with two minutes to spare.
The woman appears a moment later from a bakery across the street and beckons Kensi toward the alley opposite impatiently. Kensi frowns glancing up and down the street in both directions. She's all too aware of the chances of this being a trap, but no one seems to be paying them any undue attention, so she follows with one hand on her gun.
The woman's waiting for her, lurking in the shadows of the bakery's two story structure, and she motions urgently when Kensi appears in the threshold, "Come quickly, before someone notices."
She speaks perfect English with a strong European accent and Kensi suddenly has her suspicions. A flicker of a memory comes back to her, Callen mentioning a password of sorts that he'd used to verify CIA contacts back in the day. "What do you call a storm?" Kensi asks before she can second guess herself.
The woman looks her straight in the eye and doesn't hesitate, "Tempest, Agent Blye."
Kensi re-holsters her gun and breathes a little easier. If Callen trusts this woman, then so can she. "Kensi," She offers, reaching out to shake her hand.
"Sarah," She says without trying for a last name, "Callen sent me to give you a message, 'the past is a ghost, the future is a dream, and all we ever have is now'."
"What does that mean?" Kensi demands, there are times she hates Callen's paranoia and this is definitely one of them.
The woman doesn't respond, just presses a folded sheet of paper into her hand and starts to back away, "Good luck, Agent Blye."
…..
Kensi's laying on her bunk, shivering under six inches of blankets, trying to tune out the constant bleeping of computer systems in the main room and the fact that her nose went numb at least half an hour ago, when she catches the edge of Granger's voice. She pushes the blankets off, giving up on sleep, and cringes as her feet hit the cold floor and Granger's agitated voice rises.
He hangs up as she moves to join him asking, "What's going on?"
The assistant director gestures to the screen in front of him displaying a map of the Afghani desert a couple miles outside of their base, "We lost a chopper somewhere in here."
She takes in the map in new interest, noting the marked off radius as Granger asks, "You know this area?"
"It's where Sabatino ditched me," She admits, glancing back to catch his reaction, "Have you been in contact with him?"
"No," The assistant director has always been hard to read but she thinks she sees a hint of unease ghost across his features. "Get dressed," he orders, "We're heading out at first light."
…
Their resident tech operator is rising to stop them before Kensi even makes it inside the door, and she has a moment to wonder what else can happen today before he's delivering the bad news, "A convoy of armed insurgents has been spotted making a run for the Pakistani border."
He glances down to point out a spot on the map as Granger asks, "We think it's the White Ghost?"
Kensi shakes her head, she's never believed in coincidence, "That's close."
"It's probably the same bastards that shot down our chopper," the assistant director concludes.
Kensi's already moving, "I'll get my gear." And then to Booker, "Find me a bike."
"What are you going to do?" Granger demands, sounding somewhere between amused and annoyed.
"What you brought me here for," she states. She's killed before, but this a completely different monster, and a part of her wonders if it should be this easy. "You can talk me in," She concedes because he looks about ready to protest. As Kensi snatches up her borrowed rifle, she has a moment to wonder if he knows something she doesn't.
Kensi parks her bike under the crest of the hill. It's a risky cover, but the convoy's already in place and there's no way around them without being seen. They'll see her for sure once she takes the shot but hopefully by then it'll be too late for the Ghost. She has her rifle partially assembled by the time Granger's voice springs to life in her ear piece demanding an update.
"I see the convoy," she responds, screwing on the extended barrel, and if her voice is slightly breathless Granger doesn't comment, "Getting into position."
She pauses long enough to get her breathing and heartbeat under control. There's always a moment of adrenaline before she takes the shot, but this is different, and it's like her brain has just caught up with the knowledge of what she's about to do. Think of Deeks, she repeats like a mantra, the sooner this is done, the sooner you go home.
Granger's in her ear again as she settles the rifle in the crook of her shoulder, "Let us know when you have a positive I.D. on the White Ghost."
Kensi lines up her sights and starts scanning faces. "See him?" Granger asks, and she has to bite back an eye roll at his impatience.
One stands out, shaggy, straight, black hair and pale skin. Kensi starts to set up her shot, "Yeah, I see him."
"Okay," The assistant director's voice is steady, calm and Kensi latches on to that as her finger settles over the trigger. "Make the shot."
"He's behind the truck," she explains, shifting her hands back into a waiting position.
Patience is a virtue that every good sniper knows and she's one of the best, but Granger apparently never read William Langland and his tone is hovering on the edge of snapping, "Don't let him get away. That's an order."
She has no intention to, and Kensi shifts her sights, following as he circles around the truck, unknowingly exposing his back to the rifle's pin-point scope, "I've got him."
The adrenaline's taking over, washing out any doubts of whether killing this man is going to be too easy as Granger demands, "Take the shot."
Kensi dials in her focus, her finger settling over the trigger as Ghost reaches up to pull down his bandana and her brain stutters to a halt. It's impossible, an illusion, a ghost, but he's here staring right back at her. She's suddenly six years and two continents away, on Christmas morning in an empty bed and the only thing she can think is why now?
"Agent Blye, take the shot."
It's the assistant director that startles her back to awareness, his voice sharp and demanding in her ear and she raises the rifle once again, numbness taking over her fingers, and she can't do it. Even after everything he's done, the things he's suspected of doing as the Ghost, she can't kill him. The bullet flies true, pinging off the hood of their truck, and she only has a moment of realization before the insurgents start firing back.
She's half way back, Granger's voice in her ear drowned out by the bike's roar, when her stomach flips with the knowledge of what just happened. She swallows down the bile that burns in her throat and blinks away angry tears. Why now? It's been cycling through her head like a broken record. Why did he have to come back now, right when things are starting to look up with Deeks?
Kensi still doesn't have an answer by the time she stows her bike inside the base's security point and heads for her temporary home. Home, the thought almost makes her sick.
Granger's waiting for her when she bursts into the trailer all demands and accusations, "What the hell happened?"
"I didn't have a good shot," The lie slips off her tongue before she has a chance to think about it and she's practically on her toes with the need to be anywhere but here.
"Did you even take one?" Granger snaps, stepping into her path.
She rocks back in surprise, reclaiming her space, "Yes."
It comes off far sharper than she intended and Granger latches onto her slip, "And?"
"I missed, ok?" Kensi snaps, and cringes when it sounds as weak as it really is. She doesn't miss, and she definitely doesn't let the bad guys get away, except apparently she does now. "I missed. I'm not even sure it was him."
"Saw his face?" Granger asks and she hesitates, yes, too well. "Blye," he demands and she manages to stutter a response, "Barely."
Kensi blathers her way through his pushing for details and retreats to the hole in the wall she calls home. The door slams shut behind her, leaving her alone in the dark, and Kensi rests her head against the wall, trying to catch her breath. Why now, Jack? Why now?