Author's Note: I just wanted to say a very special thank you to everyone who has read, favorite, and followed this story. Thank you all, Riptide2

Chapter 7: Knowledge

"Love is ever the beginning of knowledge as fire is of light." – Thomas Carlyle

Deeks is just about vibrating in his seat with adrenaline by the time they clear U.S. airspace. It's at least a six hour flight from L.A. to Kabul and that's not counting the storm brewing Southeast of Hawaii that they're going to have to detour around. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the weather's conspiring against them. The smart thing would be to push his seat back and try to get some rest, but Deeks has a caffeine induced rush flooding through his veins, a leaden ball of worry lodged in his throat, and he's starting to regret that second Redbull.

Callen's current mood isn't helping any either. The lead agent's been quiet since they left Deeks' apartment this morning, the snappish note in his voice betraying the fact that he's more worried than he cares to let on, and Deeks has a sinking suspicion that he knows something more than he's saying. It's Callen though, the superspy extraordinaire, and he always seems to be three moves ahead of everyone else so Deeks isn't really sure whether that's a valid insight or his own paranoia.

The ex CIA operative shares a joke and a tense smile that comes off more like a grimace with the pilot, a John that apparently has no last name but quite the past with Deeks' team leader, before closing the cockpit door and rejoining him. Deeks looks up as Callen slips into the seat across from and facing his and the lead agent stares out the window for a moment before turning back to him, "Ok, you have questions."

It's a statement, not a question, and there's something resigned in Callen's eyes that makes Deeks hesitate, but if he's offering, than Deeks isn't going to give up a chance to get a few more of his answers, "Why was Kensi sent after White Ghost?"

G nods slowly, something akin to approval flashing in his eyes. Apparently that was the right question to ask. "She was sent there to find him," he says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "and kill him."

It takes Deeks a moment to wrap his head around that one because government sanctioned assassinations are something he's only read about in cheesy spy thrillers and heard whispered about in backrooms by the CIA. Then again given who he's sitting beside, Deeks thinks that just maybe he should revise his definition of cheesy, "That's why they needed Kensi, because she's a sniper?"

"Not exactly," Callen looks away for half a minute, wariness and worry fighting for dominance in his eyes, before he turns back to Deeks. "What do you know about her ex-fiancé?"

"Jack?" Deeks asks just to be sure because he's only ever heard her talk about him twice, the first time in trying to get a scam artist of a marine to open up and the second after a case gone awry and a night spent in the hospital with a concussed Kensi calling him 'Jack' and demanding to know why he left.

"Yes," the lead agent doesn't elaborate for a while, long enough for Deeks to think the conversation's over before he shifts in his seat, fingers reaching out to subconsciously brush over the rifle case propped beside him, "What do you know about him?"

"Not a lot," Deeks answers truthfully, because all he knows is what he heard from Kensi in the interrogation room with Lieutenant Lance Talbot, "Only that he had PTSD and that he left."

Callen doesn't respond for another long moment, just continues absentmindedly fingering the case of his rifle. The movement strikes Deeks as oddly unguarded for the lead agent, Callen's usually the type to show only what he wants you to see, and yet there's clearly something he isn't saying. "Why Jack?" Deeks asks after a moment, when it becomes obvious his team leader isn't going to continue. "Where does he fit into all of this?"

The lead agent shakes his head instantly. If there's a line in this conversation, than Deeks is tiptoeing awfully close to it and Callen looks him straight in the eye as he says, "That isn't my secret to tell."

Deeks nods, feeling like he's dropped into some variant of the twilight zone and tries to mash the pieces together into something that vaguely resembles a picture. "But you do know?" He demands as Callen pops open the case and starts field stripping his rifle.

The ex-operative tilts his head in something that might be an affirmative. Deeks decides to interpret it as agreement and continues, "And you aren't going to tell me?"

Callen shoots him a look filled with silent warning, the same one that scares terrorists and dares suspects to keep lying, and Deeks buries the urge to scream. His partner's half a world away, missing, and Callen's keeping secrets about her ex-fiancé who may or may not be involved. If there was ever a time to despise the lead agent's paranoia, this was it.

Instead Deeks turns his attention to something else because tying himself into knots isn't going to do anyone any good and Callen may not be the most trusting person in the world but he'd never let anything happen to Kensi, or any of them, if he could help it. Naturally his eyes fall on the half assembled weapon in his boss' lap: a Remington 700. It's a sleek, pure black work of art. Callen's rifle is a higher caliber than Kensi's, but with cleaner lines, the only accessory a laser mounted scope. It's designed for stealth, classic but powerful and more reliant on a steady hand and a sharp eye.

"So why don't you snipe anymore?" The question's out before Deeks realizes it and he catches Callen reaction with surprise as the lead agent's hands still halfway through unscrewing the extended barrel.

G sucks in a breath and blows it out slowly, eyes still on the rifle in his hands, "It's a long story."

"We're going to be on this plane for at least five more hours." Deeks measures his words carefully, makes sure it comes out as an offer instead of a demand. Forcing the issue isn't going to do anything but bring up every one of Callen's walls and for a moment he wishes Sam was here. Those two have always been remarkably good at balancing each other out and he can't help but wonder if he's ever going to get to that point with Kensi where they can understand each other completely and communicate with a glance instead of this indirect, confusing dance.

He doesn't respond for a long moment and Deeks' turns back to stare out the window at the mass of turbulent blue waves passing underneath them. He didn't really expect Callen to elaborate, not with him anyway, because before this whole thing Deeks would have been hard pressed to describe them as friends. Colleagues, along with a good dose of mutual respect for the other's skills and a willingness to put their lives in each other's hands, and Deeks isn't entirely sure what that makes them, but friends seems still a little out of reach.

"The last time I used this rifle-" Callen's voice startles Deeks out of his thoughts and it takes him a moment to mask his surprise enough to nod for his boss to continue. It doesn't seem to matter though, because the ex-operative's eyes are on the weapon in his hands and not Deeks as he continues, "I was hunting down the person who killed my last partner."