3. "I can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction: I served in the United States Navy." - John F. Kennedy

April 8, 2010

The swell was anything but. The gulls were in but nothing was going on wave-wise. Nearly an hour in the water and he caught exactly four worthwhile waves. Deeks thought about coming in but then he saw Agent Blye walking down the beach. Sadly, she wasn't dressed for the beach - just jeans on those legs that seem to go on forever, a white henley tee-shirt and a black leather jacket. She was carrying something that he recognized as his grey hoodie. He remembered the last place he saw it was hanging on the surveillance camera in NCIS's interrogation room/holding cell.

Deeks caught a pretty good wave. By moving up and down his board, he milked what could have been a short ride into a near complete trip to the beach And waiting for him was a rather unimpressed Agent Blye. "I came to return this," she said as he neared, holding out the hoodie.

"Good morning," he said to her with a big smile as he planted his surf board in the sand and leaned on it. Taking back his hoodie, he said "I would have been happy to pick this up myself if my safety could be guaranteed. So where are Riggs and Murtaugh?"

"Who?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "Let me guess, fancy education, super-secret elite," he cleared his throat just before the word elite, "division of NCIS must mean all work and no play makes Kensi Blye a pop-culturally challenged agent."

She scoffed at that. "Are you always this humorous in the morning or do you just think you are?"

"Darling, the Marty Deeks experience is fun twenty-four/seven/365. So seriously, what am I saying - you're always serious, your NCIS chaperones aren't here to protect you from the big, bad, wounded and recovering Naval Commander?"

"You didn't look too wounded riding in," she said pointing to the surf board. "Did you really have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday or was that another lie?"

"There were no lies on Tuesday, Agent Blye, let's make that clear," Deeks told her. "You may not have been read in on some facts about me that weren't pertinent to my client's situation but you were told what exactly what you needed to know. Your team started snooping around in matters that were none of their business and, unfortunately for me, that lead to the complete overreaction on your side."

"We were wrong. And we heard that, in stereo, from both the SecNav and the Director of NCIS. You've got friends in very high places, Commander."

"It's Deeks. And yes, I had a full physical and fitness test Tuesday afternoon at Coronado. I need to re-qualify before I can return to duty. Now, why are you here?"

"It's a public beach."

"And one I will be leaving. Thanks for my hoodie back. You have a good day, Agent Blye," he told her as he picked up his board and started making his way home.

"It's Kensi. So, do you live here?" she asked as she followed him up the beach.

"Yes, I do. But you probably know that, don't you? The Admiral sent an e-mail advising me that he was sharing my service record with your people in the spirit of cooperation. A spirit I wasn't really feeling yesterday morning, by the way. Surely, you read it if you wound up here. I can't imagine your morning routine includes trolling the beach for handsome surfers to talk to before going to work."

"The Admiral's office did have your file sent over. Unfortunately, they sent the undercover file as Commander Deeks, JAG officer from Port Hueneme," she told him as they walked to a small beach house. "I guess there was a clerical error."

No, Deeks thought to himself, Jackie was expressing her displeasure for his treatment. The next time the Chief Petty Officer accidentally sends the wrong file anywhere will be the first time. "I'm sure they can send an encrypted one through a secure server." Deeks noticed the sun hit the buttons on Kensi's henley just so. So she wasn't alone. This could be fun. "Since you're here, I assume you want something. I want breakfast. You're more than welcome to come in."

"I don't need a warrant?" she joked as they walked up to a wall of shrubbery.

"No, but no hunting around in my stuff either. Besides, I really need some breakfast," he said as he put his hand into a small gap in the bushes. He typed his access code to into the hidden keypad and pushed his thumb onto the fingerprint scanner. There was a beep and a green metal gate opened just between the bushes.

"Very stealth."

"When I first moved in, Noah Hunter lived next door."

"The boy band guy?" she asked as the climbed the stairs to the back of his house.

"Riggs and Murtaugh are a complete mystery to you but Noah Hunter is in your wheelhouse. Good to know. Anyway, Noah was in the middle of his walkabout from sanity just before I got home from a tour about a year ago. Lots of drugs, lots of parties for the dreamy young Noah. Also lots of accidentally walking over, climbing the fence to my place and doing things the minder his mother hired would object to."

"He'd just break in here."

"He would. I don't think anyone told that kid 'no' since he made his first ten million. Anyway, I did have pretty good security cameras around the place and while I was fulfilling my duty to the Navy, he was schtupping, you should pardon my Yiddish, some little blonde on a Disney Channel show - Maddie Madison or something."

"Eww."

"When I got home after my four month tour in an undisclosed country and a week-long debrief at ONI, I went straight to bed since I was worn out. Around 5AM, I've got America's singing sweetheart befouling my old lounge chairs on the balcony outside my bedroom window." He let a fake shiver go through him as he returned his surfboard to its stand on his back deck. He hung the hoodie on a hook near the beach shower. "After I go out with a shotgun and end their little love connection, I check through my security video and found this was a fairly regular thing. I downloaded the assorted trysts onto a DVD and called his legal representation. For the DVD, my security camera feed hard drives and my promise I wouldn't sell any of this to TMZ, Hunter would never set foot on my property again, pay for an upgrade of my security system and buy me new outdoor furniture. I know a former Special Forces badass with his own security company so the upgrade was easy. I also told the lawyers if I caught the kid here again, he'd pay and not in security systems and lounge furniture."

"I bet Noah didn't like that."

"He played victim in all this. His mother demanded to meet me because her little darling was so traumatized by the mean man next-door having a gun. She was convinced he was being taken advantage of by me," Deeks chuckled at the thought as he started peeling off his wet suit. "Again, Kensi, commando,"

She quickly turned around and he was grateful for that. Much more fun to talk about that little shit next-door Noah than his assorted scars. He rinsed himself off under the his beach shower, "I don't think the kid was all that frightened living next door to me but Noah's mom was a piece of work. She called the Malibu Sheriff to tell him I was armed. The Sheriff's Department knows I'm Navy so that wasn't a problem. She was complaining to the lawyers about the cost of the security upgrades here the day I was dropping off the DVDs and hard drives." Deeks finished his rinse did a quick dry and threw on a pair of grey board shorts, flip-flops and an O'Neill long-sleeve shirt. "I walked in wearing my dress blue uniform since I was returning from a funeral. She was very quiet after that. Her lawyers just started spouting about how much they support the troops. That was about the only good thing about that day. Come on in," he told her as he opened the sliding door by the kitchen.

"Thanks," she said as he held the door.

Grabbing two mugs a cabinet, he poured them both a cup of coffee. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Almond milk?"

"Not really a staple in the Deeks household."

"Regular milk is fine."

"It's also all I have," he mumbled as he opened the fridge and pulled out a glass bottle of milk. "Farm fresh. Free-range cows, no antibiotics, no additives. Straight from the cow two days ago."

Monty came ambling into the kitchen. "Monty, this is Kensi. Kensi, that's Monty."

"Hello Monty." Kensi put her coffee on the breakfast bar and bent down to pet his dog. That reaction was a plus for Agent Blye in Deeks's eyes. "He's a cutie," she said, rubbing his ears.

"I think he considers himself more manly and handsome, just like his Daddy - but hey." Deeks wanted to see his fancy security cameras. "I need to hit the head. Monty, keep Agent Blye entertained but make sure she doesn't go rifling around in our things. Can't let her find your secret stash of chewy treats."

Deeks jogged to his office upstairs. A quick look of the security camera feeds found Agent Blye's SUV parked just across the PCH. Inside, a man with headphones was sitting, looking rather uncomfortable to Deeks, in the back seat. Deeks printed a screencap and returned to his guest.

Kensi was sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen area sipping her coffee. Monty was looking just a little too comfortable resting at her feet. "I'm making egg white omelets with grilled vegetables," he told her as he returned to the kitchen. Slapping the picture of her SUV on the marble countertop in front of her, he continued, "Should I make Dr. Getz's to go or does he want to come in and make this a more festive breakfast gathering? At least I think that's Dr. Getz. He had a bit of a beard in his file photo. "

She looked at him a sighed. "I'll have to call him," she said as she pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket.

"I'm sure Dr. Getz heard. Unless your button cam isn't working," Deeks pointed to her henley top as he opened his refrigerator and took out a carton of liquid egg whites.

"You saw that," Kensi said incredulous. "How did you see that?" The security gate bell rang, interrupting her.

Deeks buzzed Dr. Getz in and made his way to the front door. "Naval Intelligence tried those button cams a few years ago. When you have a shiny button, I think our tech whiz called them pearlized, the camera doesn't really stay put so you have to use a plain button. It's not a problem unless all the other buttons are shiny. The top button you have buttoned didn't pick up the sun the way the others did when we were walking up the beach." Deeks opened the front door and let his guest in. "Dr. Getz, welcome to my humble home."

"Hi," Dr. Getz said kindly. "You can call me Nate and for the record, I know who Riggs and Murtaugh are."

"Oh thank God, I was beginning to wonder if you NCIS Agents were all raised in a biodome. I'm Deeks," he said, extending his hand. Unlike Agent Blye two days ago, Nate shook his hand. "Come, meet Monty. Of course, you know Kensi," he joked as they returned to the kitchen.

"Nate," she said dryly. She looked at Deeks. "You really recognized the button."

"I really recognized the button. Never spy on a spy unless you know what kind of cool toys they play with," Deeks told them as he returned to making breakfast.

Monty walked over to Nate, gave him a quick sniff and returned to the chair by Kensi. "Nice dog. What is he?" Nate asked.

"A Sumagip Aso," Deeks answered.

"I'm not familiar with that breed," Nate said.

"It is Filipino for rescue dog," Deeks said with a smile. "I use it as a test. Some of the frauds on the beach or at the dog park like to nod like they're familiar with the breed." He started pouring the egg whites into the middle griddle of his stove. He thought he had just enough to feed everyone.

"Do you lie to everyone?" Kensi asked as her phone chimed.

"No, but doing what you all think I do, and usually doing it alone, I like sizing people up. Helps keep me alive."

"We just got your file," Kensi said. "Your real personnel file."

"And my cover name is?"

"Another test."

"If you want to talk to me about my work while I'm making you breakfast, Kensi, humor me."

He watched her flip through her phone. "Your code name is Norrin? Really? What, they wouldn't like you use Radd?"

"The Silver Surfer. Cool," Nate added.

"So let me get this straight," Deeks pulled open the broiler of his oven and pulled out a tray of vegetables. He put them in just before he started surfing and they were slow grilled to perfection. Of course now he'd have to figure something else out for lunch. "You know Noah Hunter and Norrin Radd but not Riggs and Murtaugh. You are a fascinating woman, Agent Blye."

"This is a very nice house, Deeks," Nate said changing the topic. "Does your wife come from money?"

"No wife and no money. Just an awesome house. And I'm sure you were able to get the public records for the sale even when you were investigating me as a JAG lawyer."

"You got a buy on the house," Nate told him.

"Late 2008 was an excellent time to be house shopping. Probably half of the properties I looked at were in foreclosure. This place was a part of a divorce settlement and the mortgage was so far underwater that Jacques Cousteau couldn't even help. Add in that it is the smallest house on the beach in all of Malibu at thirty by ninety. It is perfect for me."

"You couldn't come close to buying this on a Commander's salary, so if you don't have money," Nate shrugged his shoulders, almost embarrassed to ask, "how did you afford it?"

Deeks started to spread the vegetables on the omelets. "The Iranians pay really well for nuclear secrets."

"Excuse me?" Kensi said.

He smiled at her, "Just seeing if you were paying attention. Julian paid for the house."

"I'll bite," Nate said, "who's Julian?"

"Tropical Storm Kammuri in the summer of 2008. It was also called Tropical Storm Julian. I spent the end of 2007 and the first half of 2008 in an undisclosed location. It was cold, miserable and no place I'd ever recommend for a visit. I got back home and was living in my 400 square foot dump of an apartment in Manhattan Beach. I had three months leave. A buddy of mine, TJ, is a SEAL - we've worked a bunch of operations together. He's from old shipping money from Galveston. He was on leave too and wanted to fly to Macau to surf in what was supposed to be a typhoon."

"You went what, seven thousand miles, to surf?"

"TJ and I were bringing someone to Gitmo once and there was a Tropical Storm, Beryl or something, off North Carolina. ZNN was showing the surf in the Outer Banks as part of their coverage and it was ridiculous. TJ and I made a pact that we'd surf something like that if we ever got a chance. Three weeks into twelve weeks off - it sounded awesome." Deeks pulled out three plates from a cabinet. He took the omelets from the griddle, folded them and served his guests. "MGM just opened a casino in Macau. We got rooms really cheap because of the storm and the fact that the hotel was new. Got there, rented surfboards and for two days nearly got ourselves killed. I've surfed everywhere - here, Gitmo, Uruguay, Bali, Morocco, Ireland, Spain, Kamchatka in Russia - and Macau was, by far, the most fun I ever had. It was awesome. And yes Kensi, I went seven thousand miles to surf."

"So how does that pay for the house?" Nate asked as Deeks poured him a cup of coffee. He also put out some ketchup and salsa in case NCIS liked their eggs spicy.

Hopping up one of the kitchen counters just across from the breakfast bar, Deeks started eating his breakfast and continued his story. "The region's security forces finally closed the beach for safety sake. TJ and I ate some nice casino food, slept and saw some Chinese pop band butcher Madonna's best of the 90's hits in the casino's main concert hall. Around midnight local time, the hotel set up these poker, blackjack and baccarat tournaments since we weren't allowed off the property because of the storm. TJ's a poker man, I like blackjack. TJ spotted me a thousand for the buy in. We've gambled together before and have one rule. Lose three straight hands, you're done."

"Everyone has a system," Nate said.

"They do. Mine was on fire that day. I didn't lose my second hand consecutive hand for nearly nine hours. The floor manager changed dealers twice but I was on a roll. TJ was out early compared to me but he did just fine, too. When he stopped by, I gave him his money back. He went to drink in the bar, then he went to bed, then he got a massage."

"This is really good," Kensi said pointing to her food. "So you kept winning."

"Winning and putting money aside. That's my other system. Every half-hour, cut my winnings in half and take that money off the table. Anyway, I had more two-straight losses as day went on but never three straight. And I never lost three straight."

"You walked away?" Nate was stunned. "And Kensi's right, this is good."

"Short order cook in college. And yes, I walked away. When I'm not in the water or just out of the water, I always have on my watch," Deeks held up his arm, showing his guests an Oris dive watch. "And there is a timer in the watch. No matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing, the watch alarm vibrates at midnight, LA time."

"The watch alarm went off."

"It did. Usually, it reminds me that no matter where I am in the world, what I'm doing and what's going on, I am from this place. LA is my true north. That day, it was a reminder that in Los Angeles I drove an '84 Jeep, had dump of a studio apartment and that watch, which was a gift from my Mom's old boss after he first saw me in my dress whites, and cost about two thousand dollars, was probably one of the most expensive new thing I ever owned. So Cinderfella took his winnings and left the ball at midnight. Of course, it was like three in the afternoon in Macau."

"If you don't mind me asking," Kensi inquired.

"It is in my service record since I was investigated a hundred ways to Sunday to make sure this wasn't some payoff from the Chinese government. After taxes it was just over three quarters of a million. TJ and I got comped much better rooms - he won nearly a hundred thou himself - and spent our final two days there surfing in the post Tropical Storm South China Seas, seeing a show or two - you really haven't lived until you've seen "Les Miz" in Chinese - and eating the MGM's excellent food. When I got home, found myself a real estate agent and while I was on the East Coast waiting to deploy to another undisclosed location, this place became available. Paid cash and took a small five year mortgage to furnish the joint. Surprisingly, the furniture for a 400 square foot apartment bought at Ikea or grabbed off the street before the garbage truck took it away looks really small and cheap in a 4,500 square foot house." Deeks smiled, "And before you ask, I've never step foot on a casino floor since."

"Not giving them back their money," Nate noted, "Smart."

"I come from a long line of people who've made bad decisions. I'm trying to break that family tradition." Deeks finished his eggs and took a sip of coffee. "Very long line."

"Why'd you join the Navy?" Nate asked.

"Am I getting my head shrunk? Should I lie down on a couch?"

"Only if you're tired. I'm just confused as to why a self-proclaimed poor kid who grew up to be a lawyer and thinks Los Angeles is his true home and terra firma winds up in the most elite unit of Naval Intelligence."

Deeks jumped down from the counter. Refilling his coffee, and then Nate's and Kensi's, he answered, "I never said I was in the most elite unit of Naval Intel, you did."

"Even if you're not in the mythical NEIT, Naval Intelligence is a long way from Moot Court and an even longer trip from Reseda's Boys and Girls Club."

"My mother died when I was in college. Dad was out of the picture before I was twelve. Scholarships, grants and financial aid, along with a bevy of crummy jobs including working as a short order cook paid for college. I had enough left over from my mother's insurance policy, I thought, to pay for an average law school. Then I got into Pepperdine, which is more than an average law school. And about three times the money I had. Add in books and a new place to live since the woman I was renting a bedroom from died and her kids wanted to sell the house, I needed money. There was a job fair at Pepperdine and I was hoping to get a summer legal gig to at least keep me living indoors for a while."

"The Navy had recruiters there," Nate figured.

"Yes they did. I figured I was going to need about $75K to finish law school, buy books, live indoors and eat. I managed not to have any student loans before that but was going to owe the feds money for twenty years to pay off my final two years of school. The Navy said they'd pay for everything, give me a monthly living stipend and all I'd owe them is seven years of my life. I figured I'd be out of law school just after my 24th birthday, I'd be a free man at 31. A lot better than writing rather large checks into my forties for student loans."

"That all makes sense but how do you wind up as an Intel Officer," Kensi asked. "And you're awfully young to be a commander, Commander."

"What can I tell you? The Navy recognizes talent."

"But your talent obviously isn't being a lawyer," Nate said.

"Law school is different than college. If, say, in the second semester of your second year of law school, you realize you really hate it. You can't really switch majors and you really can't ask for your money back to pay for something new. Plus, it wasn't my money. The Navy was paying. There was a nice guy out of the recruiting office who told me to stick with it, I was probably just a little overwhelmed midway through the second semester and things would be fine."

"But they weren't."

"Look, I went to law school because I think my Mother would have wanted that. She worked for a lawyer who became a judge. She wanted the life being a lawyer could give me and it seemed like a really good idea at the time. But the decisions you make at twenty aren't always the ones that work out. I hated law school by my second year there and really didn't want to be a lawyer. My recruiting officer said give it another year. I didn't but it didn't get better in my third year of law school. Took the bar, showed up to basic two weeks later but told the Navy I wasn't interested in JAG."

"So what," Kensi asked, "they just put you in Intelligence?"

"They sent me through basic training as if I was an 18-year old E-1 to be and not an almost lawyer soon to be officer. Had no problem with it. In fact I liked it. When the Navy realized I was the Great Lakes king of the 18-year olds, they decided to teach me a lesson by sending me out on a mission. I guess they thought one trip into the field and I'd long for a desk job with JAG. Long story short, one of the dozens of jobs I had in college was a bank teller. I got sent to Afghanistan to work with a team that was buying information as someone to handle the money and make sure the Intel Officer was making fiscally wise decisions," Deeks threw air quotes around the last three words. "Winds up he was really bad at negotiating. You can offer a nineteenth generation mountain goat farmer the equivalent of fifty thou and he has no idea what you're talking about. Show up with a cow and three dozen sheep, he's very interested in sharing all he knows. After that, I was in."

"Can't be that easy," Kensi said.

"This is an asymmetrical war we're fighting, Agent Blye," Deeks took his plate to the sink and rinsed it off. "I'm an asymmetrical warrior. The Navy taught me all the skills I need to be an officer but they quickly figured out I can work an operation or an assignment for months at a time with little guidance and supervision. Give me a job and I'm good." Turning back to her, he pointed to his face. "This is not the first thought someone has when the enemy is thinking US Military. Look at your Agent Hanna - not really stunned he's a former SEAL. Callen's background doesn't include military but he could pass for it. Put me in the field looking like this with some narcoterrorists and nobody is thinking 'uh oh, here comes a Navy man.'"

"And NEIT?" Nate asked.

"Urban legend," Deeks lied with ease as he took away both Kensi's and Nate's empty plates. If he didn't get back into the field, he could always run the mess at ONI.

"We've been told otherwise."

"Well, it's kinda hard to be a super, secret, black-ops team if people are chatting it up every five minutes." Deeks refilled their coffee cups. He pulled a juice mix out of the refrigerator - romaine lettuce, kale, celery, chard and fennel which tasted awful but kept his healing insides working properly - and all but held his nose as he drank a quarter of it.

"What about your injury?" Kensi asked. "Admiral Bates was livid that you were touched by any of us."

Probably not you, Deeks thought, but he kept that to himself. "The mission was cursed from the day it started. Asset wound up dead, his wife and daughter were in a lot of danger. The Marine detailed with extracting the asset's widow and daughter got his foot blown off by a roadside IED going to Camp Leatherneck. I filled in, got hurt and got the family out with the help of a Marine AH-1 Cobra. Some changes were made in the village where the family was living once we were out safely but the mission was a disaster from day one."

"Rather generic account," Nate noted.

"If what happened is in my service record, you'll know. If not, that's all I'm comfortable sharing."

"You're not a trusting person, are you?" Kensi asked.

"And exactly how many people know everything about you, Kensi? Fancy Ivy League education, multilingual. How are you not in the diplomatic corps or the Agency? They like you Ivy League types in Langley yet you're on the West Coast with NCIS."

"Thank you for breakfast, Commander, but I think Nate and I need to return to the office," Kensi told him as she stood.

And he hit a nerve. "It's Deeks."

"Have a good day, Deeks," Kensi said as she and Nate walked to his front door. "You got a cute dog."

"Handsome dog," he said as he watched them leave. Deeks walked over to Monty, who was still on the floor by the chair Kensi just vacated. "Hear that Monty, Kensi thinks you're cute," he said as bent down to rub the dog's ears. Under the breakfast bar, he saw a small listening device. He gave Monty's collar a gentle pull and the dog stood. Deeks got the animal away from the breakfast bar and ran his finger along the collar. There was a small tracking device right by the buckle, which he quickly removed.

Deeks picked up the remote and turned on his TV. It was just a little before ten. He clicked on "Sports Center" and started rinsing his the dishes, leaving the tracking device on top of the breakfast bar. Once he finished his vile juice and loaded the dishwasher, Deeks filled a small Ziplock bag about half way full of water and picked up his cellphone.

"Yes, Deeks," Kensi said as she answered her phone.

"You forgot something when you left."

"Excuse me."

"You dropped something," he told her as he pulled the listening device from under the breakfast bar. "I'm sure the listening device attached to the breakfast bar and tracking device on my dog accidentally fell out of your pockets while you were here. I've got them someplace safe." He opened the Ziplock bag just a little and dropped both devices in. Closing the bag, he placed it in his freezer. "They're completely safe and I'll be sure to return them to you next time we meet."

"Look..."

"No, Kensi. You just bugged a lawyer's home and I'm guessing you may not have the paperwork for that."

"We need to hear from your client."

"And you will when we deem it appropriate. Pull anymore crap like this and I'll FedEx your listening devices to Leon Vance." Deeks hung up. He walked out to the deck and beach shower to start his bug and tracking device sweep.

Deeks sat down with his backpack and his dinner on the patio of Neptune's Net. At ten after four, he had the place largely to himself. He pulled out his Kindle and started reading the Hall of Fame chapter of Bill Simmons's basketball book when he gained a dinner companion. "Kensi, as a lawyer I feel the need to advise you that California has some of the country's most strict stalking laws."

She was sitting across from him. While he had the clam chowder and fish tacos, Kensi had a plate of crab cakes. "You eat here four nights a week."

"Not really nights, late afternoons. Still stalking."

"You charge your meals, you're easy to track."

"I charge my meals because I'm out of the country not using my credit cards for months at a time. While I can charge gym memberships and keep the card active, it is a lot easier to charge everything when I'm home. Still not an excuse to have you following me."

"I read your file. The Afghanistan mission. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. Sam pushing you into the table, holding you down...that had to hurt."

"Nope. Just helped set my mind straight. I thought we were working together. I know better now."

"Look, we got off on the wrong foot. You weren't honest with us and we took that as..."

"I told you everything you needed to know about the case. The fact that I didn't provide a full background on myself does not mean I wasn't honest. And how you and your band of unmerry men reacted to that now has me on my guard. Lessons learned and all that."

"There have been," Kensi searched for the right word, "problematic dealings with both JAG and with sleeper agents involved in this spy ring that caused us to use caution."

"And showing up here is using caution? Who do you have hidden in your Caddy now? What, your watch is the recording device this time?"

"I came alone and I'm not wearing a wire."

"Said every cop with back-up and wearing a wire to every suspect they've ever met."

Kensi sighed. "I am alone. Are you going to be difficult for the rest of the meal?"

"No, I'm going to eat my dinner and then go home."

"I didn't see your Jeep in the lot."

"Walked here."

"You walked here? What that's like six miles from your house?"

"Six point four miles, actually. And I plan on running back. I'm shooting for a time under forty-five minutes, with this," he said as he passed her his backpack.

Kensi nearly dropped the backpack. "What do you have in here?"

"Forty pound weighted vest. I wear that running home."

"Mimics what you might have to carry in the field."

"Smart, Ivy League," he said as he took back the backpack and started digging into his meal.

"Dr. Vadwa and her daughter said you saved them several times during their extraction."

"It wasn't an extraction. It was a complete and utter failure. An extraction means I get them out quietly and without incident. A shootout at Dr. Vadwa's brother-in-law's house, getting blown up by an IED fleeing their village and holding off the local Taliban until the Marines could pick us up - that's what my extraction turned into. My interpreter was killed, I made a lot of enemies for the US military in that small town and oh yeah, got myself good and injured. Complete and utter failure."

"They were waiting for you. It was a trap."

"Which we should have known."

"You kept those women safe."

"And I'm sure a fourteen-year old seeing me gut the man her uncle wanted her to marry while he tried to do the same to me is one of Ameena's less than positive lasting memories of her father's village."

"That man was the leader of the Taliban in..."

"Oh, I knew who he was. Got an earful from the locals about all the things they were going to do to me once they got me because I killed their wonderful leader - a man who at nearly forty was going to marry a girl who would be, what, a freshman in high school here. Mercifully, they were speaking in Pashto dialect I didn't know so I only got the highlights from Dr. Vadwa."

"The file says that area is free of the Taliban."

"Nicely put, you don't mess with my organization." Falling into a reasonable Sean Connery imitation, Deeks paraphrased the actor's "Untouchables" speech. "They send one of yours to the hospital, you send one of theirs to the morgue."

"You're no Frank Malone."

"So you know Noah Hunter and Frank Malone but not Riggs and Murtaugh." Deeks shook his head.

"'Lethal Weapon.'"

"Dr. Getz told you."

"Maybe."

"So why are you really..." Deeks was interrupted by a ringing cell phone. It was Tommy's burner phone ringing in his backpack. "Hold on." Deeks told Kensi as he pulled out the phone. "This is Deeks."

"Where are you, man?" Tommy sounded desperate.

"Out, where are you?"

"They're here."

"Who? And where's here?"

"Four Seasons in Westlake Village."

"And who is there?"

"Wendy's brothers."

"They're at the hotel?" Deeks saw Kensi was paying attention big time.

"I saw them in the lobby."

"Tell me you didn't go to your room."

"Don't tell the Justice Department but I may have hacked my room keycard and it opens every door in the hotel."

"Where are you?"

"Room 324. It's vacant for the night. I may have hacked into the reservation system too."

"I'll be there. I'm bringing NCIS. You're coming in."

"I'll be waiting."

"Don't make a sound until you hear me, got that."

"I'm sorry man."

"We'll be there as fast as we can," Deeks said before disconnecting. Turning his attention to Kensi, he asked, "Wanna give me a lift to the Four Seasons. Tommy wants to come in."

"I'm guessing Tommy is Kim," Kensi said as she stood, taking a bite out of her crab cake before tossing it in the trash.

"Yes, and his not in-laws are there too. He's hiding until we get there." Deeks chugged about half his clam chowder before tossing it. He grabbed his bottle of water and started following Kensi to her car. Agent Blye's stalking wound up having great timing.

Author's notes:

To see Deeks's fictional house, Google Rockefeller Partners Architects, 33rd Street Residence and just put it on the beach.