A/N – for my French reviewer…

"SOP" stands for Standard Operating Procedure and means that there are certain actions that should always be taken in specific situations, such as Eric always checking for cameras in the area of any building the NCIS team is about to breach.

"AFIS" is the Automated Fingerprint Identification System (also referred to as IAFIS) which holds all fingerprint sets collected in the country, and is managed by the FBI.

Gotta love Wikipedia (the online version, not the Kensi one!).

Don't forget! Leave a prompt or suggestion for a future story line or another direction in the current one, I'm always pleased to see if I can work them in!

Thanks to honus47 (and significant other) for once again reviewing and giving great suggestions!

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Chapter 46

Deeks came to the second time around even slower than the first. His entire body was a mass of pain. He moved and realized he must have been lowered a little closer to the ground as he could now stand on tiptoes somewhat easier, which he did, easing the pain in his shoulders. Looking up he found himself staring at Sean's back. The man was fiddling with something on a table that had been added since he was beaten into unconsciousness. His stomach roiled as he watched the man picking up and putting down different instruments. Flashbacks to the last time he was tied up and tortured went through his mind.

"Welcome back Detective." said Sean, not even turning around. The slight rustling Deeks had made was enough to alert him that the man had regained consciousness. He straightened one last knife into a position he was pleased with and then turned to face the dangling man, a riding crop in his hand. He was looking forward to this, he always did. He enjoyed the look of fear and the begging as much as, if not more than, the actual actions he would perform on his victim's body. He was not happy with the detective's spitting on him earlier. He would have to teach the man some manners. He deliberately moved to his right, allowing Deeks his first full view of the items on the table. He watched the man's eyes inventory each instrument and waited for the fear to appear. When a look of what almost seemed like relief passed over his face instead, Sean was stunned. Looking more closely, he saw that his expression was just blank now. He decided he had just imagined it and that the detective was simply trying to mask his fear.

Deeks had scanned the table carefully, looking for the one item that would send him back into a nightmare that was never really all that far from him. Not finding it, he actually did feel relief. He wondered idly what Nate would make of his reaction. Schooling his face into one of blank detachment, he watched Sean frown at him. He decided then and there not to give the man any satisfaction, no matter what this psychopath did to him. He wondered how his team was faring, if they'd found anything that would lead them to him. He was absolutely confident that they would leave no stone unturned in their efforts to find him. He only hoped that, if they didn't find him before it was over, they wouldn't blame themselves. He knew Callen would be the first to take on the guilt, something he had in common with his team leader. Kensi, of course, was never far from his mind. He was actually glad that he hadn't found the time to get that ring and ask her to marry him. That would have made things even worse for her if things went as badly as he feared they would.

Deep in thought, he didn't notice that Sean had approached him, peeved that the detective was not cowering in fear before him. Raising his arm, he whipped the riding crop across Deeks's chest, raising a welt and drawing blood. The man's body flinched but he made no sound, showed no fear. Anger began to rise within him; the detective was denying him the one thing he wanted. Moving around behind him, so he would never see what was coming, Sean again brought the crop down, this time across his back. Again, the detective made no sound even though he was unable to mask the natural reaction of his body. "You will eventually break Detective, they always do." He was stunned again when the man just laughed.

"I've been tortured by better than you, Sean. I didn't break then and I won't break now. You might as well just give it up." he said cheekily, lying through his teeth. The crop came down across his back once more, the pain adding to what he was already feeling. He clenched his teeth and refused to make any sound. The longer he stayed quiet, the more Sean lost his temper and the harder he struck at Deeks until his back and chest were bright red with blood. Deeks felt himself starting to grey out again when Carl entered the room.

"Sean! Stop playing with your food. We have a problem. I thought the boss said he was only a cop; that only NCIS would be looking for him and that LAPD would care less." Carl hurried up to the platform, ignoring Deeks and addressing his partner.

Sean sighed and moved to the table to put down the crop before turning to Carl. "What are you babbling about Carl? He is just a cop, you know that."

Carl had finally registered the state of the detective hanging from the hook and the bloody crop on the table. He felt a little sick to his stomach, not at the fact that the man was injured; after all, he deserved it after breaking his nose. It was more the fact that Sean seemed to be enjoying what he was doing. "What the hell have you been doing to him?" he asked, studying the detective dispassionately.

"You know Timmons asked the boss to make sure that Detective Deeks suffered as much as possible, while still keeping him alive. I've been following orders, what have you been doing? It took you long enough to get your nose fixed up." Carl shrugged.

Deeks listened with interest to see if Carl's information could tell him what was going on in the outside world. He had a feeling it would be about his team, if anyone could put the bad guys into a tail spin, it would be them. Carl responded "My contact at LAPD told me that just about every alphabet agency in the L.A. area is looking for him. DEA, FBI, CIA, NCIS, even Naval Intelligence. Apparently he has friends in all the agencies, friends that are now out scouring L.A. for him. LAPD isn't out of it either, my contact says they can't stand back and let the feds take credit when they find him. They don't want to look bad. How the hell did the boss miss this? What should we do? Do you think we need to move him?"

Deeks mulled over the list Carl had given, mostly with surprise. He knew the CIA would indicate Michelle and Naval Intelligence was probably John. He wondered if the DEA's involvement had anything to do with Talia. He pictured Talia and Kensi in the same room together and hoped they would both come out alive. As for the FBI, he had no clue. He really didn't know anyone at the FBI who would raise a finger to help him. He and the rest of his team had pissed off their fair share of feebies. He tuned back into the conversation.

"Stop worrying Carl, I'm sure the boss knows exactly what he's doing. As for us, we're just going to do what the boss told us to. No one knows who or where we are, so we're not moving him. That would be too risky. This will all be over later today and we'll be out of it."

"You're pretty cocky, aren't you?"

"Yes, Carl, I am cocky when I know what I'm talking about." Sean looked at his watch, seeing it was just about 8 AM. They'd had the detective for just a little less than ten hours, longer than he normally kept his victims, yet he felt very dissatisfied. "It's time to make that call. Once NCIS agrees to release Timmons and fly him out, we'll rid ourselves of Detective Deeks here and no one will be the wiser. They'll never find his body."

Deeks decided now would be a good time to stir the pot, seeing as Carl was still not convinced there was nothing to be concerned about. "I thought your boss was a little smarter than this, boys. I've told you before; there is no way in hell that Timmons gets out of jail in exchange for me. It's just not the way it works. I can also tell you that, no matter what happens to me, my team will never stop looking for you. My team leader is ex CIA and he's a bulldog, he'll never let this go, no matter how long it takes. He'll do anything he has to make sure you two don't get away, if it takes the rest of his life. You'll be looking over your shoulder from now until the day he kills you. The rest of my team includes an ex-Navy Seal and a sniper who can take your eye out at 500 yards. Don't even get me started on my boss. She's got more skills than anyone else I've ever seen or heard of. You guys don't stand a chance." He could tell that these two men actively disliked each other. "Which one of you is going to be the one who makes a deal and rats the other out when they take you down? My bet is on Sean."

Carl looked at Sean suspiciously, at the same time wondering if it was time to just walk away. He knew that Parks would track him down and that what he would do to him, if he found him, and he probably would, would make the detective's current state look like he had just spent a day at the spa. Sean watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was going through his unwanted partner's mind. The man was as transparent as glass. Carl sighed when he came to the undeniable conclusion that he was stuck, at least for now. If they were taken, he would be sure to take any offer that came his way, having no compunction about throwing Sean to the wolves.

Sean looked at his watch again. "Time to make that call." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cellphone that the boss had given him for this purpose. It had a scrambler on it that would prevent NCIS, or anyone else, from tracing the call back to them. He called the NCIS hotline and gave them the information that he had the missing detective and that he wanted to speak to someone in charge. After a short wait, he was connected to a woman with a raspy voice.

"This is Henrietta Lange. I've been informed that you are the ones who have taken Detective Deeks. Exactly what do you expect from us?"

The tension in the boatshed was palpable as the group listened to the conversation. When the call had come in, Eric had immediately been contacted to put a trace on it. When he had indicated that Ops was ready, the call had been transferred. Hetty had requested silence and had put it on speaker.

"We do indeed have your detective, Ms. Lange was it? What we expect from you is as follows. You will release Judge Mitchell Timmons from jail. He will be taken to the closest airport and flown to a non-extradition country. Once we have proof that he has safely landed, we will release Detective Deeks unharmed. Failure to comply will result in the very unpleasant death of said detective."

Kensi looked at Sam and Callen with something akin to triumph. The man had just proven her right. Timmons was somehow behind this. Her triumph was short lived as she realized that NCIS would never comply with their demands which meant that Deeks was unlikely to get out of this alive.

I'm afraid I'll need proof of life, Mr.?" said Hetty.

Sean replied "My name is not important Ms. Lange. You want proof of life, here it is."

He held the phone out to Deeks who just looked at him, refusing to speak.

"I'm afraid your detective is somewhat stubborn, Ms. Lange. Let's see if we can persuade him to give you what you need." Still holding the phone, he picked up the riding crop again and approached the detective. "Last chance Detective." Deeks continued to stay silent. Sean whipped the riding crop across his chest once more, again eliciting nothing but silence from him, the sound electrifying the atmosphere in the boatshed. "You need to talk to your people Detective." He thought quickly. "If you don't, then we move on to another member of your team, maybe the brunette you seem to be so fond of? How do you think she would fare in your current situation?"

Unable to stop himself, Deeks said "You leave her alone! You've got me, you don't need her."

Sean smiled and spoke into the phone again "You have your proof of life. You have two hours to get Judge Timmons out of jail and into the air. If you don't, the detective suffers. Am I understood?"

"Yes, we understand. How will we get in touch with you to let you know when Timmons is in the air?"

"You don't. I'll reach out to you after two hours, which starts now. Time is wasting Ms. Lange; this is not the time to dawdle." Sean hung up the phone and smiled at Deeks. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Deeks glared at him and refused to respond. Sean smiled and said "We have two hours Detective. However shall we spend them?" He turned towards the table and began to peruse the instruments there; finally selecting a small sharp edged knife that he knew from experience inflicted the most pain without ending the victim's life. "Let's pick up where we left off, shall we?" as he slowly sliced Deeks chest. It took 17 slow, agonizing cuts before the detective passed out again.

Sean really loved this and thought he would really enjoy the next round. He walked over to his table and picked up a thick walled rubber hose about 3' long. He walked over to Deeks and slapped him awake, telling him "This hose won't break any bones, but it hurts like hell when it hits you. Let's see how you like it." He commenced hitting the detective with it, all over his body. Deeks vision was once again starting to go and he almost welcomed the blackness enveloping him. At least it would stop the pain. The last thought in his head, before he succumbed to unconsciousness, was of Kensi. Kens, he said in his head, it looks like I may have to break my promise. I don't think I can take too much more of this. The thought faded away as the darkness took him.

Sean saw his detective pass out again and walked around him, admiring all the bruises on his body. He took in all the damage he had caused and felt good about it; although the detective had yet to give him the fear he wanted to see or to beg for his life. Eye swollen shut, possible broken ribs, all manner and sizes of cuts all over his body, crop welts and vivid bruises. As he started to turn away, he noticed a spray of blood when the detective coughed. Ahh, he thought. Broken rib for sure and it may have punctured a lung. He will need to keep an eye on him now so he doesn't drown on blood. We can't have him dying before it's time, he thought.

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Back at the boatshed, Callen called up to Ops. "Tell me you got a location from that Eric!"

"I'm sorry Callen. The phone had a scrambler on it. There's no way we could trace it."

Callen slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone there. "We can't just leave him there Hetty. We need to do something, anything!"

"You know as well as I do, Mr. Callen, that neither NCIS, nor any other agency, will release a prisoner in exchange for one of their own. The only thing we can hope for is to stall them until we find Mr. Deeks ourselves. Our hands are tied." Hetty understood her senior agent's frustration. She was close to pulling in any favors she still had to get Timmons released. Hell, she'd even pay for the flight to whatever country they wanted out of her own pocket. Timmons was a greedy bastard but he wasn't a violent criminal, what would it harm anyone to let him go? She sighed, knowing full well it wasn't the harm Timmons might do, but the precedent it would set. The next time it might not be someone like Timmons. She opened her mouth to say just that when Agent Leary's phone rang.

Recognizing the caller id, the FBI agent picked it up immediately and, once again, moved away from the group. When she was done, she hurried back with a smile on her face. "One of our CI's may have come through for us. Robinson and McGonagle were seen entering an abandoned meat packing plant in North L.A. several times over the past few days. He says he's not seen any sign of your man, but these guys aren't shadowing them 24/7, especially at night. The company is Northern L.A. Meat Packing on Figueroa."

Eric popped up on the plasma and said "That name could work what we've been able to pull so far from the footage of the truck that dropped off the crate at the warehouse. The company went out of business six months ago, there's no reason why any truck should still be active and making any deliveries. Nell and I are thinking they wrapped a truck in the logo so it wouldn't seem suspicious. I'm sending the address to your smart phones!" No one asked how Eric and Nell had known the FBI agent had just received that information, how they did was what made them the best at their jobs. Everyone's phone pinged with the address.

"Mr. Beale, would you please contact LAPD and let them know where we think Mr. Deeks is? Tell them to contact me and we will coordinate our efforts. The last thing we need to do is be shooting at each other!" said Hetty.

Nell was the one who responded "I'll call right now Hetty. I'm assuming you want us to contact Lt. Bates?" Hetty nodded yes and Nell turned away from the screen to make the call.

Sam reached out and clasped the FBI agent on the shoulder. "Thank you Agent Leary. This is the best news we've had in hours!" For once, interagency cooperation had actually come through. She smiled grimly at Sam, pleased that they might be able to get their man back for them and hopeful that they might be able to take down Robinson and McGonagle, she had long suspected that that team was the one responsible for the trial related deaths so many years ago. She wanted justice for her mentor and friend.

Callen felt hopeful for the first time since they entered that damn warehouse last night. He chanced a look at Kensi who looked like she was about ready to explode and thought to himself how close the two had become over the years. Clearing his thoughts, he said "Let's gear up everyone; we have two hours to find this idiot and get Deeks back." Turning to Admiral Shelton he said "We'll keep you in the loop John."

"Yes, Callen, I know you will, seeing as I'll be with you."

Callen looked to Granger for help. "John, we really can't risk you being out there with us." Granger began.

John interrupted him. "I've seen three tours of duty in country, Owen. I think I can handle a raid on a warehouse in L.A." he stared Granger down who finally accepted that the man was going no matter what. He sighed and nodded at Callen.

"Fine, we'll get you an earwig and a vest. See that you use both." said Callen. John indicated his compliance.

Turning to Michelle, Callen made his second mistake. "Michelle, do you want us to drop you off at Ops so you can watch with Eric and Nell?" The raised eyebrow and the fierce look on her face made him take a step back. He looked at Sam for help only to find his partner staring at him in resignation. He'd been married to this woman long enough to know she would not be left behind. Sam left his partner hanging out to dry.

"Okay, okay! You get an earwig and vest too. Please, try to stay alive, will you, both of you?" He got nods from both Michelle and John. He glanced at Agent Leary and said sarcastically "You got your gear or do you need to borrow some of ours as well?"

"I've got mine in the trunk of my car. I'm ready to go when you are." She smirked back at him, enjoying the interaction between the people in the room. She found herself looking forward to meeting this Detective Deeks; he seemed to elicit intense loyalty.

"Very well, ladies and gentlemen, you have the address, head out! Owen and I will coordinate with LAPD from Ops." said Hetty

"You'll coordinate from Ops Hetty. I'm going with the team." Granger responded, determined not to be left out of the rescue mission. Hetty looked at him appraisingly, hearing something in his voice she hadn't heard in a long time. It would appear that their dear Assistant Director had fallen under Mr. Deeks's spell and was as worried about him as the rest of his teammates. She smiled; she knew only too well how Owen felt.

The whole group left the boatshed and split up into different cars. Hetty headed to the Mission, the rest headed to the meat packing plant where they desperately hoped they would find their friend alive.