Sam pulled the Challenger up to the curb and switched off the engine. He was still slightly pissed with Hetty for punishing the team for their earlier squabbling but he could at least appreciate the logic behind the partner swap. Their arguments should have been long resolved by now but for some reason they had all let it fester and continued to make digs at each other. Maybe time with Kensi would be good for them both, give them a chance to clear the air. Besides which, Sam figured that Callen deserved to be partnered with Deeks for a while. The two could annoy the hell out of each other instead of annoying the hell out of him. He smiled as he climbed out of the car and shut the door.

'What's so funny?' Kensi asked, joining Sam as they walked towards the VA medical centre.

'Just thinking this partner swap is not so bad after all - at least not for us.'

'Ah,' Kensi nodded her head, a smile also pulling across her lips. The pair flashed their badges to an LAPD patrol man and ducked under the cordon. 'You thinking Callen and Deeks won't get on so great?'

'Callen's not the most talkative and Deeks just doesn't shut up. I bet within two hours Callen will've ditched Deeks and gone off on his own.'

Kensi smiled. 'Deeks will talk non-stop I guarantee. I won't take that bet. D'you really think Callen will last that long?'

'Guess it depends on what leads they get from Homeland Security, if they give up anything of real use. G's impatient and building relationships with other agencies isn't exactly his strong suit. I can just see him disappearing on Deeks.'

Kensi surveyed the entrance of the medical centre. 'Doesn't look like the smoke grenades caused much damage,'

They walked through the automatic doors which were now switched to open. To their right was a large reception desk with papers strewn across the top and a few chairs haphazardly scattered, lying where they had fallen in the panic. The left of the entrance was a cafeteria, similarly abandoned with chairs were upturned, bags left where they had fallen, coffees and burgers now cold. Kensi walked towards the dining area and bent down to retrieve a discarded crutch.

'So these guys want to make a point about how America has let them down, so they target a place that is trying their best to help ex-soldiers start a new life?'

'Yeah, I know. That looks like Steadman, let's see what she knows about Lyneham. '

Kensi and Sam walked over to the manager of the VA centre, a tall woman in her mid fifties by the name of Sandra Steadman. Nell and Eric had provided some basic information on her; she had worked at the centre for fifteen years, first starting as Head of Psychiatric Care before assuming responsibility for the entire centre, a position which she had held for the past four years. Prior to that she had been a military physician, based in a variety of locations ranging from Iraq, Afghanistan, Germany and the Naval Medical Centre in Portsmouth, Virginia. Her record was impeccable and she had sacrificed the chance to have her own family in favour of a military career. She was in the company of a serious looking male, who was introduced as Scott Jenkins, her successor in Psychiatric care.

'Has anyone claimed responsibility for this attack?' Sandra Steadman asked directly, once introductions had been completed.

'Not yet no, but we are following up on a few leads and have a person of interest we'd like to talk to you both about.' Sam replied.

'Certainly,' Sandra nodded. 'Obviously the privacy of all the vets here takes priority. If we were to break any confidentialities it would put our reputation back by decades. Please follow me and I'll see what we can do to assist.'

Sandra smiled tightly at the two agents and turned, walking a short way to an office just left of the reception area.

'I like to be close to staff and veterans alike,' she explained, opening the door wide and allowing her visitors in first. 'Please take a seat. On directions from Homeland Security - and in line with our own security protocols - one of our first tasks was to check the integrity of databases, records of the veterans, their families and all our staff. Nothing has been taken and there is no evidence of any attempt to do so.'

'We're at a loss to think why we would be attacked in such a way.' Scott continued. 'We're here to help, to counsel and assist all those who come to us with difficulties adjusting to civilian life.'

'You also deal with those suffering from PTSD?' Sam asked, glancing quickly at Kensi who kept her attention solely on Sandra.

'Yes,' Scott continued. 'And we provide counselling for those who have suffered sexual trauma, bereavement, drug and alcohol abuse. That extends to families too. If this was a proper terror attack by ISIS, I know we would not be standing here now. There would be at least fifty dead and much more destruction...'

'Look we're working with Homeland Security and we're here to investigate a person of interest seen in the vicinity, a former Marine who suffered PTSD, name of Lyneham. Our records show he dropped off the grid about ten years ago. This is him.' Sam handed two photos to Sandra, one of Lyneham in uniform and another from earlier that morning, a grainy image captured from CCTV.

Scott looked over Sandra's shoulders at the pictures.

'I can't say his face is familiar so I'd say he's not a regular here.' He looked up at the agents. 'We do get a lot of vets who can only ever get as far as the entrance, or only attend one appointment. It can take a lot of courage to admit you need help, and even more to keep returning.'

'I can appreciate that, I was a SEAL. Took me a while to adjust...' Sam left the words floating, willing to vaguely suggest that he too, had sought help. In his own mind it would not be of use to admit that he had used their services. He would leave that to any empathy building conversations he may need to have in the future with Lyneham.

Sandra and Scott looked at Sam, and then across to Kensi who forced herself to relax and her expression to remain neutral.

'Ok,' Sandra tapped at her keyboard. 'There are archived records for Lyneham dating back to 2005-6 and then nothing at all until last week. He dropped in here last Tuesday morning to ask about counselling and was due to attend an initial session - at nine thirty today. Let me see.' Sandra moved her mouse and clicked several times before continuing. 'Yes, the receptionist Connor, booked him in at nine twelve, so your person of interest was here legitimately.'

Both her and Scott looked up at the Federal Agents expectedly.

'From the timings, I take it that Lyneham did not actually attend his session?' Kensi asked.

'That would be correct. The bomb went off a few minutes after his arrival. Most people scattered in panic, others instinctively assumed authoritative roles as though they were still in the military. The whole building was evacuated. I think we'll be pretty busy in the coming weeks.' Scott shook his head and smiled woefully.

'So can you tell us anything about Lyneham?'

Sandra looked back at her screen. 'As I said earlier, his records are confidential and I really can't tell you anything you don't already know. He originally came to us with PTSD and for counselling. The appointment this morning would have been to establish how he is, why he is after help and to suggest a plan to help him.'

'Did he leave an address?' Sam asked.

'No. A number of vets end up homeless, another stigma they have to deal with so we don't press for one.'

'Any indication that Lyneham's homeless?'

'Scott, can you see if Connor is still around?'

Scott exited the office and returned a few minutes later with the receptionist Connor, who was looking rather pale.

'Connor,' Sandra said. 'These agents are from NCIS investigating this morning's events. They have questions about a Joshua Lyneham that you booked in five minutes before the attack.'

'Sure. He was the last person I spoke to before it all went down. I'd say he's living frugally but unsure if he's actually homeless. There was nothing fancy about him, no designer clothes or expensive jewellery. His hair hanging just above his collar, he had slight stubble. He seemed reasonably clean although there was a very slight odour about him, with stained patches under the arms of his T shirt.'

'Wow, that's a great description,' Kensi commented in admiration.

'In our line of work we need to pay attention to everything, clothes, body language, words - as well as what is not said.' Connor explained. 'We have to safeguard ourselves as well as other patients, although maybe it didn't work too well this time.'

'Well, thanks for your help. We might be in touch again.'

'Any time - and for anything else we can help with,' Sandra smiled at Kensi and Sam.

'We're both fine, although I'm pretty sure my usual partner could do with some help in the psychiatry department. He's not a vet though...' Sam returned Sandra's smile as they shook hands.

Sam and Kensi closed the office door behind them and headed back outside. The crowds of onlookers had thinned considerably, as had the number of LAPD uniforms. They walked back to the car both lost in their own thoughts.

'Callen's going to kill you if he finds out what you've said about him.'

'Well he's not going to find out now is he?'

Kensi held her hands up. 'My lips are sealed. We're no closer to finding out any more about Lyneham, let alone actually locating him. If he's homeless then he could be anywhere from Skid Row to the mountains.'

The short walk had taken them back to the curb side and Kensi leaned across the roof of the Challenger to face Sam.

'I know,' Sam opened his car door. 'This just feels like we're clutching at straws. Anyone could've done this. Why focus on just one man?'

'Something's not right. There must be more to Lyneham than we've been told.'

'Well let's hope the wonder twins can dig deeper and track his movements on CCTV. At least then we might have a trail to follow.' Sam pulled out his cell and speed dialled ops.

'Hey Sam,' Nell's answered.

'Nell we got nothing from the VA centre, no address. Were you and Eric able to track Lyneham's movements before or after the attack?'

'Well, after the attack Lyneham took a bus and it looks like he's headed to Palmdale.'

'Damn,' Sam swore. 'He could be prepping for another attack. The Air Force Plant 24 is at Palmdale. They manufacture military aircraft spares, and produce unmanned aircrafts, do maintenance on the F-117 Stealth Fighter. They have visitor attractions too.'

'Thanks Nell,' Kensi said. 'Keep us updated with his movements. And if Eric can give us a little help avoiding those red lights then we might be able to catch him.'

'Sure thing Sam. The bus route is not a quick one so we'll alert the local PD.' Nell signed off.

Sam fired up the Challenger's engine, shared a worried look with Kensi. Lynehan already had a head start and was surrounded by innocent civilians on public transport. If he reached Palmdale and could not be extracted safely there could be another attack, this time with lives lost.