Hope & Despair

They were shoved through the sliding door of the foul smelling warehouse just as the sun was going down. Callen was ahead of him, with an armed man on either side and his hands tied tightly behind his back. Sam winced as one of his guards pushed him forward with the butt of his automatic rifle.

The warehouse was broken up into a series of rooms that were lit by a few low hanging industrial lamps. Large shipping crates cluttered the first room they entered and as they were guided around them, Sam wondered what had happened to Kensi and Deeks. They were supposed to meet up with them here, but they had never arrived. Then he remembered the gunfire they had heard earlier and he swallowed hard as he pushed the grim thought out of his mind.

He and Callen had been surrounded and taken a few hours ago, and had been kept isolated in a small building just south of the warehouse. He had no idea who had set them up, but he and Callen were sure they were in the hands of foreign operatives, since not one of the men holding them had spoken a word since their capture, not even to one another. Sam was not even sure who the leader was.

Sam almost bumped into Callen when he stopped abruptly. In front of them they saw Deeks tied to one of the steel support posts under a pool of light. He was on his knees, his arms tied behind him at the elbows and wrists, his body hung slightly forward over the floor. He had been stripped to the waist and they could see blood splattered across his chest and his ribs were heavily bruised. As they were pushed forward towards him, a man stepped out of the shadows. He had long silver hair and was dressed in an expensive, dark suit. His hands were gloved in leather and he carried a long riding crop. He had a smile on his face.

"Gentlemen, welcome," he said in an accent Sam thought was Serbian, "Let me introduce you to my associate."

A large, well built man dressed in gray stepped from behind Deeks, grabbed a handful of his hair, pulled him halfway to his feet and then jerked his head back into the light. Deeks had been beaten and his face slashed with the riding crop. He groaned as the large man shoved his head back hard against the post.

"Your friend here has not been very cooperative, as you can see." the Serb said, running the riding crop slowly over Deeks' cheek and then down his chest. With a flick of his wrist, the man whipped the crop across Deeks ribs, lacerating his skin and then repeated the whipping several times, causing Deeks to cry out at the searing pain. Callen yelled and charged, only to be knocked to the floor by one of his guards. Sam struggled to reach the Serb, but the man stopped his beating and smiled again.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he said with a cold laugh, "you have responded exactly as I had hoped."

The Serb turned toward Deeks, lifting his chin and tapping him lightly on the face with the crop.

"Come now, Mr. Deeks, don't you want to greet your friends properly?" the man said warmly.

Deeks opened his swollen eyes and looked towards them and then back at the Serb.

"Sorry, they don't look familiar," he barely whispered.

Sam saw anger flash in the Serb's eyes as he stepped aside to let the man in gray move in front of Deeks. The man put his hand to Deeks' throat, slammed his head back against the post and then slowly choked him until his body went limp. Deeks slid slowly down to the floor. Sam fought to get to him, but was held roughly by his two guards and Callen had been pushed to the floor.

"Don't worry, we haven't killed him," the Serb said coldly, "We have many more surprises in store for Mr. Deeks, and for you. If I get the answer I want, then this can all end quickly, if not, you can expect to watch your friend suffer until I do. Have I made my point, gentlemen?" He ran his gloved hand slowly through Deeks' hair, and then he walked back into the shadows humming softly to himself with the riding crop tucked under his arm.

Callen and Sam were tied to posts across from Deeks and then left alone. In the dim light they both watched him silently. He didn't move and they could only take the word of a sadist with a riding crop, that he was still alive.

...

Callen jolted awake at the sound of Deeks' coughing. He must have dozed off, and he could see Sam had done the same. Deeks coughed again and leaned back against the post. He shivered slightly as he looked at Callen.

"They killed Kensi," Deeks said hoarsely, his voice breaking as tears formed in his eyes and then slowly spilled down his face. His head fell to his chest as he tried to choke back the tears, but Callen could see he was devastated by what he had just told him.

"Are you sure," Sam asked, now fully awake and trying to control his own emotions.

"Deeks," Callen said sharply, "tell us what happened." He had to get him to focus, if they were to get the whole story, but after what Deeks had been through Callen wasn't sure that was possible. He watched as the grief-stricken cop slowly composed himself.

"I jumped out of the car to open the gate, and as I swung it open, they started firing on the car." Deeks began, his voice low and rough. "I yelled for Kensi to get out of there and then took cover and returned fire." Deeks paused as he fought to keep himself under control.

"Kensi backed up, swung the car around and headed back down the road," he said, swallowing hard.

"Bullets were hitting the car and I saw it swerve and then go down the embankment and..." Deeks lowered his head and tried to catch his breath. When he looked up, his face was a mask of anguish.

"The car...exploded," he whispered and then he dropped his head back down and withdrew into himself.

"Deeks," Sam called to him softly, "Look at me, Deeks."

Deeks slowly lifted his head and his eyes looked vacant as he stared at Sam.

"How long after the car went down the embankment did it explode?" Sam asked.

"I don't remember," Deeks said, shaking his head, "Just as I started running towards the gate, somebody hit me from behind and knocked me out."

Sam turned to Callen and said, "She could still be alive, G."

Before they could ask Deeks anymore questions, the Serb walked into the light and stood between them. He had removed his jacket and now his crisp white shirt was brilliant against the background of darkness.

"So, your friend has told you about the death of the woman," he said smiling, "It was unfortunate. We could have had some fun with her." His laugh caused Deeks to raise himself to his knees. His eyes glowed darkly as he stared up at the man and then he spit on the Serb's highly polished shoes.

The Serb's jaw clinched and his smiled turned to a disgusted grimace. With lightning speed he kicked Deeks viciously in the groin. Deeks screamed. Then the man grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head up and brutally slashed him across the face with the crop. As Deeks slowly crumpled to the floor, the Serb turned and walked briskly back into the darkness.

They didn't see him again until morning.

...

The Serb strolled nonchalantly into the space between the captives. He was impeccably dress in a dark gray suit, with a light blue linen shirt. He was humming softly to himself as he looked at each of them, the riding crop ever present in his gloved hand. Behind him stood the large man still dressed in gray, his face impassive. The Serb motioned him towards Deeks, who hadn't moved since last night. The man lifted Deeks all the way to his feet and held him there by one arm. Deeks lifted his head briefly, but his eyes were unfocused. The Serb noticed his stupor, and slapped him sharply across the face.

"Mr. Deeks," the Serb said firmly into his face, "you have a visitor this morning."

"Leave him alone," Callen told him angrily, unable to stop himself and tired of watching the abuse the Serb got such sadistic pleasure from doling out.

The Serb turned to face him, walking slowly up to him with a darkening look on his face.

"I don't like being interrupted Mr. Callen," the man said quietly, "You should know, that it will not be you who suffers if I am displeased, it will be your friends."

He swiftly stepped towards Sam and slashed the riding crop viciously across his cheek, then held the crop to the cut, letting it become wet with Sam's blood. He walked back to Callen and wiped the blood on the front of his shirt.

"Have I made my point, Mr. Callen?" he said softly into Callen's ear. Callen felt his whole body surge with anger as he strained against the ropes that held him. He turned to check on Sam, who was staring malevolently at the Serb, the blood slowly dripping off his chin.

"Now, back to this morning's business, Mr. Deeks," the Serb said enthusiastically, "As I mentioned, you have a visitor. Someone who is quite anxious to meet you."

They all turned their heads as an attractive, well-dressed woman walked up to the Serb and extended her hand. The man kissed it, and turned to present her to Deeks, as if they were at a formal dinner party. The woman had straight black hair that framed her face and long fingernails painted a deep red. As she turned towards Deeks she removed the sunglasses she was wearing, and then examined his whole body as if he were a specimen in a lab. She didn't appear to be the least put off by the bloody wounds and dark bruises that covered his body.

The Serb stepped closer and made the introduction.

"Mr. Deeks, may I introduce my sister-in-law, Jelena Lazik," he said softly smiling at the woman. "Of course, you remember her husband, and my brother, Radovan Lazik? One of you shot and killed him, and all of you were involved in his death."

Deeks stared at the woman and then looked back at the Serb, with a look of shock and dawning comprehension. Then the woman took his face in her hands.

"You ruined my perfectly lovely trip to Paris," she said sweetly, and then raked her long fingernails deeply across Deeks' chest drawing three bloody trails, causing him to gasp at the fiery pain.

"Now," the Serb said, "tell me which one of you shot my brother?"

He was met with silence.

"I have a photo of you, Mr. Deeks," the Serb said slowly, each word spoken more softly as he moved closer and closer to Deeks' face, "It was on my brother's phone. He told me all about you and the woman you worked with. I believe he had her killed with a car bomb." He spoke in a hushed tone as his gloved hand grasped his captive's blond hair and pulled his head towards him until his mouth touched Deeks' ear.

"Your women do not seem to live very long, Mr. Deeks." He whispered the last sentence so only Deeks could hear.

Deeks jerked away and spit directly into the Serb's face. It was his only weapon and his only way to express his utter contempt for this despicable man who had killed Kensi and was surely going to kill them all.

The Serb stumbled backward, his face black with rage. He quickly turned and fled into the darkness. The man in gray hurried after him, but Lazik's wife remained.

"My husband said I would like you, Mr. Deeks," she said, "and I think I do. Not many men can upset Viktor. But, I'm afraid your small triumph will be short lived."

Viktor, the Serb walked slowly back into the light. His face was freshly washed, and he held a twelve-inch dagger in his hand. As he moved towards Deeks he spoke to him in a quiet, venomous voice.

"Shall I tell you what I am going to cut off first, Mr. Deeks?"

As he stepped within reach of Deeks, a bullet slammed into his groin and blood exploded everywhere. The Serb screamed and continued screaming as he collapsed in a pool of blood and urine at Deeks' feet.

"Kensi!" the three partners yelled, almost in unison.

The tactical squad swarmed the room, killing the man in gray and handcuffing Jelena Lazik. Sam and Callen were untied and they quickly rushed to free Deeks, who couldn't stop smiling.

"She's alive," he said, his voice full of emotion and relief, "No one else would take that shot, am I right?"

Callen and Sam smiled and agreed as they cut him loose and gently helped him to his feet. He couldn't stand on his own so they supported him between them.

The three men stood over the Serb as he lay bleeding out on the floor.

"I don't think this is the surprise he had in mind," Sam said grimly, kicking the man's bloody leg out of his way.

"And, I think Kensi made a good point," Callen said, relief flooding his body, "for all of us."

They both looked at Deeks as he stared down at the man who had terrorized him for eighteen hours. He didn't say a word about the Serb, he just looked back at his two partners and said, "Let's go find Kensi." and they turned and helped him walk slowly towards the door.

Then Kensi limped into the room. Her head was bandaged, and her left arm was in a sling, but she was alive and strong enough to make the shot she practiced every day.

She came up to Deeks as he hung limply between Sam and Callen and hugged him to her. His head fell onto her shoulder and his body began shaking as emotion overcame him. Then he lifted his head and kissed her.

"God, Kensi, I thought I'd lost you," he said.

"I'm tougher than I look," she said, smiling, "are you going to be OK?" Her concern growing as she began to survey all of his wounds and anger flashed in her eyes.

"You're alive, Kens," Deeks said with wonder in his voice, "I'm good."

Then the team walked out of the foul smelling warehouse and into the fresh air.