Parker Center, Los Angeles

"I was one of the people who helped rescue you."

Deeks' mind seems to freeze at Devereaux's response. He pushes the blanket and ignores it as it drops to the ground. He's had bits and pieces of memory coming back to him for the past few days but nothing- absolutely, nothing- of Devereaux. Out of caution, he takes a beat and glances to Kensi's sleeping form and the exit. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"When Bates finally decided to actually look for you, word had spread to San Diego and I caught wind of it," Devereaux replies. He pulls out his cellphone and taps the screen twice before holding it out towards Deeks. The ex- detective can see a screenshot of an email sent to Devereaux. "I actually met your boss- great woman by the way- after you had been rescued. Kept in contact with ever since."

"Why did you just tell me this from the beginning? Why drag it out?"

Devereaux shrugs and stands, pocketing his cellphone in the process. "Because I knew you wouldn't believe me. It's been hell for you, dude. Plus, I'm an awesome guy. I didn't want you to miss on that." He motions over to the doorway and adds, " I'm going to chat with our FBI boys and see what we can do about leaving here. Need anything?"

"No…I'm fine," Deeks replies, trailing off as Devereaux walks away. Deep down, he doesn't trust the lieutenant but there's a small part of him that feels relief. Kens and I aren't alone on this….for now. He lets his gaze travel from the door back to his sleeping partner where he feels a bit more relief. A pang of guilt hits him at the lengths she had been going the past few days to protect him. Deeks settles back into the couch and feels himself drifting off again, this time his mind drifting back to being interrogated by the White Ghost.

"Cole, Cole …I thought we had an understanding with you working at this company," The White Ghost taunts. Deeks blinks away the blood dripping from his forehead. He's surrounded by men and handcuffed to a chair in a dark room. He's feeling an absolute fear that he didn't see coming when joining the LAPD.

"I'm going to ask you something special- something simple that a piece of crap like you can answer. Where is it?"

"I don't have any idea of what you're talking about."

"Bullshit." The White Ghost backhands Deeks, who lets out a scream in pain. He lifts his chin up towards The White Ghost and coughs out, "Don't know….what….you're…talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Where is it?"

"I can't- "

The White Ghost grabs a handful of Deeks' hair and jerks his head forward. "I have vested everything in this business and everything I have worked for will not fall apart because of you."

The ex-detective jerks awake and sits up as he gathers his bearings. He finds himself alone into the room and with the sunshine still shining brightly into the room, he guesses that he's had to have drifted off for about an hour at the most. Deeks spies Kensi's jacket and moves towards it but stops suddenly when the room door flies open. Kensi rushes in with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. She smiles warmly as she holds out the cup of tea, which Deeks takes hesitantly.

"We caught a break," Kensi announces with a hopeful look in her eye. "Baby, we finally caught a break."

"Wha- what are you talking about?"

"The shooter from the hotel walked into Rampart Station and gave himself up. It's suspicious across the board but we can interview him and get some sort of an answer."

Deeks eyes his partner with disbelief. "What if it's a trap? Assassins who turn themselves usually don't do it because they feel guilty."

"We can take everything he says with a grain of salt. Look, it's not perfect or ideal but it's the first semi- helpful thing that we've gotten since losing Callen, Sam and the Wonder Twins," Kensi counters. She sighs and motions to the door, "I think we need to take the chance."

Five miles from the room they had been held in, Sam and Callen are pushed on to the dusty ground, hand cuffed and blindfolded. Sam feels the rope around his wrist loosen and the blindfold removed. He glances to his left and sees Callen on his knees, rubbing his wrists. Behind him, Sam sees Kavanugh's man pointing a black K- 47 at the men's' back. "Move," he growls in Pashto.

Sam grabs his partner's arms and hoists him onto his feet, holding up a pleading hand towards the man and repeats, "We're going…we're goin…"

Placing an arm around Callen's waist, Sam guides Callen forward, taking note of the surroundings. The landscape is dry, dusty and windy and the men stand at the beginning of a long rocky path descending into a valley. Sam calculates the path to be about two miles before turning around and noting that Kavanaugh's man had disappeared.

"You didn't expect him to watch us wander in the desert to die, did you?" Callen jokes. Sam pushes past the joke and scans his partner's state. " We've got to get moving if we want to make a safe place for the night. You up for the walk?"

"Oh, yes. I feel like I can do ten miles."

The ex-SEAL scowls at his partner. "You done?"

"Yeah," Callen answers flatly. He slides his hand off Sam's shoulder and takes a few halting steps ahead before stopping suddenly. "Maybe not. Give me a sec."

Sam joins his side and takes another anxious scans of their surroundings. His mind quickly jumps back to Hetty and Kavanaugh. "What the hell did Hetty do this?"

"Under duress? I don't know-"

The sound of gravel crunching sends a chill down both men's spine. Callen immediately drops his gaze to one of the rocks near his feet and begins quickly calculating how fast he can use it.

Sam turns first, instinctively ready to protect to his partner at all costs. The source of the sound elicits a gasp and a chuckle in disbelief. Callen's eyes widen and whips around and exclaims, "Granger?"