Title: Smoke & Mirrors
Author: DizzyDrea
Summary: Sometimes, things aren't what they seem. And sometimes, they are.
Rating: M
Spoilers: Pretty much anything up to Season 8, plus a tiny, little spoiler for NCIS: LA's Absolution (2.9) and Deliverance (2.10)
Author's Notes: So, Kate died. And I hated that. So I stopped watching. Then I decided to fix it. End of story. Or beginning of story. Whichever.
Disclaimer: NCIS and NCIS: Los Angeles and all its particulars are the property of CBS, Paramount, Donald P. Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Shane Brennan, Shane Brennan Productions, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

Author's Note 1-15-12: I wrote this a while back, and posted it on AO3, but I decided I wanted to post it here as well, since this is where the rest of my NCIS stories are housed. I'd always hated the fact that they killed off Kate, even knowing that Sasha Alexander asked out of the show. I didn't get around to writing the fix I wanted until after NCIS: Los Angeles began airing (this story came together after watching Absolution and Deliverance from Season 2, and to this day I can't tell you why those episodes sparked this idea). So, that being said, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~o~

Prologue

"Leon Vance. What have you got for me?"

"We found the Hummer," the woman at the other end of the line said, getting right to the point. Then she paused. The next part was harder. "And the bodies of two of our missing Marines."

"Damn," the NCIS Director said. "Any sign of the truck or the other two marines?"

"No, sir," she said. "They've been here for a couple of days. They might have been found sooner, but this part of the base…"

"…is mostly deserted. I know," Vance finished for her. "Pendleton isn't the only base that's had to shut down some of its facilities."

"Yes, sir," she said. "They disabled the GPS, as we suspected. Which probably means we have no way to track the truck, or the crates."

"True," he conceded. "But if they're planning to sell the things, there's precious few places—hold on—"

The line went silent as he put the NCIS Special Agent on hold. She stood staring at the two Marines, lying prone next to the missing Hummer. Her ME was preparing to load up the bodies to take them back to San Diego for autopsy while her team fanned out in the warehouse building, looking for clues. She already knew what the autopsy would find. Both men had been shot: double-taps to the chest; center mass, very efficient, very deadly. Very professional. Which mean their prime suspects—the other two Marines on the detail—were probably thieves and killers.

"I'm back," Vance said into her ear. "I need you in Washington. Staff Sergeant Keener was just found in Baltimore. He's dead."

"What?" she almost screeched. Keener was one of the two missing Marines. "How?"

"I don't know the details yet," he said. "The call just came in. Local LEOs found him in his car less than an hour ago and called us."

"Great," she muttered, putting a hand to her forehead. "Three dead Marines and the weapons in the wind."

"That's why I need you in DC," he said. "I'll have a car waiting for you when you land."

"But—" she stuttered.

"Yes?"

"It's just…" she trailed off. How to explain?

"This is your case, Special Agent Halladay," he said. "You know the players and the playing field. I need you here to help the MCRT track down those weapons."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Good," he said. "Get yourself on the first flight out. Let my secretary know the details."

And with that, the line went dead. Special Agent Halladay lowered the phone, staring at it.

She sighed deeply. It wasn't what she'd expected at all. She hadn't been to Washington since…well, she didn't like to think about it. She was fairly certain she knew what kind of reception she'd be facing, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Still orders were orders. She dialed the phone and listened while it rang.

"Ma'am?"

"Theresa," Halladay addressed her secretary, Theresa Martinez, a tiny spitfire of about 50 who was the best office manager she could have asked for. "I need to get on a flight to DC tonight."

"Are you coming back to North Island first?" she asked, unfazed as usual by the sudden change in plans.

"Not if I don't have to," she said. "I need to go home and pack. I'll send Dr Ballmer and the team back with the bodies."

"You'll need a hotel and car while you're there?" Theresa asked.

Halladay could hear her tapping on her keyboard as she asked the questions. Leave it to Theresa to catch the details on the fly. "See if you can get me a room someplace close to the Navy Yard. The Director is sending a car for me, so make sure you let his secretary know when I'm scheduled to arrive."

"Okay, let me see what I can do," Theresa said. "How much longer until you're ready to leave?"

Halladay surveyed the scene around her. Ballmer was loading the bodies into body bags, while the rest of her team were packing up the evidence they'd already bagged. Her Senior Field Agent, Marcus Richter, was still talking to the Marines who'd found the bodies.

"Probably an hour," she said. "Think you can find something before then?"

"No problem," she said. "I'll call you when I have the details set."

"Thanks," Halladay said.

She dropped her phone into her jacket pocket and made her way across the building, joining Richter as he finished his interviews. He was a tall man with skin the color of fine chocolate and close cropped hair. He'd played football at USC before joining the Marines himself, and had been highly recruited by the FBI among other agencies when he'd mustered out. To her never-ending gratitude, he'd settled on NCIS. His height, broad shoulders and penetrating glare were usually enough to intimidate even the most difficult suspect or witness. She noted with some amusement that these particular Marines were no different.

"They say no one's been in these buildings for months," he said in his typical Southern drawl.

They both watched as the two Marines in question moved a short distance away, the man trying to comfort his female companion without overtly breaking more rules than they had already.

"What were they doing down here?" she asked, shifting her attention back to her colleague.

Richter shrugged. "Said they were down here 'looking for something'."

"But you're not buying it."

"Rule #7, Boss: 'Always be specific when you lie'," he said, winking at her. She could see the mirth dance through his chocolate eyes. "Probably lookin' for someplace to hook up. Barracks life can be…inconvenient for young lovers."

"And I suppose you know this from personal experience?" she asked. Getting a grin and shrug in reply, she shifted gears, asking another question. "Think they're involved?"

"Nah," he said. "Wrong place, wrong time."

"Anything else?"

"Nope," he said. "You get something from the Director?"

"Who told you I was talking to the Director?" she asked, peering up at him. At 5' 7", she was hardly short, but he still towered over her, a fact he'd teased her about since the day they'd met.

"Just a guess, but you didn't look happy when you hung up," he said. "So, what's up?"

She sighed. "I'm headed for Washington. They found Keener's body about an hour ago in Baltimore."

"Damn," he said. "You need someone to go with you?"

"Thanks," she said with a smile, "but I need you here. You're in charge until I get back. Follow up as best you can. If I need anything, I'll call."

"You got it," he said. "Lemme go round up the kids and we'll be off."

"Thanks, Richter," she said, laying a hand on his arm as he walked away.

She sighed again as she turned and looked out the wide double doors, running a hand through her long, brown hair. The sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains, but instead of her day being almost over, she had a feeling it was just beginning.

...continued...