#undercover deeks

***

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 17

“Slow down.”

“I’m not going that fast.”

“You just got out of surgery yesterday, for stab wounds, and I am not letting you tear your stitches on my watch.”

Deeks stopped in the middle of a typical looking hospital corridor, arching his eyebrow at Kensi.

Everything after he fired the last shot in that warehouse was a little hazy. He vaguely remembered firing his weapon, but not who he’d shot, and Kensi bending over him while everything around her blurred and spun. The next thing he knew, he was waking up with a dry throat and the kind of heaviness that only hospital strength meds could create.

Then he’d noticed Kensi by his side with some old magazine and the dull pain throughout his torso. She’d informed him he had a fancy new set of sutures and scars, and hadn’t left his side since then.

“Kensi, this is not the first I’ve been injured or been in the hospital,” he told her patiently. Deep down, he appreciated her concern; he was used to spending his hospital stays alone.

“Deeks, you needed a transfusion,” Kensi said, emphasizing each word as though he might be having difficulty understanding her. “That’s a really bad sign.”

“Last time I ended up in the hospital, I’d been poisoned, and all my boss did was stop in to make sure I wasn’t dead, get a signature for my medical leave, and express just how inconvenient my absence would be.” And Bates didn’t completely hate him.

“That’s awful.” Kensi looked horrified. She had a whole team of people who would probably show up for regular shifts. He wasn’t without friends at LAPD, but they usually weren’t aware of his injuries until after the fact. Or were busy with their own work.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad for me,” he said, then inclined his head. “Well, maybe a little.” They started walking again at a sloth-like pace.

“After what you’ve been through, I think you deserve some comfort.” She shuddered, and her grip tightened on his arm. “I can’t believe everything you’ve been through with this case,” she sighed. “I’ve never worked on anything like it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Please.” She made a self-deprecating sound. “I felt like a rookie out there next to you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he told her honestly. “I threw you a lot of curve balls and you went right along with it. Most people wouldn’t.”

If Kensi planned to protest anymore, she didn’t get the chance since Deeks’ legs decided to give out in that moment. Kensi caught him, bracing her arm under his armpit, keeping him from falling to the ground.

“We better get you back to your room,” she said as they stumbled along.

“He focused on inhaling shallowly through his nose in an attempt to manage the growing pain and weakness. When the finally made it to his room, Kensi carefully, well as carefully as she could, deposited him on the bed, helping him swing his legs onto the mattress.

“I knew it,” he joked in a breathless voice. Kensi paused in the process of untangling his IV.

“Knew what?”

“You couldn’t wait to get my back in bed. Are you going to make me feel better Indiana Jones style?”

“Oh my god—you’re ridiculous,” Kensi gasped, blushing a deep red. “I’m not kissing you while you’re in a hospital bed.”

“But I’m injured.” He fixed Kensi with his best puppy dog look, and after a few seconds, she rolled her eyes, leaning forward.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she told him, though she didn’t look all that annoyed. Cupping his cheek in one hand, she kissed him. At first, it wasn’t much more than a brush of her lips over his, but then she added more pressure. She made a soft noise when he lightly licked her bottom lip, his hand finding a place on the back of her neck.

Deeks had to pull away way too soon, or risk passing out. Head falling back on his pillow, he smiled faintly up at Kensi.

“I feel so much better already,” he said.

***

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 16

Deeks ignored Kensi’s exclamation, swaggering out as though they weren’t in immediate danger and he wasn’t likely to collapse at any moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice you seem a little conflicted,” he said, and the brothers immediately stopped talking.

“This isn’t your concern, Max,” Dimitri told him. “Go back to your girlfriend. We’ll tell you once you’ve decided.

“Or, you could tell me now and then Bella and I can decide how far we want to take this.”

“You’re not in a position to barter,” Paul said through his teeth.

“And you could use all the help you can get. So, either tell me the plan, or we’re figuring our own way out,” Deeks warned, flipping from easygoing to calculating in a second.

Kensi didn’t know what he planned, or who Novikov was, but clearly he was important to Deeks. At any other time, she be impressed by his commitment. Now she hoped it wouldn’t get him killed. Either way, she didn’t intend to leave him behind.

“Or I could just shoot you and be done with all your talk,” Paul threatened. Deeks didn’t show any signs of fear, but Kensi tensed, ready to step in if needed.

“Yeah, who got us out of that warehouse? Your backup is almost gone and if you kill me, you’ll be fending for yourselves soon. I may be annoying as hell, but I’m also pretty damn useful.”

Deeks let that hang in the air, quietly smug, though Kensi noticed his left hand hovering close to his waistband in case he needed to defend himself. Paul’s wright shifted towards Deeks, and Kensi clasped the butt of her gun, sure this was about to get a lot more bloody. Then Dimitri pulled his brother back, regarding Deeks’ with disdain, but a resigned sigh.

“A business partner is arranging for a plane to take us to a safer location,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s a little vague. I’m gonna need—”

Deeks’ sentence was cut short by the door bursting open and shouts of “NCIS!” Kensi spotted Sam and Callen run in before the Kaisers’ two remaining guards charged forward, opening fire.

Kensi saw Deeks drop to the ground just as a bullet flew way too close to her face, and she ducked behind the pallet. She peeked out in time to see Sam exchanging one of the guards and Paul Kaiser. The other guard had hidden behind a piece of machinery. Deeks wasn’t anywhere in sight.

She checked her gun, preparing to pop up when there was a lull in the shooting.

“Well, this is cozy,” Deeks said, sliding in next to her. He had wood splinters in his hair and a half smirk.

“You’re insane,” she hissed, and he shrugged, looking around their barrier.

“You wouldn’t be the first to make that observation,” he told her, crouching next to her again. “You want to me to be the bait?” He nodded in Phillip’s general direction.

“No. Stay down and try not to bleed out,” she ordered, standing before Deeks could object. She aimed and fired three shots, each of them just missing Phillip, who turned and aimed, his bullets hitting the pallet a second after she’d ducked back down again.

Her second round, one of her bullets hit its target; Phillip jerked and fell backwards. Dimitri Kaiser took his place, but before she could even aim again, Deeks had moved in next to her, aimed, and fired. Dimitri grabbed his knee, collapsing to the ground with pained shouts.

In the middle of the room, Callen and Sam were taking custody of Paul, who seemed uninjured.

“See, I told you we didn’t need any backup,” Deeks said breathlessly, leaning heavily against the wall behind them. His jacket bunched up around his side, revealing fresh red blood soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, reaching for him as he slid a few inches lower.

***

“Eric, can you track them?” Sam demanded.

“Kensi’s tracker isn’t coming up. Give me a couple minutes.”

“Dammit, if he gets Kensi killed,” Sam said, breaking off as he shook his head, jaw set. He’d known there was something fishy about Deeks from day one; he should have trusted his gut.

“Hey, easy partner. We’ll get Kensi back and handle Deeks, but we have to stay calm.”

“Right.” Sam drew in a calming breath. Despite how annoying Deeks had been in their short acquaintance, Sam had recognized his skill and even started to respect him. He’d enjoy being the one to cuff Deeks given the chance.

Nodding at the empty room, he said, “Let’s do one more sweep of the building.”

“Guys, I just got Kensi’s tracker back online,” Eric exclaimed. “She’s sending out a message in Morse code. She’s saying…‘I’m si—‘ No, “I’m fine. Wait signal.”

“She wants us to wait for her signal,” Callen interpreted. “Do you think we can trust it? Deeks could have taken her tracker and be luring us in for the kill.”

“Guys, there’s one more word. Twinkie.”

“She’s ok,” Sam sighed in relief. “For the record, I still hate that code word.”

“Where are they headed?” Callen asked

“Coordinates are on your phones,” Nell answered. “And based on the traffic footage, they’re driving a stolen car.”

“Maybe Marty Deeks isn’t a traitor after all,” Sam muttered.

***

“Did you get a response?” Deeks murmured, his head dipped towards Kensi’s.

He’d been beyond impressed when she’d used her tracker to send out a message in Morse code. Unfortunately, that was twenty minutes ago, and they were running out of time.

The secondary location the Kaisers took them too was a much larger and more elaborate complex and clearly their headquarters. Deeks had a distinct sense that the Kaisers wouldn’t have brought them here if they weren’t shaken by losing most of their guards.

Paul and Dimitri stood on the other side of the room, engaged in furious conversation while their two remaining guards hovered nearby. Even without hearing them, they were clearly arguing.

“No,” Kensi whispered back. “Too risky.”

Deeks nodded, leaning against a pallet of drugs ready to be shipped, hoping it looked casual and not like he needed the support to keep standing. There were several chairs available, but that seemed too vulnerable. Plus, he wasn’t sure he could stand up without collapsing. His pain had reached an excruciating level and while his latest round of bandages seemed to be holding up, he felt overheated and vaguely nauseas.

Since abandoning their original plan, he and Kensi had been trying to find a way to isolate the Kaisers. If needed, they could take on the brother plus the two guards, but he’d prefer not to risk it.

He shifted forward slightly, brushing his hair back to cover his next words.

“Can you tell what they’re saying?”

“They’re talking about someone named Novikov. Dimitri wants to call him, Paul doesn’t.”

Deeks straightened at that, instantly recognizing the name of a drug king LAPD had been chasing for longer than the Kaisers.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, quickly recalculating.

“I can’t tell. Paul wants to take a plane…I didn’t catch were,” Kensi answered.

“Alright. New plan.” He pushed off the crate, taking a few extra seconds to find his balance as the world tilted around him

“What are you doing, Max?” Kensi hissed, grabbing at his forearm.

“Oh, probably something incredibly stupid,” he answered, then leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “If this goes south, don’t worry about me. Just run.”

***

***

Ain’t It A Kick in the Head, Part 14

Deeks drew his own weapon, putting a cautioning hand on Kensi’s arm as aimed it towards the main entrance. So far none of the guns were currently pointed at them, but he had a distinct feeling that would change soon.

“Phillip, go check,” Dimitri ordered, jerking his head at one of the guards. He slung a MP5K over his shoulder and slipped out the door.

“Kensi, Deeks, we’re pinned down by three armed gunmen,” Callen’s voice said in Deeks’ ear. Based on the slight tensing of Kensi’s shoulders, she’d heard as well. “Stay where you are.”

“I thought you had good security,” Kensi said, her tone accusatory as she glared at Dimitri and Paul. “I knew we couldn’t trust you.”

“I was just about to say the same of you, Ms. Melendez,” Dimitri growled.

“Seriously. You think we’re responsible for this?,” Deeks retorted. “If I wanted to, I would have done it when we were out in the middle of parking lot and not an enclosed space when all your musclemen are here to guard you.”

Kensi nudged his hip, and he could practically hear her frustration with him. She probably wanted to strangle him at the moment.

“Or, you thought you could torture the information out of me or one my men.”

Deeks laughed, like he wasn’t being held at gun point and a firefight wasn’t raging just outside. “You’ve got and even better imagination than me, Dimitri. Torture’s really not my style.”

“You expect me to believe that on the same night we agree to meet, a meeting you insist must happen quickly, it is a coincidence that we’re ambushed?” Dimitri asked.

Phillip reappeared from a side entrance, distracting Dimitri and Paul long enough for Deeks to find Kensi’s eyes. She lowered her eyebrows in an unspoken question, and he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. He needed her to follow his lead without question. No matter what happened.

“There’s at least two guys out there, armed with rifles. They got Johnny,” Phillip reported breathlessly. He held his left arm protectively against his chest, a trickle of blood visible on his hand. “I couldn’t get a good enough angle on ‘em. It’s like they knew exactly where we’d be.”

Deems silently cursed NCIS as Dimitri turned back to them with a grim smile. “And how do you explain that, Max?”

“I imagine you have a lot of enemies, just like me,” Deeks replied. He spread his arms wide, ignoring the way it tugged at his side in an alarming way. And the fact it left an even wider target area.

“Always an answer. Always so clever.” Stepping closer, Dimitri leaned in his face. “I think you tell nothing but lies.”

“Alright enough,” Paul snapped. “We are wasting time. Phillip, Bates, restrain them. If they resist then kill them.”

Kensi lifted her weapon higher as Phillip and Bates moved towards them, and he knew she wouldn’t just stand by if he didn’t do something fast.

“Woah, hold on. There’s no need to kill anybody. I swear to you, I don’t know who those men are or how they found us, but it wasn’t me and it wasn’t Bella. We have nothing to gain by killing you,” he said, using every ounce of persuasion he possessed. He held his hands higher, then reached out, slowly pushing Kensi’s gun downward.

She gave him a confused, then vaguely betrayed look. He nodded again, hoping she understood.

“So I’m just supposed to believe you because you give me your word?”

“No, because we’re going to help you get out of here without getting shot.” He’d noticed he’d stopped hearing Sam and Callen’s voices a couple of minutes ago, so he figured something had happened to the communication devices on their end. He hoped they’d understand him going off-script. “Send another two of your men to distract and take care of the intruders. I’m sure you have several alternate exits we can use to escape.”

“I suppose you want us to let you keep your weapons,” Paul guessed.

“You can try to take mine,” Kensi said dangerously.

“It would be ideal,” Deeks agreed. He offered his hand to Dimitri, staring back into the man’s cool gaze. “We can waste time arguing, or we can get the hell out of here before whoever those guys are shoot through the rest of your guards and break in here.”

***

“Kensi, Deeks, do you copy?” Sam asked for the second time, running as he spoke. He landed behind a parked car just as Callen stopped shooting. They’d already taken out four men, and one remained.

“Kensi!” he hissed again.

He poked his head around the car, spotting the last guy trying to move closer, and he took advantage, shooting him in the chest. As he sank down to the ground, Sam stayed in place just in case more men appeared.

After a minute, he stood and called out, “Clear!” loud enough for Callen to hear.

“Clear.” Callen met him halfway. “Did you hear anything from Kensi or Deeks?”

“No. They stopped responding five minutes ago.”

“Well, could be they didn’t have a chance without alerting someone,” Callen said.

“Kensi would have found a way,” Sam disagreed, and Callen nodded grimly.

“Yeah, I know. Let’s go save those two idiots.”

They approached the warehouse with practiced ease, Sam taking the lead. He shot through the metal lock, and Callen yanked the door open, following after him, and pivoting to the right as Sam went left.

They worked their way through building until they came to a side room, which held a large pallet and some machinery. Sam slowly checked the perimeter of the room, including a smaller closet of some sort.

“Unless there’s some secret room we haven’t found, they’re not here,” Callen said.

“There’s no sign of a struggle,” Sam added, examining the packet of drugs Kensi had obviously tested. “Kensi wouldn’t have gone without a fight.”

“Maybe Deeks made a bargain to keep them both alive. He knows these guys pretty well.”

“Or maybe he sold Kensi out.” Sam gestured to the empty room. “Think about it. We lose contact with them, there’s just enough gunmen to keep us busy, and by the time we get in here, they’re gone. It’s awfully convenient.”

“You really think he’s a dirty cop?” Callen asked. He sounded uncertain, even bothered by thought.

Sam could understand why. Deeks had been annoying, but they’d liked him enough, and up until now, thought him a solid and honest officer.

“If he is, he’s going to regret ever having messed with this team,” Sam promised.

***

***

After a fairly long phone call, Kensi Blye returned to the bedroom with a pinched expression.

“Apparently you and my team are going to LAPD for a meeting with your boss,” she informed him.

“You got reamed out, huh?” he guessed. She rolled her eyes.

“No. My boss isn’t happy we didn’t realize there was an open and ongoing investigation, but I think she’s more annoyed with your supervisor.”

“Ah, Roger Bates. Yeah, he kind of hates you guys, so I’d be careful what you say.”

“Fantastic.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, inadvertently revealing a healthy amount of cleavage. Deeks cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow, and she hastily dropped her arms, cheeks turning an amazingly dusky shade of red.

“I need pants,” she declared, turning abruptly. “And a bucket of coffee.”

“I’ll take a vanilla latte,” he called after her. “Hold the whip cream.”

***

A few hours later, Deeks waited outside Roger Bates’ office, slouched against the wall. He’d already received his own call from Bates, who had some very choice and not child friendly words to say about NCIS and Kensi Blye’s team. After assuring that the case hadn’t been compromised, calmed down slightly.

“Right through here, Agents,” Bates’ secretary said, ushering Kensi, now dressed in jeans and a coral colored t-shirt, and two men into the outer room. He caught her eyes and winked.

“Agent Blye.”

“Detective Deeks,” she responded, her pitch dropping just a touch. Now that was interesting. “These are my colleagues, Agents Sam Hanna and G. Callen.”

“Nice to meet you. Can I interest you in a cup of coffee? It’s terrible, but it helps to fill any awkward silences,” Deeks said. Agent Callen gave him an odd look, shaking his head.

“I think we’re good.”

“Alrighty.”

“You’re telling me you’re really a cop?” Agent Hanna asked, looking Deeks up and down with a perplexed expression.

“Yep,” Deeks confirmed with a knowing grin. “He tipped his chin up at him. “Detective Martin A. Deeks, undercover division at your service.”

“They don’t have a dress code?”

“Not really. The department understands that undercover work requires a certain amount of leeway, even eccentricity if you will.”

“I guess it would take a special sort to dress up in a Jack Dawson costume every night for weeks at a time,” Agent Callen commented. “Kensi said you played the roll very convincingly.”

“Oh my god, don’t listen to a word they say,” she groaned, glaring at them. “They’re a couple of idiots.”

Before Deeks could same something in return, Roger Bates barreled into the office, greeting the three agents with the barest of nods when they introduced themselves.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said, impatiently inviting them into the office. “So, why don’t you tell me what brought you in to nearly blow my detective’s cover?”

“We had information that linked him to a murder we’re investigating,” Callen shared, pausing expectantly. When Bates didn’t take the hint, he added, “Just to give you a forewarning, our boss, Hetty Lange, will likely be recommending NCIS take lead on this case.”

“And she can take that suggestion and shove it,” Bates said, unmoved.

Deeks saw Kensi’s brows raise in surprise. He’d guess that Bates was a revelation for the whole team.

“Our team is specially trained for this kind of situation. Can you say the same?” Sam asked, his smile ever so slightly condescending.

“Deeks is the bane of my existence, but he’s also damn good at undercover work,” Roger Bates declared, looking supremely annoyed at having to make such a statement. “Which of you fellas think you could fit in at a dance club like that?”

Kensi snorted, immediately covering her mouth, muttering an apology under her breath. Deeks concealed a grin at her slip.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me,” Deeks joked. “Anyway, I’ve been investigating a possible money laundering scheme. It’s important, but probably not enough to get a federal agency involved.”

“We take financial crimes very seriously,” Agent Hanna said.

“Well, in that case, I suggest you buy some tear-away pants and find a good waxer,” Deeks said brightly, settling back for what would likely be a very entertaining meeting.

***

“Well, that was interesting,” Deeks commented, strolling out Bates’ office with Kensi by his side. “Your boss is an extremely reasonable woman.”

“Gloating is a very unattractive quality,” she grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be bitter, Agent Blye. Just because your Miss Lang agreed to give LAPD lead on the case doesn’t mean we can’t be civil.”

“Right. You’re already causing trouble.”

“How? I have done nothing but be an absolute delight,” Deeks objected with feigned shock.

“Like you don’t know. I’m talking about the winking, and suggestive comments, the looks,” she rattled off, leaning towards him.

“So, what you’re saying is that you were watching me.”

“Oh no, don’t try to turn this around on me.”

He turned so he faced her, placing a hand on his hip as she stared at him with a furious expression. It was kind of cute.

“Do you want to talk about what happened last night? You know, with the whole making out on my couch thing,” he clarified. “I mean, since we will be working together, it seems like we should be completely honest and open with each other.”

“That was just to keep my cover and don’t you dare think of opening anything in front of me,” she said.

“What if I offered to give you a private show?”

To his surprise, she stilled, eyes flickering with interest before she caught herself, and huffed out a forced laugh.

“Right. In that case you’d be paying me.”

***

Deeks was not ok. He’d convinced himself that a couple of pain pills would get him through the worst of the pain, but every step felt like he was being stabbed all over again. He’d been through worse in the past—a gunshot wound to the chest and a concussion that lead to days of vomiting and headaches came to mine—but not by much.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, Deeks had gotten pretty hood at blocking out pain and faking it. Even though he felt the tug and pull of his wounds and the unpleasant sensation of blood seeping into fresh bandages, his face showed nothing except a vague smugness as he and Kensi stopped in front of a yet another warehouse.

He was really getting sick of warehouses. On his next undercover job, he’d ask for something with a minimal number of concrete buildings. Maybe a nice little jaunt as Artie as a palate cleanser.

“So predictable,” he muttered, and Kensi shot him a confused look. She’d gone with another pantsuit, the suitcase containing their payment completing the look.

“The venue. It’s either always an abandoned warehouse or some dodgy looking place. Rarely ever a restaurant or mansion. Though there was this one time with a Russian, but I try not to think about that job.”

“Are you ok?” Kensi asked very seriously. She went so far as to touch his arm, her Bella facade vanishing completely.

“Yeah.” It was as much to convince himself as her. Though she didn’t look very convinced. He shook off the pain induced chatter just as a guy in a muscle shirt opened the door.

He’d made the concession to have Agents Hanna and Callen nearby as backup and the use of their communication system. It didn’t sit well to have players he wasn’t all that familiar with getting involved. It was part of the reason he’d insisted on only working with Kensi. Now though with his injuries, he couldn’t chance leaving Kensi to fend for herself. Not to mention, ruin an operation with months of work devoted to it.

The guard patted them both down, but didn’t confiscate either of their weapons. When he was done, he nodded and lead them through a several storage rooms that only contained the remnants of former machinery and packaging materials.

“Classy digs,” Deeks commented for Hanna and Callen’s benefit, sauntering past the man, while quickly scanning his surroundings. “Could use a little redecorating though.”

“Charming, Mr. Gentry,” Dimitri Kaiser greeted them, unsmiling as he walked into the room along with two of his bodyguards. “Did you bring the amount we discussed?”

“What, no smalltalk?” Deeks lifted a hand, ignoring the accompanying painful tug in his side.

“Unlike you, I’m a busy man.”

“Ok, then show us the product, I’ll check it for quality, and then we’ll be on our way,” Deeks said. Dimitri’s lips tightened briefly, but he inclined his head after a moment, leading Deeks and Kensi further inside the building.

Every couple of steps, Kensi’s arm brushed against his, and with that brief contact, he could feel the tension rolling off of her. He nudged her elbow lightly, waiting until she caught his eye, and nodded once, hopefully reassuring her. She took a visible breath, and he saw her shoulders relax ever so slightly.

They stopped again once they reached the very back of the warehouse. This room was filled with pallets, machinery, and lacking materials, but Deeks knew that none of the drugs were actually processed here. It was just another stopping point among many. Assuming that everything went according to plan, they’d be able use the Kaiser’s to find the original source. At the very least, they’d be off the streets.

There were a few more men standing by along with Paul Kaiser. Deeks nodded each of their positions, ignoring the sudden swooping of his stomach and clammy feeling on the back of his neck.

Taking a brick off the top of a stack, Dimitri handed it to Deeks. His hand shook ever so slightly as he took it, but enough that Deeks wasn’t sure he could conceal it with Dimitri watching his every move. He wordlessly handed it over to Kensi, and whether or not she understood the reason behind it, she produced a knife from her waistband and slit open the package with practiced ease.

Underneath his growing nausea, he felt a note of admiration as she took out a testing kit and calmly tested a small sample. The next five minutes felt like and eternity, but finally Kensi held a strip up, addressing Deeks.

“It’s pure.”

“As if there was any question,” Dimitri said with the slightest of smiles. “Now, show me the money.”

Before Deeks or Kensi could speak, the distinct rapport of gunfire came from outside.

“Crap,” Deeks hissed as everyone in the room reached for their weapons.

***

***

What was supposed to be a three day job, had turned into two weeks. On Deeks’ second day with the Mason’s ring, they ran into an issue with one stage of the transportation plan. Which meant that most of the victims were still in a location Deeks didn’t have access to.

In that time, Deeks had been shown around the “facilities” where Mason kept the trafficking victims, in a secluded part of Nevada. The first day he’d walked through the dilapidated structure filled with terrified girls and women, it had taken all his power not to show his horror. None of the other trafficking cases he’d worked had been this bad or required him to play such a hands-on role.

Mason had everyone take shifts to keep guard over the building. At first, Deeks had been paired with one of the other men, presumably so they could keep an eye on him, but then they’d backed off after a few days, and left him to guard on his own from time to time. Thankfully, he’d had minimal interaction with Baker since the knife incident.

The only way he got through each shift was by leaning into Max’s persona as deeply as he could.

Aside from Jason Baker, there were only two other men Deeks had met so far Adrean Torrin and Michael Westman. Torrin was a wiry man in his mid-30s, who Deeks figured Mason kept on for his loyalty, because he certainly didn’t bring intelligence. He filled most of his and Deeks’ shared shifts making lewd jokes.

Westman was a few inches taller than Deeks, and the more desirable of the two, if only because he spoke less. He rarely tried to engage with Deeks outside of what was absolutely necessary. He smoked day in and out though, and the smell of the cigarette smoke mixing with the stench of the dank building was nauseating.

Tonight, Deeks was on his third shift in a row, in the middle of walking through the cells. Torrin walked beside him, waving his automatic rifle menacingly, occasionally clanging it against the bars, and snickering when it got a response from one of the younger girls. Deeks suppressed the disgust that rose up in him at Torrin’s clear enjoyment at bullying helpless, scared little girls.

Instead, he kept his expression neutral as he scanned the cells, making sure none of victims looked sick or hurt. He did it every pass through; some quickly dipped their heads, refusing eye contact, while a couple looked at him pleadingly. One young woman, probably the one of the oldest of the group, glared back at him, her eyes gleaming with hatred. Just like they did every time she saw him.

“As soon as this bunch is gone, I’m going somewhere with a beach, lots of booze,” Torrin announced without promoting, his voice too loud and grating. “I wouldn’t mind taking one of these ones with me.” It wasn’t the first time he’d made similar comments, and once again, Deeks had to hide his revulsion behind a mask of indifference. Torrin nudged his shoulder, grinning lasciviously. “What about you, Maxie? I could hook you up.”

“Thanks, but I’ve never had any trouble finding lady friends,” Deeks replied, grinning knowingly.

“I bet you don’t.” Torrin laughed obscenely, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out an untraceable phone, and put it to his ear, swearing under his breath a moment later. “Damn, signal never gets through here.” He started back down the hall. “I’ll be back in time to feed ‘em.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time,” Deeks called after him. He waited a couple minutes, making sure he didn’t hear any further signs of movement, the retraced his steps to the third cell, and unlocked the door.

There were three girls who Deeks guessed to be somewhere in their early teens, and the young woman who had glared at him. Paola, his mind supplied. She stood up, putting a barrier between him and the younger girls, her stance defensive. One of the girls behind her whimpered.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” Deeks said, trying to infuse the whisper with as much reassurance as he could without raising his voice.

“Stay away from them,” Paola said. Despite her thin build, Deeks had no doubt that she’d fight tooth and nail to protect the other girls.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She scoffed, her lips curling up in disdain. There was something about her that reminded him vaguely of Rosa. The thought made Deeks wince and close his eyes briefly. She had a similar accent too, her long dark hair strewn around her shoulders.

“I heard what you were saying to the other man. That Torrin. You’re just like him and all the others.”

Sometimes he wished he wasn’t so good at playing Max. He’d known this part would be hard, but unfortunately, time wasn’t on his side. Deeks paused with his hand on his rifle, debating what could turn out to be an extremely stupid decision. Then, before he could overthink it, he tugged the strap over his head, and set the rifle behind him.

Paola’s eyes widened and he saw her eyes flick to the rifle. He wondered if she was considering making a run for it.

“Your name’s Paola, right?” Deeks asked. She leaned away, clearly confused that he knew her name. I know I’ve done and said a lot of really terrible things since I came here, but I promise I’m not a bad man. I’m only pretending to help these guys so I can figure out a way to get you out of here.”

There were a few whispers among the younger girls, and he heard one of the them translating into what he thought was Vietnamese.

“Why should we trust you?” Paola asked, lifting her chin. “You men like to play games.”

“Because my name isn’t Max, it’s Marty Deeks.” It was another risk, but knew it was worth it when Paola stance shifted a little. “I’m an undercover agent, well sort of, and I was sent here to get all of you out of here,” Deeks explained. “I know that’s probably still hard to believe after everything you’ve been through, but it’s the truth.“

“What proof do you have?” Paola demanded, and Deeks couldn’t contain a soft smile. He was oddly proud of her tenacity.

“No, I don’t have any proof. That would be too dangerous. But I can tell you that I’m married, and I, um, have a daughter named Rosa. She’s from Guatemala. She just graduated high school and wants to study law, like I did. And I have twin babies, who I miss more than anything in the world.”

With that last bit of information, Paola’s expression softened, and he knew he’d won her over.

“You left your family,” she said, shaking her head slightly in apparent disbelief. Following her lead, the younger girls had retreated slightly, seeming less afraid.

“I didn’t want to.” He shook his head. “It’s one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made, but once I was asked to help, I couldn’t say no.”

“How are you going to get us out of here then?” she asked. “It will be hard to sneak all of us out without someone noticing.”

“I do have a plan,” Deeks assured her. “Admittedly, it’s still a work in progress. When I tell you, I need everyone to be ready to leave. Make sure they know, but that they have to keep it a secret. If Mason or any of the others find out…” he shook his head, trailing off, and Paola’s eyes widened again with sudden understanding.”

“You’re afraid of him too,” she realized.

“I think anyone would be.” Deeks reached out, moving slowly enough that Paola could stop him if she wanted. She watched him cautiously, yet didn’t move or try to prevent him from squeezing her hand. She shuddered at the contact, her shoulders caving in after a moment, and a few tears leaked down her cheeks.

“Hey, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep all you of safe,” Deeks whispered. “I promise.”

***

***

The thing that most people didn’t understand was that Max existed on a spectrum. There was the Max who charmed Nicole and Monica. He wasn’t beyond a little cheating, lying, and stealing, but he’d probably be classified as a “bad boy” more than anything. Then there was the version who wasn’t beyond beating up a guy over some information or threatening his girl.

This job required the version of Max Deeks hated most. The one who had few boundaries and wasn’t afraid to get violent when his intelligence and sly words didn’t do the trick. He had a few boundaries and something akin to morals, but he rarely let those get in the way of what he wanted.

It was that Max who sauntered towards an unassuming brick building. He’d gone with a suit for the first meet, wanting to start off on even footing with the leader of the trafficking ring, Tobias Mason.

By all accounts, Mason kept his men in line with the knowledge that if any of them stepped out of line, it was probably the last mistake they’d ever make. Deeks didn’t have any doubts about that reputation either. The entire reason he was able to step in was because his predecessor had met an untimely end after some staged photos of him meeting with a rival had made their way to Mason. Deeks would feel worse about being inadvertently responsible for another man’s death, if it weren’t for the fact that the guy was nearly as bad as Mason.

Shifting his shoulders into the cloak of cockiness that was so key to Max, and tapped twice on the metal door at the back of the building. It was answered by a tall man with a leathery face, dull blue eyes, and a buzz cut.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Mason,” Deeks said, when the man said nothing. He patted Deeks down, not taking any of the weapons on his person, before he stepped back and jerked his head for Deeks to come inside.

Deeks followed him through a series of rooms, separated by partial walls. Old machinery littered some of the floors, but it was clear the building hadn’t been used for its original purpose for some time. Finally, they stopped in front of a small office, and knocked before swinging the door open.

There were three men inside; one seated at a desk, and the other two flanking either side, and all obviously armed.

“Mr. Gentry, I presume,” the man at the desk drawled, standing slowly.

“Max is fine,” Deeks answered, casually looking around the room. It was barebones, with just enough to get by for meetings like this.

“So, Mr. Gentry, how did you hear about my little business?” Mason asked, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from one of the desk drawers. He poured a small amount of bourbon into each glass.

“A mutual acquaintance, Mr. Henson, mentioned you were down a man,” Deeks responded easily. “Though I might be able to help out.”

“You look different than the pictures I’ve seen.” Mason gave him a once over, lingering over Deeks’ hair, and face, his suit.

“I’m good at adapting to a situation. And staying out of sight of cameras.” Deeks nodded significantly at Mason. “Something I think you’d appreciate.”

“Mm. Why don’t you tell me a little about your prior activities,” Mason said, offering Deeks one of the glasses. Deeks considered it for a moment, the shook his head.

“I don’t drink unless I open the bottle. And I certainly don’t feel the need to brag about my work. If you need that, I’ll go somewhere else.”

Mason’s eyes tightened at Deeks refusal, and Deeks felt a hint of disquiet, hoping that the mission wasn’t already going downhill this quickly. He stared back, not giving any sign that he was even slightly intimidated by the other man.

Fingers twitching on the glass, Mason regarded Deeks for another moment, and then let out a burst of sharp laughter.

“You’re brave, Max. I like that. For now.” Placing both glasses to the side, he gestured to either man beside him. “This is Baker and Torrin,” he continued. “Baker, show Max where he’ll be staying for the night.”

Baker, the larger and taller of the stepped forward. He had thick black hair and neatly trimmed facial hair that might have given a warmth to his face if not for his equally dark and hard eyes.

Mason moved towards the door, gesturing towards Deeks in a clear message that it was time for him to leave.

“I’ll expect you back here in the morning at 8.”

As Deeks passed through the door, he saw Mason lean in to whisper something to Baker.

“I think I can find my way home,” Deeks said once he and Baker were outside. He had no illusion that he’d be making contact with anyone from NCIS or the FBI tonight, but he didn’t like the idea of Mason or the others knowing where he stayed. The less they could piece about him, the better.

Out of the corner of his eye, Deeks caught a hint of movement, and reacted instinctually, spinning out of reach of Baker as he pulled a knife on him. He felt the faintest sting of the blade against his wrist.

“That’s a hell of a welcome to the office surprise,” he breathed.

“This isn’t a joke,” Baker growled, his eyes glittering at Deeks as he pointed the knife at him. “You do what we say, when we say. You try to be smart and you’ll pay the price.”

Deeks stilled for a moment, hands in the air. Then he kicked out with one foot, hitting Baker squarely in the abdomen; as the man fell, Deeks caught him around the neck, spinning him so his back was against Deeks’ chest. He grasped the man’s other hand, applying pressure until he heard the knife fall to the ground with a clatter.

“And if you ever pull a knife on me again, you won’t have a chance to say another word,” Deeks promised him, squeezing his arm a little tighter to bring the message home. “I don’t like threats.”

Baker gasped, fingers prying feebly at Deeks’ arm.

“Do you understand me?”

Baker gave a weak nod, making a desperate sound. Deeks held him for another few seconds, only letting go when he felt his body start to sag. When he released him, Baker collapsed in an ungainly heap.

Brushing his hands off, Deeks leaned over and grabbed Baker’s knife, twirling it a few times before he pocketed it. Baker stared up at him with a glint of fear in his eyes, but mostly loathing.

“Have a good night, Baker.”

Deeks walked away, keeping an ear out in case Baker got a second wind.

He certainly hadn’t intended to make an enemy so quickly, but he couldn’t let Baker get the upper hand. Deeks could only hope that his interactions with Baker remained minimal and the need for revenge didn’t outweigh any loyalty to Mason.

***