A/N: I know I say this every time … but I am truly sorry for taking so long to get back to this story. If I had realized that it would be several months before the next update, I would have given you some warning and maybe even put it on hiatus. I had several other writing projects to work on and with an anniversary and vacation trip into the Blue Ridge Mountains, the summer just got away from me. Then, on top of all that, I somehow tore a tendon in my right hand which made using a keyboard an exercise in absolute torture.

But I'm back now and, hopefully, I will be able to update my stories a little more frequently. I appreciate your patience and support in more ways than I can express with simple words and phrases.

So, if you're still willing and able to continue this journey with me … hang on … here we go.

...

Alignment

…

Henrietta Lange watched the steam drifting over the delicate porcelain from her second cup of tea. It was not her usual habit of drinking this much this late in the evening, and a quick glance at the elegant watch on her wrist told her that it was no longer Thursday, but very early on Friday morning. Bringing the cup to her lips, she savored the gentle aroma of cinnamon and chamomile wafting from the warm liquid. It soothed both her tired mind and body, allowing a moment of peace to envelope her as she relaxed behind her desk, the events of the previous evening weighing on her and causing a small wave of guilt to wash over her heart.

She could not help but feel responsible for everything that had happened over the past weeks, both to her team and the man she had snatched out of the hell that was the streets of Sarajevo. Then there were others who had wondered into this little drama that she had set in motion all those long years ago. Detectives Moss and Cole were lucky to be alive after their confrontation with The Defiler, who had cut a bloody swath through the city she called home. It sickened her soul that someone so vile and evil had been allowed to wander this earth for so long. She was able to find a sliver of solace in the fact that his predatory days were over; his cold, dead body on a cold slab in the county morgue.

Then she thought of the reason the man had been sent in the first place; a case of cold vengeance that spanned over the years and seemed to have finally found its path straight to her doorstep. For a brief moment, Hetty considered making a stand all on her own; packing up her kit and disappearing for a time while she prepared for the inevitable showdown with Strelnikov that appeared to be her destiny.

As soon as that thought passed through her mind, she cast it away. Over her years in the espionage business, she had learned and experienced so much that she could not write it all down even if she tried. But the one lesson that she had learned above all of the others was discernment, and in this situation, it wasn't just prudent, it was a necessity. There had been times when setting out on her own had been her only choice, but something in the back of her mind was telling her that in this case, she would need her team at her side.

And that's what was scaring her.

This foray had already been bloody, with some lives already lost and Deeks, Blye and Steele injured. Everything about this led her to believe that it was only going to get worse before it got better; her heart aching at what the cost might be once the dust finally settled.

Hetty heard a small commotion from the direction of the entrance and when she glanced up, her previous thoughts were suddenly overcome with a flood of relief but tinged with a small amount of frustration. Some of the injured and exhausted members of her team had arrived; a ragged looking Jericho trailing behind Kensi and Deeks as they shuffled through the Spanish Mission toward her office.

She calmly folded her hands in front of her on the edge of the ornate desk, swallowing down her urge to say something snarky, now that they were within earshot. They had already put in a full day's work that didn't include the encounter with Karenin, and here they were, dragging their worn bodies in at the early hours of Friday morning after leaving the hospital. Their dedication was admirable, but Hetty knew that they each needed to rest and try to grab at least a few hours' sleep. It was paramount to her to enforce a time of respite so they could recharge, both mentally and physically. When they approached her calmly, she detected their hesitance at getting to close to the little woman who conveyed so much authority that they appeared like kids entering the principal's office after a prank gone wrong.

"Mr. Steele, I can assume from your presence here, that your wounds were not as serious as was reported to me … " Hetty paused for the intended effect. " … or … you checked yourself out of the hospital against the doctor's expressed orders to remain under medical care."

Deeks turned tired eyes toward his friend, wondering what his reaction would be. To his amazement, Jericho remained calm and passive, as if Hetty had just asked about what he had for lunch.

"Come on Aunty Hetty, there's too much going on for me to lie around a hospital room … " Jericho shrugged his good shoulder, hiding the wince when the movement still pulled on the fresh stitches. " … besides, it's only a flesh wound."

"And a deep one, if Ms. Blye's conversation with Agent Callen was as accurate as I believe it is." Hetty's eyes cut to the female agent and caught the expression that she tried to hide. It was a look of sympathy for the wounded agent and also regret that she might have inadvertently got him into trouble with the diminutive operations manager.

Before Kensi could speak up, Jericho cut her off. "I'm sure Kensi told Callen everything that was necessary, but I'm still kicking and we have a trail to follow." He gave the female agent a little wink, letting her know that he didn't see her report as 'tattling' and wasn't going to hold it against her.

Hetty rocked back in her chair, her eyes drifting from his eyes to his shoulder and then back again. She was tempted to throw her letter opener at him, but his stubborn refusal to back down, even from her, had always impressed her. There was also the matter that he was correct that the trail was hot and they had to move and move quickly; the late, or early, hour be damned. "Very well, but you will refrain from any strenuous activities for the next few days … is that understood?"

"But what if … "

"Is. That. Understood. Mister Steele?"

Deeks and Kensi fought back the urge to chuckle at the man's misfortune of being on the receiving end of another of Hetty's stern pronouncements. With no room for argument, Jericho let his head drop slightly, giving in with a simple nod of his head.

"Yes, ma'am." He cocked his head to the side, glancing at his comrades who had little smirks on their faces. "Speaking of Callen, are they around?"

Hetty shook her head gently. "No. Ms. Jones was able to identify the specific hotel chain by the key that was recovered from Karenin's body and they are there at this very moment."

"Have they found anything?" Kensi prayed that there would be more clues that could finally bring this nightmare to an end.

"Nothing that they have reported, but it shouldn't take them too long. Besides clothes and some meager toiletries, the only other items that they have found were the implements that the Defiler used in his extracurricular activities." There was no need for further elaboration by Hetty and they all were grateful when she changed the direction of their thoughts. "Mr. Beale is attempting to glean information from the phone collected at the scene of tonight's excitement … he might need some assistance."

Jericho nodded at Hetty's prodding, silently wondering why he suddenly felt like he was being dismissed. "I guess we'll head up to ops."

The three of them turned but Hetty cleared her throat, making each of them freeze. "Ms. Blye … Mr. Deeks … a moment, if you please."

The detective and the agent froze in mid-turn, their hearts hammering in their chests and when they stopped, they caught the sideways grin plastered on Jericho's face as he stepped out of Hetty's office. As soon as he had disappeared up the stairs, they turned fully to face their boss, expecting a scowl, but found a rather neutral expression looking back at them.

"Detective Deeks … I was under the impression that you were still on light duty, and that usually means no field work." The neutral expression had apparently been a ruse, building a false sense of security before lowering the axe. "So, imagine my surprise when I discovered that not only had you slipped out of the Mission, but that you stowed away in Agent Hanna's vehicle and accompanied he and Agent Callen to the scene of tonight's activities."

Deeks cut off the yawn he had been fighting for the last few minutes to respond. "But Hetty, I was very careful about … "

She held up a hand, silencing him and causing Kensi to tense at his side.

"I wasn't finished." When they both remained silent, she continued. "You are still recovering from your recent injuries and yet you defy not only the orders of your doctor, but by Agent Callen and even myself." Hetty let that statement settle over the two people standing in front of her, smiling on the inside when she saw the weight of it catch up with them. "Ms. Blye and Mr. Steele were well equipped to deal with Karenin … " She paused, the effect staggering. " … so, why did you feel the need to disobey my express orders that you were to remain here?"

Kensi held her breath, knowing that defying Hetty had ended the careers of many a seasoned agent who thought they knew better than the former CIA operative. She was standing close enough to Deeks that she had the urge to reach out and take his hand to offer some small amount of moral support, letting him know that no matter what, she still had his back. When Deeks finally answered, it stole her breath away.

"My partner needed me." It was said with such honesty and conviction, that there seemed to be no room for argument. But this was Hetty after all.

"Your partner was in the company of an experienced and well-trained agent, with years of field work under his belt … are you going to stand there and tell me that, at that particular moment, you were better suited to be by your partner's side than he?" Hetty was unrelenting, a tempest at full force.

If Kensi thought that this was going to deter her partner, she was pleasantly surprised when he stood his ground, a Rock of Gibraltar in a blowing gale. "Yes."

The little woman shook her head, her lips turning down at the corners. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

For a moment, it was completely silent in the Mission. It would be several hours before any of the day crew began to trickle in to start their day and the security team that guarded the building at night were doing their usual outstanding job of remaining out of sight until there was a threat. To the three people in Hetty's office, it seemed that time had stopped, waiting for one simple response and when it came, it was like the world started turning again.

"Nothing against Jericho … I mean, Agent Steele … " He pursed his lips, as if contemplating the rest of his response, then his lips angled into a cocky smirk. " ... but … he's not me."

Kensi couldn't stop the smile that broke across her face and the tightening of her chest at Deeks' pronouncement. He couldn't have been more right about anything that had occurred that evening. While Jericho was indeed a very dangerous and proficient agent, he wasn't the man she'd wanted by her side during their pursuit of The Defiler. She was glad that she hadn't been alone, but not having her partner by her side had made her feel as if a part of her was missing. His statement had attested to the fact that he had felt the same thing so strongly that he had defied the only other woman on the planet that still scared him.

The detective and the agent waited with halted breath for the explosion that they were sure was coming. Kensi wondering if Deeks wouldn't be relegated to burn-room duty for the foreseeable future and her partner was hoping that the nearest exit would provide a quick escape. When a soft smile formed on Hetty's face, neither knew if that was a good thing or only a foreshadowing of the eruption to come.

"So, you defied me, put your own health and life at risk … simply because you needed to be by your partner's side?" It was said in such a way that there was no deciphering whether it was meant to further incriminate him or to praise him.

It only took a moment for him to answer. "Yes."

Hetty's face relaxed as her smile turned warm and understanding. "Excellent, Detective Deeks, excellent."

A stunned Kensi turned to an equally shocked Deeks, but before either could utter a word, Hetty was explaining.

"If you are brave enough to face my wrath in order to reach your partner, then I have the upmost confidence that you two are going to make this work."

Shock turned into confusion as Kensi choked out a question. "Make what work?"

Hetty let out a huff of air, like she was slightly insulted. "The new level of your partnership, of course."

"What?" The man and woman spoke at the same time, their individual expressions as equally confused and shocked.

"My dear, if he's willing to risk everything for you … including his health and his position here … then who I am to stand in your way. All I can ask is that you two remain professional while on the clock … " Hetty smiled warmly at them both. " … and that you love madly when you're not."

Deeks had swallowed his tongue and Kensi looked like she'd been tasered.

"But, I don't' … "

"How did you … "

Hetty simply waved them off. "Pish posh … you two are about as subtle as a hurricane." She rose from her chair, her posture purposeful and intense. "Now, I know the hour is late or early, depending on your perspective, but up to ops, we have some work to do before we can adjourn for some much needed rest." Her hand flicked up, one finger pointing toward the second floor where there were answers to some of the myriad of questions the night had presented. Just as they reached the foot of the stairs, she called out to them once more. "Fortune favors the bold, Mr. Deeks … remember that."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Deeks cut a quizzical look over to his partner. "Did that mean what I think it means?"

"How could she know about … wait, never mind … Hetty knows everything." Then Kensi turned and smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Heyyyy … what was that for?"

She was already up the stairs, slightly ahead of him. "It was probably something you did, you Doofus."

Deeks fell in close behind her, catching up at the top. "I've been a good boy … I haven't done anything bad … yet." He emphasized the word with a quick side-thrust of his hips, bumping his thigh against the edge her backside.

Kensi froze and for a moment, he thought that he might have pushed too hard too fast. An apology was on the tip of his tongue when she turned on her heel and kissed him hard and full on the mouth. His heart was racing and his body was thrumming with desire when she pulled away, a heated glaze covering her eyes. "Maybe I don't want you to be good … I think I'd like a little bad Deeks."

As he watched her sashay toward operations, he called out to her in a harsh whisper. "And I think I'd like a lot of naughty Kensi."

Just before the doors parted and she stepped to where their teammates were waiting, she turned to face him once more, her whispered words leaving him breathless. "Oh, Marty … you have nooooooo idea."

…

When the doors closed behind them, Kensi and Deeks found Jericho hunched over Eric's shoulder, intent on whatever was displayed on the tech's computer screen. The men were so engrossed, that the detective and the agent were certain that neither new that they were no longer alone in operations. That was until Agent Steele spoke without turning to face them.

"So, I guess whatever Aunt Hetty had to say wasn't life threatening?" The sly look he gave them made each one feel that he'd known exactly why Hetty had held them back.

"No, business as usual." Deeks tried to sound relaxed and almost pulled it off.

Jericho lost the battle with his own jaw breaking yawn before turning back to Eric's display. "Yeah … right."

Kensi bumped her partner's hip with her own, uttering a soft "Behave" as they slipped in behind their teammates. "So, what are you two so interested in?"

"I've cracked Karenin's sat phone security protocols … " The blonde tech turned slightly in his chair, a proud smile etched on his face. " … it wasn't easy; double encrypted, advanced algorithms, reversed Cyrillic alphabet characters, and some old Russian nursery rhyme for the key … pretty fancy stuff with some old school word games inserted as well … took me almost … "

Kensi almost pinched the bridge of her nose, recognizing one of Beale's famous, or infamous, caffeine highs without even looking at the waste can beside his desk which contained at least four empty energy drink containers. He tended to get himself over-stimulated when he worked beyond their normal day … and it caused him to ramble on, even more than usual. She knew that if someone didn't cut him off soon, he'd start drawing invisible flow charts in the air. "Thanks Eric, good work … was there anything of value to help us?"

Eric kicked his foot against the leg of his workstation, sending his chair into a series of quick spins. "Yessss … Agent Blye … there wasssssssssssssss."

Jericho's eyebrows shot up, inquiring from the Blye/Deeks team if this was typical behavior or should he be concerned. When the two of them simply shrugged their shoulders, he took it to mean that they were as concerned as he was. He turned back to the tech just as the chair was coming to a stop. "Eric, maybe you need a break … maybe go find out where Ms. Jones slipped off to?"

Eric's response was both confident and a bit loopy. "Nah … I'm good." He turned back to his keyboard, his eyes slightly glazed before he fell into an eerie silence before realizing he hadn't fully answered Kensi's question. "Oh right … sorry … there wasn't much as far as communication, a few calls or texts sent or received. The last text was a flight reservation confirmation number for a flight out of LAX to Leonardo Da Vinci International Airport in Rome."

"When does the flight depart?" Deeks leaned closer so he could see the computer screen.

Eric answered quickly. "Saturday at 10:00 p.m."

"Why Italy?" Kensi asked before her partner could.

Deeks glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Might just be a stop-over on his way back to Russia."

Jericho rubbed one hand across his jaw, another yawn struggling to escape. "Maybe … or he might have a safe house there … " He seemed to lose his thought pattern for a moment, the long days catching up to him. " … what else did you find, Eric?"

The tech was bouncing in his chair like a squirrel on a caffeine high. "All the calls came from the same number and were bounced off of two communications satellites, three transfer hubs, and even a relay station somewhere north of Finland … whoever they are, they're serious about not wanting to be backtracked."

Deeks was feeling a twinge of Kensi's impatience. "Thanks for the lowdown … but will this lead us to someplace other than Wayne Campbell's basement and the next installment of Wayne's World?"

When Eric spun this time, his face was serious and etched in deep thought. "Patience, my young padawan … to those who would seek truth, the first step is the most important."

"That didn't sound like Yoda." The detective glanced over to his partner who was beginning to get a certain expression on her face. It was the one that said she was about to shoot something … or someone.

"It wasn't Yoda." Eric's look didn't change.

Deeks folded his arms across his chest. "Then who said it?"

"I did."

"I know that … I meant, who said it first."

"No one."

"What?!"

Kensi reached the end of her rope. "GUYS!"

The two blondes snapped their heads to the agitated brunette. "Sorry."

Letting out a frustrated huff, Kensi pointed toward the main plasma screen. "Show us what you have Eric … and keep the commentary to a minimum or I'll tell Nell about your matching elf costume that you bought on eBay."

It was almost like she'd thrown a bucket of cold water on him, his body snapping to a rigid position in an instant. "I mapped out the trace on the only calls the phone received and transmitted. They all followed the same caller IP address but when I tapped into the communications server … I hit a bit of a firewall."

Deeks chimed in from Kensi's side. "Firewall, smirewall … to you, that usually means nothing."

Eric's face fell. "Yeah … usually … but this was some type of cold war era technology. When it realized that I wasn't an authorized user, it burned itself out."

"You can work your magic and salvage it, right?" Deeks had witnessed both Eric and Nell work miracles with hard-drives that had been run over by a tank … literally.

"Not this time … when I said 'burned itself out' … I meant it. It must have had some type of auto destruct sequence. I can't access the server because the server destroyed itself to prevent any further progress." Eric looked rather bummed about the outcome but he had followed the trail for as long as he could.

Jericho pointed to the screen. "Okay, but how far did you get?"

"Not far enough." Eric's caffeine high was coming down hard.

Agent Steele dropped a hand to the younger man's shoulder. "Just show us what you got … continent, country … we're closer than we were yesterday and we're not stopping now."

Eric swallowed the disappointment in himself, typing on his keyboard to pull up a world map on the screen. "Before the server crapped out … this is how far the trace had gone." The map on the screen spun, the area around the Mediterranean Sea enlarging into greater detail and a lighted icon pulsed over central Italy.

The flight to Rome wouldn't have been much on its own, but now, with the server trace that had ended in the same country, there was finally some good news and some possible light at the end of the tunnel.

"Italia … wonderful." Deeks cocked his eyebrows to his partner. "I hear Florence is romantic this time of year."

"Florence is romantic any time of year, Mister Deeks" Hetty's calm voice made him jump a little as she appeared right behind him without making a single sound. "But this does present us with a problem."

The detective spun slowly to face her. "What problem? We go over there and do what we do to hunt down the bastard that's behind all of this." The room hummed with his frustrated energy but the diminutive manager wasn't drawn into his emotional outburst.

"In theory, that sounds like a wonderful plan, but there are more things at stake than a simple traipse into a foreign country where we would need State Department authorization to conduct any type of operation on soil that is not our own." Hetty's voice was calm, but each person in the room could sense her hidden turmoil.

"That's never stopped us before." Kensi's hand was on the badge in her back pocket, her partner's position a mirror of her own.

"Not this time Agent Blye, Detective Deeks." The voice of Owen Granger cut in from where he had just entered the room. "There will be no sanctioned or unsanctioned operations involving any American Intelligence assets within the foreseeable future."

Deeks stepped up in front of his partner, his chest burning with more than the wound in his side. "And why the hell not?!"

Before the Assistant Director could answer, Jericho spoke up from behind them, his voice revealing his disappointment. "There's a NATO summit taking place in Paris in a few weeks and all counter-intelligence activities have been placed on hold." The big agent waited until everyone had turned to face him before he continued. "They don't want any one rocking the boat while their representatives try to figure out how to handle new threats that are popping up in the Middle East."

Kensi shook her head in disbelief. "But we're all on the same side, aren't we?"

Jericho shrugged. "We're all friends on paper, Agent Blye … but we still spy on them and they on us."

"So, we're not going to Italy?" Deeks' voice conveyed his own aggravation.

"Not officially … " Granger canted his head toward the female agent and her partner. " … and not unofficially either."

"You can't stop us." Kensi rolled her shoulders, preparing for the verbal sparring that was coming.

"And I'm not in your chain-of-command, nor am I under your authority … you definitely can't stop me." For a moment, it looked as if Jericho was attempting to pick another fight with the assistant director, but his wry grin at the end took most of the bite out of his statement.

Just as Granger was about to make empty threats about freezing passports that would have no impact on people who were basically ghosts, the tall agent spoke again. "Since I believe that we are going to need every resource possible for this to end well, how about a joint training exercise with the only force that can operate with impunity in the country in question?"

Hetty was the first to put the man's thought together in her head. A sanctioned training exercise would allow them to use their assets overseas as well as remain in open contact with their assets stateside as well; primarily, Eric and Nell, the two best technical analysts in the business. "Owen, wasn't there a memo from the Secretary of the Navy about fostering amity between foreign intelligence agencies? It seems to me that we are long overdue for a training rotation with our allies around the Mediterranean and I hear that the weather in Spain has been unseasonably mild this year."

Owen Granger took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing into tiny slits as he eyed the woman he counted as a close friend at the same time he saw her as a worthy adversary. He knew there was no way he could keep them all from turning in their badges and following Agent Steele on some wild, unsanctioned mission to Italy that would probably result in furious calls from several dignitaries, ambassadors, and even a few heads-of-state when it was all over and the dust settled. It also could mean the censure of himself, Hetty and what would be left of the best team he'd ever worked with. Letting them go in without support, whether tactical or electronic, could prove devastating to the men and women who could do so much with so little. "I do seem to remember some message to that effect crossing my desk … " He gave Hetty a miniscule wink, making her chuckle. " … and after all that your team has been through over the past few weeks, a little jaunt across the Atlantic might be good for morale as well."

Before she spoke, Kensi subtly elbowed her partner before he could make any comment about what would be good for his morale, mainly skinning dipping in the Med with his partner. "But how will we operate outside of Rota? Won't that still cause problems with the Italians?"

Hetty nodded but turned her attention to Jericho. "Mr. Steele, might you have a solution that would facilitate smooth interaction with those agencies?"

Jericho let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a grin that was both pleased and, surprisingly, a little giddy. "Yes, I think I do." He turned to Eric and leaned in close. "Mr. Beale, I need you to place an over-seas call for me."

…

With the rest of the room cleared and secure, Granger and Hetty were standing just in front of the center console with Jericho out before them, directly under the plasma screen with Deeks and Kensi off to his right, fighting back the yawns that the days exhaustion brought on. Eric was tapping on his keyboard and humming softly to himself as he finished punching in the last set of keystrokes. There was a soft chirp over the speakers and the tech nodded toward the big agent.

"You video call just connected, sir."

The screen faded to black, then filled with waves of white electronic snow before blinking into a test pattern, the words INITIALIZING appearing across the center. A soft hiss echoed through the speakers then the screen cleared and a woman appeared. She was standing in the middle of a softly lit room, the background filled with equipment similar to the operations center around them.

They could only see her from about the waist up, but whoever she was, she was stunning. Her long, black hair was pulled back into a braided pony-tail that was draped over her left shoulder, reaching almost to her waist and her skin was a soft shade of caramel; rich and exotic. Her dark blue blouse set off her dark skin and the short sleeves displaying lithe arms that, while strong, only added to her femininity. Powerful and intense eyes gazed back at them from under curled lashes, only adding to her appeal and the mysterious nature of who she was. She looked as if she should be in the middle of a photo shoot on a white sanded beach, not accepting a video call from the NCIS clandestine branch.

In the instant that the woman came into view, Kensi and Deeks both noted that Jericho's entire countenance shifted into the most relaxed they had seen him since they had met him. His lips curled into a smile that was both warm and content, looking like a much younger version of himself. After a moment, Kensi recognized his expression as the same one that he'd had on his face when they had been talking in the hospital and he'd told her about the woman he had met while training with the Mossad years ago. It was suddenly very clear who it was that had materialized on the screen before them.

"Agent Steele, I would say it is a pleasure but from the timing and people behind you … I have the feeling that this isn't a social call." Even over the long distance connection, her voice sounded like soft velvet and she smiled lightly at the end.

"It's always a pleasure, Inspector Joshuah (Ya-shoo-wah) … but first, introductions. " Even his voice was a little lower. "This is Henrietta Lange … "

Hetty stepped a little closer to the screen, tilting her head slightly. "My dear, you are lovely."

The resolution of the screen picked up the younger woman's slight blush but her response surprised everyone who heard it. "Thank you … it's a pleasure to finally meet the indomitable Henrietta Lange, so to speak." The two women shared a quick smile then the mysterious woman canted her head to the others in the room as Jericho continued to speak.

"Owen Granger … "

"Assistant Director." The beautiful woman nodded, the use of his official title revealed a level of knowledge that went beyond simple law enforcement.

"Eric Beale on the keyboard … " Jericho made it sound like he was introducing a member of a rock band as the blonde tech gave the woman a slight grin and a small wave.

"And this is Special Agent Blye and her partner, Deeks."

Kensi and Deeks nodded and spoke in tandem. "Hello."

"Agents … " Then she turned her dark eyes back to Jericho. " … do they always do that?"

"Yeah … enough to make it a little freaky sometimes." He chuckled while the partners tried to act nonchalant about it, but when he turned back to the screen, his voice dropped an octave and when he spoke, his words were laced with longing. "It's good to see you."

Her response was similar in tone, her face alight as her eyes danced. "It is good to be seen." Dark eyes locked with jade-green ones, and for several moments they seemed to lose themselves in a world that only the two of them shared. Then there was a shift, the former Mossad agent's eyes drifting to Jericho's left shoulder, noticing a small detail from wherever she was. "You're injured."

"Ah, this? It's nothing." The agent from the NSA started to say something else when she suddenly cut him off. "Just a flesh wound."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm all too familiar with your 'flesh wounds'. How bad is it?"

Jericho let out a huff of air, as if he knew he was going to lose this battle and that it was better to simply admit defeat and be truthful. "Small stab wound … no major damage, barely even felt it."

The beautiful woman let out a light chuckle. "Yeah, right." Then her eyes met his and the next words out of her mouth caused the stoic man to quake in his boots. "At least you didn't tell me you had crashed on the bike."

When she noticed that everyone in the room had gone silent and still, her face lost its color. "You didn't wreck my bike, did you?" It appeared that she was kidding, but when Jericho's shoulders dropped, her expression changed from teasing to serious in an instant, moving closer to the camera, causing Jericho to take a quick step back. "What happened … to … my … Ducati?!"

"I … it was … look, there was this guy and he was … well … we were trying to catch him and … he …" The poor man's tongue had been rendered useless as he stood in the middle of the room, completely at a loss as what to say.

"I swear, Jericho … if you put even one little scratch on her … I'm going to … " There was a fire in the woman's eyes that rivaled the one they usually saw in Kensi's when she was dealing with her partner when he hid her Twinkies.

Hetty stepped forward, her hands folded regally across her waist and her demeanor was both calm and passive. "Mister Steele was aiding us in the pursuit of a murderous man from Bogota. During their final confrontation, the Ducati was … damaged … in a successful attempt to finally apprehend the suspect."

"But he promised to take care of her." The fierce woman's anger was dissipating, sounding more pleading than pissed.

"His actions help take a killer off of our streets and stopped him from creating even more mayhem." Hetty's tone hadn't changed, remaining calm and soothing.

The woman on the screen seemed to mull over the statements before finally letting out a long huff of frustration. When she looked back up, there was still fire in her eyes, but it had been ratcheted down a few degrees. "This isn't over, Steele … you owe me. "

"I know." He dropped his head, showing her that he was as upset about the bike as she was. "I'll buy you a new one."

"You're damn right you will … Jet Black … with chrome trim …" She paused, waiting until he looked back at her before she continued, and the gratitude in her voice was impossible to miss. " … but, I am glad you are alright."

The smile that formed on his face was sheepish but thankful. "Yeah … no worries … can't keep a good man down."

Folding her arms across her chest, she rolled her eyes as her demeanor went from serious to annoyed. "That's debatable … remember Syria?"

Now it was Jericho's turn to huff. "Why do you always bring that up? You know that wasn't my fault." He was trying to sound indignant, but it fell flat as his slight grin gave him away.

"You always sound like Han Solo complaining about the hyperdrive …" When she spoke again, she did a pretty good imitation of both Jericho's voice and his mannerism, rolling her shoulders to make herself look larger than she actually was. " … It wasn't my fault they mined the road … it wasn't my fault they blew the bridge … it wasn't my fault they knew we were coming … it wasn't my fault I was outnumbered …"

Whether it was the way she thumped her chest or gestured with her hands like he was prone to do, with self-depreciating laughter Jericho held up a hand to stop her. "Okay … okay … you've made your point … and embarrassed me in front of my friends."

"And here I thought you were tough … wimp." The woman's face was contorted with her own efforts to stifle her smile.

"Hey!" Jericho stepped a little closer, knowing that the move would make his image appear larger on the screen in front of his lover. He was about to say something else when Granger cleared his throat from behind him.

"Agent Steele, shall we continue?"

"Yes, of course … sorry." When he turned to face them and point over his shoulder, his affection for the woman on the screen was written all over his beaming smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, Neriah Joshuah, formally of the Israeli Mossad and currently assigned as a Special Inspector for INTERPOL."

The woman bowed slightly, and when the camera caught the light sparkling in her eyes, Deeks noticed that her left eye carried the same birthmark that his partner had in her right, the Nevus of Ota. "Wow, that's cool." He didn't mean to say it out loud but it seemed he'd done it anyway.

Kensi, who was the only one who heard him, bumped his arm. "What?"

He leaned in close to whisper into her ear. "Her left eye … it's like yours."

When the brunette glanced back at the screen, she found that it was true; Neriah having the same distinguishing mark that was considered, by some societies, to be an indication of great favor by the gods. Then she remembered her first encounter with Jericho, back when he'd sketched her portrait back in the park while she was on over-watch for young Juan Zappula. When he'd handed Kensi the drawing, the one that she was having framed, he'd made a comment about her eye and how he'd only met one other woman that shared the same mark that she bore and it was this very woman who was now on the screen in front of them.

When Jericho turned back to Neriah, his expression turned more serious but before he could speak, she cut him off. "I know that look, Jericho … what have you gotten yourself into now?"

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a gently smile. "You know me too well, Sweetheart … " The way he called her that was tender and full of affection. " … and you're right, I've stepped into something that was much bigger than I expected and we need your help."

Neriah's friendly demeanor shifted into bad-ass-killer mode in an instant but her eyes held nothing but warmth for the tall NSA agent. "Whatever you need, name it."

Over the next few minutes, Jericho laid out the chain of events that had brought them to their current situation, from the contract put out on Hetty and culminating in Vlad the Defiler's demise which led to the back trace on the butcher's phone which took them to Europe. He noticed a slight twinge at the mention of Yuriatin Strelnikov's name but decided to wait to point it out.

Neriah listened intently and only interrupted when she needed to clarify a detail or to ask a pertinent question. She was both professional and sharp, quickly filling in some of the story on her own without needing any further information, the trail of blood and death concluding at Strelnikov's doorstep. When Jericho finished, she dropped her head in acknowledgment answering his question before he even asked.

"Yuriatin Strelnikov, or as we know him, Yuri Strelok, is someone we've heard about before." She moved to a computer console on her right, tapping a few keys until an overlay appeared on the plasma in front of them. There were photos of an aged man with impeccably styled light salt-n-pepper hair walking out of what appeared to be a large bank or office building. He wore a well-tailored dark suit and the rimmed hat and dark sunglasses hid as much of his face as possible without appearing too obvious. All the pictures were from the same location and time; the sidewalk around him occupied by a few pedestrians and several large men who appeared to be part of a security detail. "This is the only photo we have of him, taken three years ago during a trip to the Credit Suisse in Zurich where he was unloading a hoard of negotiable bearer bonds from some dealings with a few now defunded Russian banks and holding houses."

Deeks raised an eyebrow. "And these are the only photos you have?"

"Yes … he is very good at staying … what do you Americans say … beneath the radar?"

Jericho chuckled gently at her mangling of the idiom. "It's under the radar, Love … and congratulations on getting this much."

Neriah shook her head. "He wasn't even the one we were looking for … surveillance was after a wealthy Saudi suspected of funding several terrorist groups. They were photographing everyone entering or leaving the bank … Strelok just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time."

Neriah tapped a few more keys and a list of criminal activities popped up on the left hand side of the screen. "There are several agencies interested in Mr. Strelok … he's carving out his own little fiefdom in the European crime syndicate. He used his old intelligence contacts in the former Soviet Union to build a very powerful and dangerous organization … he's suspected of having business dealings in the realms of prostitution, human trafficking, drugs, extortion, kidnapping and murder … but more recently he's found a niche in the illegal arms trade; that's what brought him to our attention."

Granger stepped forward, his usually friendly demeanor shining through. "If you know all this about him, why in the world is he still breathing free air?"

If the unsaid accusation bothered her, Neriah remained professional and ignored it. "Some agencies call him 'Mr. Teflon' … meaning nothing ever sticks and he's very good at covering his tracks, always staying one step ahead. We know he's had lawyers, police, even a few judges killed … along with their families … to remain out of reach. He has bought-off or out-right threatened his way out of any charges ever being brought directly against him and he has contacts on the inside of almost every nation's law enforcement agencies. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't have moles here in Lyons as well."

That left the room in silence, until Hetty inclined her head toward the screen. "I see, my dear … am I to assume that you are the only one privy to this conversation."

"Of course … this is on the Chancellor's private line, the most secure one we have."

Every eye turned to look at Jericho, who apparently just placed a call on a line that was reserved for Heads of State to contact the director of the world renowned police force. When he caught their expressions, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "Ah … it's a long story, better suited for another time." He turned back to the screen, addressing the dark haired beauty once more. "Thanks for this, Neriah … I know it was a risk … "

"Nothing to it … you call, I answer." It wasn't a trite response as it first appeared, more of an unspoken vow between the two of them, their eyes speaking volumes without either one saying anything more until Neriah tapped another key to pull up even more information. "He's surrounded himself with mercenary types … former military … mostly from former Soviet states; Croatia, Serbia, the Czech Republic, the Ukraine … all special forces trained and dangerous. His head of security was a major in the Speztnaz … name's Stepan Koznyshev and he's the worst one of the bunch."

Deeks chuckled but there was absolutely no humor in it. "We've run into a few of Strelok's associates over the past few weeks … hard to believe that they could possibly get any worse."

"I won't argue the point, Mr. Deeks … but be warned; if you guys go at them head-on … the price of victory could be extremely high." There was a sense of foreboding in her comment, but no one had any idea what to say that might alleviate the anxiety that fell on the room.

Jericho broke through the shroud that fogged up their previous good mood. "We're pretty confident that he's somewhere in Italy … do you think that they would be willing to make a move on him, if the information proved to be factual?"

Neriah nodded as she spoke. "I know several who have lost friends and comrades to his organization, and I am confident that they would support an operation that would bring him before a court of law … but it may not be that simple."

"Why not?" Hetty had her suspicions, but needed them to be confirmed.

"If he's is indeed in Italy, whatever province he is in, he will have local and even the regional law enforcement in his back pocket … either through money or violence … he'll be protected by the very people that we would need to help take him down." Neriah's statement left them a little deflated.

"But what about INTERPOL, can't you guys just go get him?" Deeks had crossed his arms, his stance a bit tense and frustrated.

"Sorry, we don't operate that way." Neriah shrugged, understanding the man's desire for justice. "We are not chartered to enter into a sovereign country and apprehend a citizen or resident of that country. We can issue arrest edicts based upon international law, but the indigenous law enforcement agencies are the ones who must put the boots on the ground, their judges have to sign the warrants, and their courts must prosecute. If they don't go along or ignore us, our hands are basically tied."

The blonde detective allowed some of his discontent to slip out. "Well, of all the useless and stupid things that I've ever heard … "

Jericho glanced over at his friend. "Just another part of being one nation among many, Deeks … don't get too bent out of shape about it."

Neriah nodded. "But … if Strelok is in Europe and we had a specific location … there aren't many agencies that would turn down the opportunity to take him out for good."

Granger's dower tone cut in when she finished. "Take him out? … not something that our government would ever condone."

Neriah's chuckle caught them all off guard. "You'd be surprised what your government condones without 'officially' condoning anything. Let's just agree to a 'poe-ta-toe, pa-tah-toe' compromise, shall we?"

"If he's in Italy, do you think that they'll actually go after him or will they tip him off?" Kensi liked the woman, but this international pussy-footing was getting on her nerves.

"It may come as a surprise, but there are actually still some who can be trusted to do their sworn duties." There was an edge to Neriah's tone, her friendly demeanor taking on a more guarded stance. "I have some colleagues there who will be more than willing to take on Strelok."

Kensi, knowing that diplomacy was needed instead of the posturing that was about to take place, acquiesced to the other woman. "I meant no disrespect, but we've been left hanging before."

Taking a deep breath, Neriah took the offering for what it was; a protective measure born out of necessity in the world in which people like them operated. "Point taken, Agent Blye … and you are right, we will have to maintain a tight rein on operational prudence. If the wrong ears hear about this, he will simply disappear." She exchanged a friendly nod with the brunette agent, their tiff over before it really gained any steam.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, each person lost in the implications of what it would mean if this opportunity was lost or fumbled. Jericho nodded to the screen before turning to assess the thoughts of his friends. "So, you think you guys can make your way to Rota?"

Kensi and Deeks turned to look at Granger and Hetty, knowing that the two of them would have to green light their trip across the Atlantic. After a moment, the operations manager turned her gaze to her boss, whose expression had remained dour through-out the briefing with Inspector Joshuah.

"Owen?"

Granger had his hands jammed into his pockets; his face set in that unreadable expression that drove them all crazy wondering what was tumbling around in his mind. The thought of all the calls he would have to make, all the platitudes that he would have to dish out, and all the back sides that he would have to kiss in order to receive approval of such a risky move made his stomach ulcer act up. He would have to keep his bosses in the dark about the true intent of this team's sudden venture, waiting until the last moment out of fear that one slip of the tongue, one overheard message from one dignitary to another, could spell doom for them and a loss of the chance to bring all of this to an end. Scanning the room, he met each set of eyes before stopping to look at Hetty and letting out a short sigh.

"Send your people home Hetty and tell them to get some rest …" They were all preparing to argue the trite dismissal when he finished his thought. " … there will be little time for it once they arrive in Spain."

…

With a slightly confused expression on his face, Callen slid his finger across the screen of his phone, ending the call from Eric back at operations. "That was Eric, we've been ordered home to rest … be back at ops no later than one this afternoon."

Sam glanced down at the clock display on the dash. "Well, after I drop you off and get home … that leaves about eight hours to catch up on all the sleep we've missed."

"It may not be a lot after the week we've had … but it's better than nothing." The team leader rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, allowing the pressure to alleviate some of the throbbing in his skull. He knew that they had been operating on fumes for the past day or so, all of them needing several hours of uninterrupted slumber.

"What's the game plan for when we go back?"

Callen let his head fall back against the padded head rest. "Seems like we're taking a field trip."

Sam glanced over to his friend. "Anywhere in particular?"

"How's your Italian?"

"Bit rusty, but I'm sure I'll manage." Sam slid them into the faster lane, wanting to make as much of the 'eight hours' as possible. "So, I guess that means that we have an idea on Strelnikov's location?"

"Eric gave me the highpoints: back traced Karenin's phone to Italy, Jericho made a call to a contact at INTERPOL and then Granger authorized a training mission for us to our field office in Rota, Spain." Callen replayed the information in as succinct manner as was possible at almost two-thirty in the morning. They were on their way back to the Mission with the contents of Vlad the Defiler's hotel room in the trunk of Sam's car. It had been a fairly simple affair, the man's belongings already packed into two suitcases, the room already swept clean. The first bag held clothes and essentials; the other contained the killer's various implements of torture and death. Neither held anything that gave them any new information and they had left the room rather despondent, until Eric's call came through. "Granger worked some magic and the Van Nuys guys are keeping the press at bay with a story about a disgruntled factory worker who shot at some cops before leaping off the building where he worked. It'll keep anyone that might be tracking Karenin from realizing that he's no longer a viable asset … and it might work to our advantage."

Sam nodded but let out small huff. "I hope this isn't just some wild goose chase … I'm getting tired of playing catch-up."

"I know what you mean … and maybe we are getting near the end."

The tone of his partner sounded off and when Sam looked over, he found Callen's eyes staring off at the passing street lights. It was the look that indicated that there was something rattling around in his friend's mind, something that needed some serious thinking in order to work it all out. The SEAL waited a few moments for attempting to break his friend's concentration. "I can hear the gears turning way over here … care to share?"

There was a short pause before Callen responded. "Just something that Jericho said back in the hospital … about being led into someone's backyard … onto their playing field."

"You think going to Europe is a mistake?"

Callen shook his head. "I don't think it's that … I'm pretty sure that's the only way we are going to end this … Strelnikov isn't stupid enough to come here."

"I don't relish the idea of heading where we will be at a disadvantage … having to rely on people we don't know." Sam wasn't trying to be pessimistic about the trip, but sometimes a hasty attack was worse than no attack at all. He knew that Strelnikov's organization was dangerous and tackling them on their home turf could be disaster. Their skills and expertise had proved to be extraordinary over the past few weeks, but there had been a lot of luck involved as well. He just worried that one day, that luck would run out at precisely the wrong moment and all the skills and training in the world would prove useless.

Callen seemed lost in his thoughts, letting the words of his friend reverberate through his mind, working out as many scenarios for success as he could come up with. This could be the very thing that was needed and it might even throw off whatever plans Strelnikov had come up with. But there were still too many variables, too many unknowns … and he had the sinking feeling in his stomach that this would be one mission where not everyone would walk away unscathed. These were his friends … his familia … and where they went, he went. Who they fought, he would fight with everything that he had. They had overcome worse situations before and he was confident that they would be victorious; he was just dreading the price that they might have to pay.

When Sam spoke up, it took Callen's brain a moment to catch up with the change in topic. "Do you think Nell will find anything?"

"About what?"

The big man's smile was a little crooked when he glanced over at his friend. "Come on, man … don't play stupid … I saw you whisper something to her when you gave her the baggie with the bandage with Jericho's blood on it. She scurried out of there so fast, I thought her tail was on fire."

Knowing that denying it wasn't a viable option, Callen turned to look right back. "She's submitting Steele's blood for a DNA workup … I wanted to get her started as soon as possible."

Sam shook his head. "But we don't have anything to compare it too …" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shift in his friend's expression. " … or, do we?"

It was time for Callen to come clean. "While you were in the head at the hospital, Nell gave me a call." He waited a moment before continuing while Sam navigated around a large waste disposal truck that was already making its rounds through LA. When he knew his friend was listening, he explained. "It seems that even back in the late seventies and early eighties, the Russians were keeping blood samples for their assets and even though the implications of DNA research were in its infancy … "

Sam eyes lit up at the implication. "There was a map of Strelnikov's DNA in that microchip that Archady gave us."

"Yeah. Back then it was only seen as a way to positively identify someone when all other methods failed." Callen tapped his knuckles against the edge of the window. "Nell is sending it to the lab to compare Jericho's sample with Strelnikov's … "

"And we'll know if they are father and son." Sam spoke as if it was both a question and an answer.

The interior of the car fell into a grim silence, both men lost in their own thoughts of all the implications if their theory proved to be correct. After a few moments, Sam was pulling up in front of Callen's dark apartment and he left the engine idling after they had come to a stop. He waited until his friend reached for the door handle before he spoke. "What'll you think will happen if it's true … if Jericho really is Strelnikov's long lost son?"

After opening the door and stepping out onto the grass beside the curb, Callen took a long, deep breath before leaning over to look back at his partner who was waiting for a response.

"I think all hell is going to break loose."

…

A/N: I am playing around with how long it takes to actually map out a blood sample to obtain a person's DNA … but if they can do it in a matter of hours on a fictional tv show, I guess I can do it here as well.

Again, I deeply regret taking so very long to update but as usual, life got in the way. If you are still reading and haven't written me off, I am greatly in your debt and will work harder at updating at a steadier pace.

Semper Fi

JS