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Retribution	By : ambrosiarush Category: M through R > NCIS: Los Angeles Views: 13277 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS:LA or any of it's characters. I do NOT make any money from writing this story.

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Matt Bernhart was uneasy. What he had told two federal agents... it wouldn’t just end his career if it got out, it would have those human traffickers released, and he, likely, imprisoned. He had been staring at a file for the past hour and a half and had gotten no where with it. He kept re-reading the same sentence over and over- his mind was elsewhere.

He was a cop. He considered himself to be a good one. He fought against injustice. He worked to protect innocent people. He spent a good portion of his adult life slipping in and out of aliases working undercover for the LAPD, he dedicated his life to the protection of others. What he had done was wrong, he knew that. He had lied in the report, matched the events to what Brent Harrison had written. Human traffickers with more lawyers and judges in their pockets than most people did small change. Knowing what he did now, would he have still lied?

He ran his hand over his neatly trimmed blond hair, he’d recently been undercover at a bank, it also explained why he was wearing a dark suit, he’d ditched the jacket on the back of his chair, the silver tie was draped over his computer monitor and he’d unbuttoned the first few buttons of the white collared shirt.

Would he have lied? He mulled it over, running his hand over his clean shaven jaw line. Like it was yesterday the memory returned to him. The warehouse. The cages. The tiny, emaciated bodies inside. A bowl of water and a bit of bread to the side, like they were dogs and not little girls. The youngest had been a six year old girl, she’d been ID’d later as Natasha Clarke, she’d liked ballet and painting. She’d been the only child, a miracle to her parents Paul and Helen- who had tried for years for a child before finally conceiving Natasha. Paul had died in an auto accident when Natasha had been three. The little girl was Helen’s world. When Natasha had gone missing, Helen was into the station daily.

Matt always took the time to study the faces of missing children on the board... it was a big board, there were always faces being posted. He’d known Natasha Clarke’s when he found her in that warehouse. He’d gone personally to inform Helen. And she’d asked questions. How? What happened? Who did this? What did they do to my baby?

It was one of the very few cases that had physically made him sick. How do you answer that question asked by a grieving mother? How do you tell her that her baby had been found, not in one of those cages, but tied to a bed by pure evil? How did you tell a mother that her six year old daughter had been raped? How do you tell a mother that her daughter had been strangled by big hands? Dark purple bruises were around her neck, stood out against her pale bluish skin, days dead by the time he found her... how do you tell a mother that?

How do you tell that mother that justice won’t be served because of lawyers and judges being paid off by the men who took your daughter, tortured her, killed her? How do you tell her that another cop might be a little bit dirty, might be trying to convict for the wrong reasons and is doing sloppy police work because of it? How do you tell her that those men are going to get away because of that cop? He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let them get away with what they had done. It wasn’t just for Natasha Clarke, or her mother... but all those little bodies in cages that had been kidnapped, beaten, raped, kept in cells.

His stomach still lurched at the thoughts and he pushed away from his desk. He needed some air, but he had come to a conclusion.

Knowing all that he knew now, even risking his career or imprisonment himself... he’d do it again.

::

“Nate!” Kensi let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She tightened her hand around his. “Hey, welcome back.” She’d been so worried about him, out much longer than the doctors were comfortable with.

The man’s dark eyebrows drew down as he looked around, studying his surroundings, regaining his bearings. His free hand raised to his head and felt the gauze there.

“You took quite the knock,” Kensi informed him and brushed her thumb along his knuckles. “Gave me quite the scare, Nate.”

He looked contrite. “Sorry, Kens.”

She frowned. “It’s not your fault,” she told him softly. “What’s today’s date?”

“Huh?”

“The date, I just... you knocked your head.”

“Oh,” he was quiet for a second before he prattled off the correct date.

“What’s my middle name?”

“Marie.”

“Where are we?”

“A hospital,” Nate responded dryly. “Looks like Olympia if I’m not mistaken, and if I’m right, that indicates that this team spends far too much time on the injured list. Los Angeles, if that was the general answer you were looking for.”

“You’re a little touchy when you’re injured, want to talk about it?”

Nate heard the mocking tone in her voice and he narrowed his eyes at her before the memory of the accident came jarring back to him. “I was driving.”

“Yeah.”

“Delaney, is she okay?”

Kensi heard the panic loud and clear. “She was only sustained a minor injury in the accident. Hit her head against the window when the other car nailed you guys. Wasn’t your fault Nate, the guy ran a red light. Sam’s with the guy who did it.”

Nate ran a hand along his chest where the seatbelt had been. It was painful to touch, he could imagine the bruise. “I should have been more careful.”

“The guy sped up, Nate, there was really nothing you could have done to prevent getting hit.”

“Sped up?” Nate turned to her and Kensi closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to tell Nate the really bad news. She didn’t want him to worry, he was injured, he needed rest. “Are you telling me someone did this on purpose, that it was in some way planned.”

“Nate.”

He sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest, and the throbbing of his head. The world tilted slightly and Kensi’s hands were on his shoulder.

“Lay down, Nate! You’re not okay!”

“Where is Delaney, what room, I need to see her... I need to know she’s really alright.”

“Oh, Nate,” she whispered. “You can’t see Delaney... she was taken from the scene.... by Trent Stadden.”

::

Deeks didn’t bother to knock, he just opened the door to Brent Harrison’s office. “What the! Ever heard of knocking Deeks?”

“Ever heard of good police work Harrison?” Deeks quipped back, his arms folded over his chest as a physical reminder not to punch the other man in the face.

“You come in here,” Brent Harrison stood, his hands on his desk, a fury upon his face. “And you are going to call into question my police work?”

“Trent Stadden.” The name left a bitter taste on his tongue. “Is he really guilty?”

Callen stood back, he had intended to conduct the interrogation himself but now in the office he knew it wasn’t his place, he had no leverage. He would wait, watch, listen. He paid close attention to the anger upon Brent’s face, to the angry lines of Deeks he’d keep eyes on both men and make sure that it didn’t come to fists.

“He was convicted, wasn’t he?”

Deflection. Callen knew that Nate would point out the man wasn’t answering anything, just asking other questions throwing things back at the other detective.

“He was. By my testimony,” Deeks said softly. “Our investigation lead me to believe in his guilt... and now... did you lie, at any point in the investigation, did you tamper with evidence.”

“Of course not, how insulting for you to even insinuate that I would!” Harrison’s face was red with anger. “I’ve never lied during a case, never tampered with evidence! I’m an officer of the law!”

Callen turned when he heard a soft curse outside the still opened door. Matt Bernhart walked in, slowly shut the door behind him. He looked to Callen and then took a stand beside Deeks.

“You want to try that statement again?” Matt asked shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. He had intended on going outside, clearing his head when he’d walked by the office, heard what was going on inside he knew it was time to fess up to his part. He’d let Brent Harrison get away with wrong doings, he’d had reasons, but it was time to face truth. Brent Harrison was a dirty cop. But following that logic, so was he, and it had his stomach in knots.

“You have nothing to do with this!”

“I know you lied during the human trafficking investigation we launched years ago,” Matt said softly. “And I lied to cover it up, to put those men away. Maybe other cops have felt the same way, done the same thing, maybe you just lied or tampered and got away with it. But it ends here.”

Harrison had gone pale. “You have no proof.”

“Yeah,” Matt whispered. “I have the pictures, the ones I took out of the report, they went against your statement.” He felt queasy. “I’m handing them over to Bates.”

“It’s lies!”

“Your lies,” Matt said, accepting whatever was to happen, would happen. Lady Justice had her way of balancing out the scales. He had to have faith in what it was he fought all these years for. He had to put his life in the scales. “They need to be set straight. Your lies lead to all this,” he gestured to Deeks. “If you hadn’t lied during the Stadden investigation-“

“I nev-“

“Than that woman wouldn’t be dead,” Deeks said. “She wouldn’t have been hung in the entrance way of my childhood home. One of my best friends wouldn’t be in the hospital hanging on to life by a thread, his sister wouldn’t have been kidnapped, an agent wouldn’t be in the hospital and a prison psychologist wouldn’t be in the hospital, his daughter missing.”

“What?” Matt turned and stared.

“Trent Stadden is trying to recreate a family, wife and eight year old daughter included. My friend Delaney and the prison psychologist kid- they’re with him.”

Matt shut his eyes for a second, his teeth grinding together.

Callen’s phone went off and he quickly answered it. Nell was on the line.

“Brent Harrison picked up the DNA results all those years ago. Inconclusive, there was no match in the criminal data base,” She let out a sigh. “No relation to the girl though. It couldn’t have been Trent Stadden,” she paused a moment and it sunk into his mind. “G, the man really was innocent.”

“Thanks Nell,” he replied just before ending the call and shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Brent Harrison, you’re under arrest for evidence tampering, you have the right to remain silent...” Callen continued to read off the Miranda rights as Harrison protested angrily, defended his innocence and then changed his tune to threatening Callen, Deeks and Bernhart in turn saying he’d have their badges.

“You hid it,” Harrison said desperately looking at Bernhart. “You said so yourself. You’re with them. Get them to let me go or I swear I’ll take you down with me.”

Matt was quiet for a second as Callen fought to get the second clasp of the handcuffs onto the still struggling Harrison. The sound of it clicking into place gave Matt a sense of resolve. He pulled out his own cuffs and looked at them.

“We didn’t hear a thing Matt,” Callen tried, but he knew Harrison would pull his weight, he’d make good on what he’d threatened the long-time undercover specialist.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Matt said and before his hands could begin shaking he handed his cuffs to Deeks and turned around putting both hands behind his back. “The photographs are at my place. Office, filing cabinet, third drawer, red folder... Renko has a extra key.”

“Sorry,” Deeks said quietly as he put the cuffs onto the other officer.

“I made my decision years ago, I don’t regret it.... but I have to pay for it.”

The door opened but the words on Ava’s lips died as she took in the scene before her. Her mouth moved slightly as she tried to speak but could find no voice.

Matt averted his eyes and felt the wave of shame.

“What on Earth is going on?” Ava finally found her voice, and in it was panic, and anger. Callen just pushed Brent Harrison forward, and Deeks took Matt by the arm and started to lead him but Ava stepped into their way. “Matt?” she stood the until he sighed and his eyes finally turned to meet hers. “What is going on?”

“What does it look like?” Matt asked in return.

“It looks like you’re getting arrested.”

“It is what it is.”

She looked about ready to cry and Matt couldn’t understand it. He wasn’t that big of a part of her life. They worked together. He flirted with her, teased her, they were friends, sure... but was that really enough to prompt tears?

“What did you do?” she whispered.

He couldn’t answer anymore, he simply couldn’t so he started walking and Deeks fell into stride.

::

Deeks and Callen stood in the boatshed an hour after their trip to the precinct. “Bringing Harrison down doesn’t solve this,” Deeks said looking at the dual feeds on the television. Harrison was pacing in the first interrogation room. Bernhart was just sitting, his head bowed, hadn’t moved in the twenty minutes they’d been watching the screen.

“It proves that Stadden was innocent. I’ve already called Hetty, she’s making calls into LAPD, they’re going to re-open the investigation.”

“It’s nearly a decade old cold-case,” Deeks whispered as he sat down on the table, his feet up on a chair. “Odds are it’s going to go unsolved.”

Callen hated that, unsolved cases, justice unserved. He had already called Renko to inform him about Bernhart and the files. Renko had done some impressive cursing, Callen knew how close the two men were, how hard this would hit the other agent. “Right now, Harrison and the cold case isn’t our problem. We have to find Stadden, get Delaney and Kaylee Boone away from him.”

Sam walked into the boatshed and looked at Callen, his partner was tense, standing with his hands on hips. Turning slightly he gave a nod to Deeks who was sitting on the table. Sam then looked to the monitor. He felt bad, Bernhart had a way of getting things done, Renko himself had said that sometimes he skated the thin line, but he’d deliberately hid things in the investigation... Sam was a straight arrow, he couldn’t condone the detective’s decision.

“I got protection for Mark Boone,” Sam said cutting to the chase. “His cell phone is in ops with Eric, who’s enlisted Ty’s help.”

Callen nodded. “Good. Did you see Nate?”

“Yeah, I checked in with him before I left the hospital. He took a good knock to the head, Kensi’s there signing files for his release... I can’t recall ever seeing Nate angry- but he’s absolutely animate about getting out... he feels guilty about what happened to Delaney.”

“It’s not his fault,” Deeks said staring at the monitor.

“I’m sure he’d like to hear that from you,” Sam replied. “Because he’s getting eaten up by guilt. He was driving, he was suppose to protect her. As good as he is at putting the rest of us back together, he’s just as good at tearing himself apart.”

The door slammed open and everyone turned. “I think I poisoned the Pope or something in a past life,” Renko said. “And this life is just payback.”

“Bad day?” Callen needled.

“Bad week,” Renko replied on a huff as he stared at the monitor. “What the hell did he do?”

Callen took to retelling the story in it’s entirety, and Renko started pacing halfway through. “Christ,” he said when Callen finished, he shook his head.

“Yeah, we’ve had our hands full,” Callen said looking Renko over, the exhaustion in his friends eyes. “Looks like you have too.”

“It’s over,” Renko said with finality, his hand going over a bruise on his chest that had he have not been wearing kevlar, would instead be a hole. “It’s over,” he whispered again. “What do you guys need?”

“I think Bernhart might need someone to talk to. Might want to help him pick a lawyer.”

Renko cursed a few times. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He looked to Callen. “This is bad. He’s a cop. Way it’s going, he’s looking at prison time.”

Renko didn’t have to continue, Callen understood. Cops didn’t last long in prison. Still, there was nothing to say. Renko turned away and disappeared down the hall.

“He’ll deal with Bernhart, we need to work on Stadden,” Callen said as he looked to the monitor as Renko walked into the interrogation room with Bernhart. The detective looked up and then looked away from the agent.

“Where would he go?” Sam wondered out loud.

“He took a woman,” Nate said in the doorway. The agents turning quickly- there was a rule about calling first, apparently no one wanted to heed it. Kensi was right behind him. “To be a wife. He took a little girl to be a daughter. He’d want a house to be a home.”

“The house where he use to live?” Sam asked.

“No,” Nate shook his head. “His delusioned mind is trying to create something, same outline of his former life, but new.”

“Same kind of house in the same kind of neighbourhood?” Kensi suggested.

Nate shrugged. “Still too many possibilities.”

“I’ll get Nell working on it anyways,” Callen said taking out his phone.

“We have to find her,” Deeks barely whispered and yet, everyone heard it, and the lilt of pain in his voice.

“Martin, I am so sor-“

“Save it Doc,” Deeks got his feet back on the ground and stood. “You have no reason to apologise. Trent Stadden is the one in the wrong.”

“You asked me to keep her safe.”

“It was beyond your control.”

It did little to lessen the guilt, but to continue the conversation would be a waste of time, time that could be spent locating Delaney.

::

Time seemed to have slowed for her. She’d made a decision, to play into the man’s fantasy. Apart from that first moment of consciousness, he hadn’t hit her. She had to protect the little girl. She had to play it smart.

“Smells delicious,” Trent said with a smile upon his face.

“Spaghetti,” she responded forcing a smile upon her face. “Garlic bread too.” Delaney wasn’t much of a cook, it was one of the few recipes she knew off by heart.

His hands went to her hips and slid around her waist holding her from behind. “Excellent.”

Fear was twisting her stomach into knots. “Where is Kaylee? I should get her washed up for dinner.”

“I’ll get her,” Trent placed a kiss on her cheek and she was grateful she hadn’t flinched away.

Delaney looked over her shoulder as Trent walked away. He never gave her a moment alone with Kaylee. It was like he knew, because one thing was for certain. She wasn’t going to run away and leave that little girl in the hands of that madman!

She turned back to the boiling pot of sauce and gave it a good stir. Marty would find her, of this she was sure. She just had to sit tight, wait a little longer, play the dutiful housewife. It was hard. She was so worried, about Jackson, about Nate... about Marty. Her eyes stared to water and the first of the tears fell, but she was able to choke back the sobs.

“Delaney?”

She turned at the sound of his voice, too close. “Oh,” she let out a surprised gasp.

“Why the tears,” he wiped them away.

“Onions,” she lied with a smile. “I think I put in a few too many.” She looked down at the little girl who tilted her head, as if wondering where the defiance of before had gone. Delaney wished she could comfort the girl. “Wash up you two, dinner will be done soon.”

“Come on, Kaylee,” Trent said.

Kaylee followed, holding her doll close, but she looked over her shoulders to stare at Delaney who tried to give the little girl a reassuring smile.

::

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Retribution