Clowns to the Left of Me . . .

A/N: This story deals with Coulrophobia, the fear of clowns. If you know that clowns make you nervous, or even if you just do not like them, it may be better if you pass on this story.

A/N2: This is a one shot written for #SamAppreciationWeek on the NCIS:LA Magazine's website. The main story takes place prior to and during Season 5, Episode 24, "Deep Trouble" and some of the dialogue from that episode and previous episodes are used here. Parts of this story are condensed from other stories that I have already posted, especially "Seal of Approval". I want to thank Callen37 for overcoming her reluctance and working with me to help present my story.

A/N3: I own no part of the song "Stuck in the Middle with You". If you chose to listen to the whole song, it is my humble opinion that the Stealers Wheel version is the best.

Disclaimer: Thanks to Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan, for teaching me to play with the fantastic characters and sets that they have created. Since I don't own them, they made me promise that I return them by their curfew. Although they might be slightly (?) battered and bruised, I did send them home. All the other original characters that you do not recognize, are slaving away for me, trying to come up with an original idea for the next story that I might write.

Clowns to the Left of Me . . .

Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you

-Stealers Wheel

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2014

That's how they always went in. Deeks, the team clown, was off on Sam's left side. Callen, whose joking banter sometimes drove him to the brink of wanting to hit him, hard, was off on his right hand side. Of course he should be there, Sam had his back, was his right hand man, protecting his off side just like any partner would do. Sam was always in the middle, ready to go in either direction as needed. And coming up behind, was Kensi, or Nell while Kensi had been gone and even after she returned and still had to prove to Hetty that she was ready to come back to work after Afghanistan. This was the protected position, as the men looked at it, but the men would never say that to those two women. They explained it to the women that they were the only backup for the team. This was their normal way of approach. It was classic. It was safe. It worked.

Why in all the world didn't they do it that way? It would have taken just a few more minutes to wait for Kensi and Deeks to get there and help them check out the drug sub. Sam could see that Callen was getting impatient. He no longer wanted to wait for the two junior members of the team, who were stuck in traffic or having another one of their arguments about what level "their thing" had gotten to that day, or if it even existed.

By now Callen had climbed up onto the sub and was looking down the conning tower into its bowels. Sam could see the look on his face, the one that said to him, "Come on, let's do this."

Sam, the voice of Callen's conscience, yelled out to him, "G, don't do it. We gotta wait for backup."

But Callen, always having the tendency of going lone wolf, had already climbed up on top of the conning tower, looked at his partner and said, "What's the worst that can happen? We find a couple of drug runners on board, and take them in?" and with his gun drawn, dropped down into the sub.

Sam had to scramble to catch up. It would just be their luck to find the sub occupied, and after a running gun battle in which Callen got shot one more time, he would have to explain to Granger, not Hetty, why he wasn't there to protect him. Sam knew how Hetty would have acted, but Hetty was not longer there, having been recalled to Washington to give an account of her actions to her bosses. Everyone thought that it was all about the "White Ghost" incident in Afghanistan, but nobody, except maybe Granger, knew for certain. And since Granger had been put in charge of OSP, and Sam had already pissed the man off earlier, he didn't want to have to go in front of him and explain his actions.

Dropping down into the sub's control room, Sam was really surprised at how state of the art everything was. This was not something that was just cobbled together by a bunch of drug underlings. As the two agents worked themselves aft, Sam's feelings about the situation got worse and worse. The sub was packed, not with drugs, but with ammonium nitrate, bags and bags of the stuff. In 1995, terrorists used that fertilizer to blow up the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City.

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The day had started off as usual. They had no active case, so all the agents had tackled the mountain of paperwork that always seemed waiting for them. Eric came out of ops, looked over the edge of the balcony and said, "Guys, could you come up to ops? We caught a case", instead of his usual whistle. This must have been by order of the Temporary Operations Manager, Owen Granger.

When they were all assembled in ops, Nell and Eric led the briefing, like they always had done. A picture of a sprawled out body in uniform appeared on the plasma. "This is Lieutenant Commander Steven Hill, an engineering officer, formerly assigned to the nuclear sub USS Nebraska, one of the newer Virginia class subs. He has been missing for the past month" Eric informed them.

"This appeared on the web about an hour ago. Seems like there was a gang out for fun and games last night below the bridge, one of whose members shot this video on his phone," Nell continued. Eric brought the video up, showing a young man taking a drink from a bottle, and then breathing out a ball of fire, similar to the fire eaters in the circus. In the last few seconds, over his shoulder, the body of the Lieutenant Commander could be seen, falling the last few feet before he ht the ground. Everyone looked toward the top of the bridge, but the video showed no one looking over the edge.

""So, we're now supposed to investigate a suicide," Sam asked. 'Seems to me that there are other more important crimes that we could be working on," as he looked at Granger with a scowl on his face.

"I would be careful how far you question my choice of operations and my judgment in assigning teams to work the cases I choose. Please remember, Agent Hanna, and this goes for all of you as well, those who ignore the past are destined to repeat it. And you no longer have your little fairy godmother flitting around here to protect you and make things right at the end of the day. You are all on notice. We are now playing everything 'by the book', do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Callen answered for the whole team, "Yes, sir, ACTING Operations Manager, sir." his voice filled with sarcasm.

Then he became all businesslike as he turned toward the team and divided up the specific assignments to each of them. Orders given, everyone went to their assigned tasks.

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The Lieutenant Commander's murder led them to Charles Anderson, who owned a yacht building company. Drug dealers had forced him to design and build a submarine that could covertly haul drugs up from Colombia. Sam and Callen arrived at the dock first and started to check out the drug sub there. When Deeks and Kensi arrived there, they found nothing, no Sam, no Callen, no submarine. Further investigation at the site produced only one black plastic bag with some sort of residue on it. A quick taste test showed it was not any type of drug with which the two agents were familiar, so they took it back with them to the Mission to have it analyzed. The answer made stopping the submarine and getting their two agents back more important than just another drug case.

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1980

When Sam was eight years old, his auntie, Nettie Franklin, gave him a special treat. She brought his cousin Lionel over and picked him up to go to the circus. They took the subway and two different busses to get to where the circus was playing. They got there early, so that they could get good seats close to the front.

It was a whole lot of fun. The boys ate cotton candy, hot dogs, and shared a bag of peanuts with the elephants, throwing them into the ring that was closest to them. One of the clowns came out and whispered in the ringmaster's ear. The ringmaster took two steps forward and spoke into the microphone, "Chuckles the clown, has told me that one of the other clowns didn't show up today. Is there someone who would like to help us out and take his place?"

Both Sam and Lionel looked at auntie and asked with their faces if they could do it. She nodded her head and they joined all the others in raising their hands and shouting "Me, Me."

Chuckles went up to him and tugged at his sleeve. He put his other hand over the microphone as Chuckles whispered something else in his ear.

The ringmaster turned toward the crown and announced, "Chuckles said that it has to be a small child, maybe five to ten years old. Anyone like that out there that would want to do it?"

There were a lot less kids who were volunteering and shouting this time. The ringmaster put his microphone under his arm, put that hand over his eyes, stretched out his other arm with the index finger of his hand pointing at the crowd and spun around three times. When he was done, he was pointing right at Sam. He walked up to them and asked auntie if Sam could do it, and when she said yes, he asked his name. She told him and he announced that Sam, the new clown, would go with Chuckles to get ready for his performance.

Backstage, the other clowns helped Sam put on his clown costume. Sam really didn't like how the other clowns were turning him right and left, around and around, as fast as they could. First huge ears went on Sam with a piece of elastic that went over the top of his head and under his chin to hold them on. Over his hair they stuck an orange wig that made him look like his hair had not been cut for months. A floppy, red polka dotted costume was placed for him to step into, and when he had it on it was zipped up in the back. Huge rubber shoes were slipped over his own regular ones.

Then they started to work on his face. White grease paint was rubbed all over, giving him a ghostlike appearance. Huge orange eyebrows where drawn on over big blue eyes. A red dot was put in each cheek and he was given an upside down smile. His nose was encased in a big red rubber ball, and a blue teardrop on his right cheek completed the make over.

Then they led him to the clown car. The other clowns started piling into the car, arranging themselves the way they needed to get them all in. Finally it was Sam's turn. Jocko, got in right before him and helped him to place himself properly. Sam's head was turned off to the left side so that he would not smear his grease paint. His arms were folded up against his chest with his palms out. His legs were bent at the knees in order to fit him in completely. Jocko would tell him when it was time for Sam to get out. All he had to do was straighten his legs and push with his hands and he would just slide right out and then he could run around the car.

Sam really didn't know if he wanted to go through with this. His stomach was churning and there were people all around him pressing against him everywhere. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help, but when the car started moving, it just made his feelings worse. He opened his eyes and wished he wouldn't have. He saw Jocko, looking directly at him. Jocko had a bald rubber cap on, making his head look like a cue ball. He too, had white grease paint smeared on his face, but his eyes were elongated, going halfway to his ears. His nose looked like it wasn't there at all, but it was his mouth that was the most striking. It was HUGE. It looked like he had dozens of teeth behind the thin red top and bottom lips painted on his face. And when he opened his mouth to talk to Sam, it looked like he was going to bite his head off. He closed his eyes, but the image still stayed with him.

The clown car finally stopped. Clowns got out. Jocko shook his shoulder and told him it was his turn to leave. Sam looked at him again. He still looked like he was going to chew his head off. Sam jumped out of the car and looked around for auntie. Seeing her sitting there, he ran to her, tearing off the wig, ears, and nose, throwing each piece over his shoulder, and screaming , "Noooooooo."

The ringmaster tried to make it appear as if it was all part of the act, as he announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for Sam, the reluctant little clown." The audience clapped as Sam pushed his face deeper and deeper into auntie's chest, begging her to keep the clowns away. He kept his face hidden while the clowns performed, refusing to look at any of them. About ten minutes later, one of the female trapeze artists in her lovely, blue flyer outfit, came over with a towel to help him wipe all the grease paint off his face, and to collect the rest of the clown costume. She assured auntie that things sometimes went like that, and she hoped that Sam was okay.

Sam was never okay after that. His fear of clowns would stay with him for the rest of his life, especially when he was in dark, tightly closed off areas.

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1992

Sam had accomplished his dream. He was a US Navy SEAL. He had been appointed to a SEAL team and they had been given their first official mission.

When the unit had been sent into Bosnia, the whole SEAL team had been divided up and sent out to locate and capture Serbian war criminals, members of the Жуте осе, Žute ose (Yellow Wasps) a paramilitary group that was one of three responsible for the "ethnic cleansing" and looting of Zvornik. This terrorist group did not target just Bosniaks, the Bosnian Muslims, but anyone rich, including Serbs. They captured the Serbian mayor of Zvornik and tried to take control of the town using weapons from the territorial defence force. The Bosnian Serbs arrested them and sent them back to Serbia, but they soon returned.

The SEALS had been broken down into two man teams to gather information about people who went missing, reports of massacres, mass graves, anything that could be described as a war crime. Bryan Dickerson was the SEAL that had been partnered with Sam. The two of them were tracking down a report of a mass grave filled with murdered Muslims. What it really turned out to be was a trap set by Serbian paramilitary members that wanted to gain more status with the higher ranking members of the "Yellow Wasps".

Sam and Dickerson were captured and tortured. Sam was severely beaten and Bryan was shot. The Serbs didn't want to kill the two Americans until they had fully interrogated them and found out everyone who was on their wanted lists. Out in the woods, there wasn't anywhere to confine their prisoners, so they took a two door metal locker and dug a shallow grave, then threw the SEALs into the locker and buried them alive along with all the other bodies.

Sam tried to help Dickerson. "I'm gonna try to push the top up and see if I can bend it open."

He strained as hard as he could, but the weight of the dirt on top of the doors was just too much for him to push through. He knew that Bryan was bleeding out, but the close confinement of their prison left him with little that he could do. Sam tried to wad up part of Brian's shirt and then put the other man's hand over the wound. "Try to keep some pressure on it. Okay?' he begged.

Dickerson coughed deeply as he tried to speak, "Why? What are you doing?"

Sam broke into his own fit of coughing, The air was really getting thin in their metal grave. "I'm trying to get us some air." he said as he tried to poke a tube up through the dirt to the surface of the ground.

When Sam felt no more resistance on the tube, he tried to suck some air through it. It was fresh air, but he was only able to draw so very little through the small tube. He told Brian about his little success, "It's work...It's working a little." Sam passed the tube to Brian, feeling his face so he could put it in the other SEAL's mouth. "Here, try to take a breath." he told him.

Brian refused offering Sam a reason for his actions, "The best thing I can do for you is die fast."

Sam was having none of it, "Try to take a breath," he begged Bryan.

"No, Sam," Bryan answered him, "I save you... You save...someone else... That's how...it's supposed...to work.

Sam knew that Bryan didn't have much time left, so he tried to order him to hold on, "Bryan, I said, take...a...breath."

The final answer that Bryan gave him told Sam that all his begging, pleading, and ordering was in vain. Bryan knew his end was here and he was trying to make it as painless as possible for the newest member of the team. He whispered his final words, "Sam... You would do the same for me."

Sam didn't know how much time he lay there, trying to get Bryan to help save himself. Finally, he dug in his pocket, found his one last match and lit it. Bryan was gone. As gentle and tender as he could, Sam reached across to Bryan's face and closed the dead man's eyes.

And that's when he saw him, laying on the other side of Bryan, in a space that couldn't have been there, Jocko raised his head and turned to look at Sam. Sam dropped the match, and Jocko was gone, but Sam had something more to worry about than laying next to a dead body, waiting to be found by someone who would get him out of there.

Sam was ultimately rescued by other members of the team. He wanted to stay with the body of Bryan, so both of them were rushed to a medical facility. Sam was treated and released and Bryan's body was shipped home and buried at Arlington, with full military honors. Sam had requested leave to attend the funeral, but was denied. When he found out what happened at the war crimes trial of the "Yellow Wasp" leaders, Sam began to wonder if Jocko appeared to him to show him just how senseless Bryan's death was.

The Vuckovic brothers who led the "Yellow Wasps" were arrested by the Serbian Interior Ministry on 5, November, 1993. Duško was charged with killing sixteen civilians and wounding another twenty in June, 1992, and raping and robbing a Bosniak woman in the village of Radalj in Serbia. Vojin was charged with illegal possession of arms and falsely identifying himself as a police officer. The indictment stated that the brothers had volunteered to help the Serbs in Bosnia and Herzegovina after the war erupted.

The trial was a joke. It was held in Serbia so any Serbian government involvement in the crimes was not investigated. The prosecution team was so incompetent, they failed to present any evidence of wrongdoing. Witnesses did not appear. One of the judges showed that he supported the actions of the Vučković brothers, and on the third day of the trial, defense lawyers announced that both brothers had already been tried and found not guilty by a military court in Banja Luka for war crimes allegedly committed in Bijeljina. The court was dismissed, the presiding judge fell ill and the trial was then postponed indefinitely.

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2001

The very first time that Sam met Callen, Jocko was there. Sam and his fellow SEAL, Gregg Norris, were ordered to pull two CIA spooks out of Tripoli in Libya. Each of the two SEALs made their way to one of the two possible safe houses, but only one was occupied. Callen was the only one of the two CIA agents left alive, and Sam found him in the hole in the ground that the CIA jokingly called a safe house. Saying the agent was alive was only a relative term, for he was too badly injured to move. Gregg returned from checking the other safe house, and confirmed Sam's opinion of the wounded agent.

Callen had a concussion, and an infected wound on his upper right arm that was causing his high fever. To say that the wound was infected was like saying kids like ice cream and candy. Maggots were feasting away on the wound, and Sam hated maggots, whether they were gorging away on garbage or dead bodies. There were also some twenty-five to thirty shards of glass embedded in his back that had to be dug out. When he finally passed out, his dreams gave his no rest. The look of agony that stayed on his face spoke of the hell he was going through in his nightmares.

Sam spent three days trying to stabilize him. Callen was so far out of it that he didn't know Sam was trying to help him, and tried to fight him as much as he could. Finally, Sam could not wait any longer. He put Callen in his lap, and had Gregg seal the two of them into a crate that was supposed to contain machinery. They were loaded onto a truck, driven down to the dock and placed on a trawler. Callen was unconscious for most of the trip. Unfortunately, he came to just as they were entering the dock area and having their papers checked by the port police. Callen started to moan, and Sam did the only thing he could think of, put a sleeper hold on the agent.

If it was properly applied, the hold Sam used could lead to unconsciousness in a matter of a few seconds. But if the victim struggled at all, it could turn into a choke hold, or if it were held too long, it would keep the blood from the brain, and the person could suffer a stroke or be brain injured. Sam guessed at how long to keep the hold applied, because he couldn't see anything inside the crate. He knew the agent was still alive after his body went slack, because Sam could feel his pulse.

But all of a sudden an eerie light broke out in the crate. Not knowing where it came from, and fearing that it would give the two of them away, Sam looked over Callen's shoulder to see what was causing it. What he saw shook him to his very core. There was the phosphorescent head of Jocko the clown, spreading his light throughout the crate. Evidently he was the only one to see it, because the port police ordered them to go to their destination on the docks. Sam feared that the outcome would be the same for the agent as it was for his SEAL partner in Bosnia. After Jocko's head disappeared, Sam held the man in his lap as close to himself as he could, continuously willing the man to stay alive until the doctors on board the ship could help him.

Sam asked about the agent when they were transferred to the ship, and the agent was taken to the surgical sick bay. He was told that no such agent ever existed and no one had any idea what he was talking about.

But Jocko knew, and all he did was just smile.

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2009

Sam had just dropped Callen off a block away from his small apartment above the travel office, since they had finished work for the day. Callen jokingly said that it might be time to move, because he felt someone was watching him. Sam quipped that maybe it was the Russian girl Callen had mentioned that he had seen a couple of times in the neighborhood,. In the back of his mind, however, he had a tiny suspicion it was someone, or rather, something else. Sam started the Challenger and waited for traffic to go past before he was going to pull out to drive home. The panel van sped past him, and he wondered why someone would be racing down the street like that. Then he saw the side door open and a man with an automatic weapon getting ready to fire. Sam got out to race to his partner.

"G," he yelled, but Callen was looking at that Russian girl.

Five bullets stitched through Callen's body, spinning him around and driving him to the ground.

Sam got to the spot, fired a couple of rounds at the fleeing van, then went down on one knee to scoop up his bullet ridden partner, begging him to stay with him. He got out his phone and demanded that an ambulance be sent to Ocean Front and Rose in Venice. Dropping the phone, he did a quick assessment of Callen's wounds and used his hand to try to hold back the blood from the two worst ones that were pumping out his partner's life onto the ground.

Sam started looking around, trying to will the ambulance to get there faster. That's when he saw Jocko, standing along the edge of the gathering crowd, that huge grin on his face. Sam wanted to draw his gun again and kill the clown, but he knew that Callen would be dead by the time he could get his hands back on Callen's chest to try to stop the bleeding. Score another one for the damn clown.

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2010

Sam had been working with Junior Special Field Agent Dominic Vail ever since he arrived at the Mission. Even though he was partnered with Kensi Blye, Sam continued the basic agent training that Dom had received at FLETC, because the former SEAL knew that the better trained that Dom was, the better he could protect himself, his partner, and the team. Dom is not a native of Los Angeles, so he had to learn how the city operated, in addition to what Sam was teaching him. The young man was intelligent, graduating from MIT with advanced skills in electronics and computers, but he had no street smarts. This is what Sam was trying to teach the young agent, but then Dom went missing, captured by the Colombians for the terrorist group Talib al Jihadiya. They wanted to exchange him for Ala A Din Keshwar, rumored to have been captured by one of the federal agencies.

The team finally got a lead on the captured agent when there was a deadline set for his execution. They were completely surprised to learn that he was being held in downtown Los Angeles. One of the terrorists holding Dom helped him escape, just as the rest of the team started checking out the building. They found him on the roof, where a major fire fight with the terrorists broke out. Sam got Dom to a place of safety, but then another terrorist appeared behind them. Dom stood up and the bullets that were originally intended to cut Sam down, ripped through the young agent's body. Dom had sacrificed himself to save Sam's life. Sam shot the terrorist and called for a medical evac to try to save Dom. Sam dropped to his knees and tried doing CPR, but Callen told him that the young man was gone, and all he was doing was pumping the blood from his body. Sam finally gave in to reality, completely grief-stricken, like the rest of the members of his team. When he finally looked up, he saw Jocko peering around the air handler unit, before he disappeared.

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2013

Sam had talked to Nate Getz as part of his therapy after the torture he received in the Sidorov case.

It was getting so bad that Sam could not even go into Mickey Dee's, because he might be confronted with an image of Ronald McDonald, and have to leave before the symptoms got too much for him. For Sam these symptoms included sweating, nausea, feelings of dread, and an elevated heartbeat. He had managed to control his crying and screaming when encountering clowns. But he wanted to get rid of, or at least manage, all of the symptoms.

In his line of work he could not avoid all these events where someone's life was so violently taken away from them, or was brought to the brink of the edge of life and death. He had to find some way of dealing with seeing Jocko at all these events.

"Sam, just why do you think you don't like clowns, apart from that incident in your childhood"

"This is really gonna sound stupid, Doc, considering what we do and who we have to become to do our jobs."

"I'm not following you."

"It's just that clowns are always wearing disguises. They might look funny or even cute, but you can't really see their faces, so you can't tell who they really are. Behind the mask, no one knows what is really going on. Clowns have their emotions painted on. It might be mean or funny, but it usually is completely artificial. They can sit back behind that mask and completely hide their true feelings."

"On the contrary, Sam, it makes a whole lot of sense. You deal with people who lie to you each and every day. Your team has to find out what is the truth of what they say and what is not. You are always trying to get behind the mask, to find out what is behind the disguise. You have to find out what they are really feeling, so that you can find out how to get the information that you need."

"Okay, Doc. You've explained the reasoning behind it. How do I deal with it when I encounter it here at the Mission or out in the field?"

"Well, normally I would advise someone to just avoid any situation where they would encounter clowns. You know, don't go to the circus, don't read the Steven King novel or watch the movie "It", things like that. But you can't really do that. You visualize the clown, when you are dealing with people who show the characteristics of a clown in their real life."

Nate looked down at his file and then asked Sam,"How old were you when you first saw this clown?"

"I was eight years old. My auntie took us to the circus back in Brooklyn."

"And how old do you think that clown that scared you was then?"

"I don't know. To a kid even thirty was old."

"And that was what, some forty years ago?"

"Yeah, just a little more than that."

"So this clown would be some seventy years old, if you would meet him today."

"Yeah, that would be about right."

"So what do you have to fear from him?" Are you afraid that a seventy year old man is gonna harm you? I've seen you in action, and I don't think that would ever happen, Sam. So whenever you come in contact with him again, think of him as an old, old man who could never actually hurt you. If you stare him down, like I know you can do, you won't lose control, you won't panic, you won't embarrass yourself, and other people will never know that you once feared clowns."

"Okay, Doc, I will try it your way the next time I come in contact with him. I really hope it works."

"Trust me, Sam. If you really look at Jocko as a tired, old man, it will work for you."

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2014

Sam saw Jocko when they were in Afghanistan. He was part of the Taliban group that who had captured both Kensi and Jack. The team had tailed the terrorist group until they were almost in Pakistan. They finally caught up to the terrorists, and tried to buy the two captive's freedom. The terrorists figured that if they killed the team, they could have the money and the captives. The ensuing fire fight was not going well for Sam and his group. There were too many terrorists and too little ammunition. Jocko joined the group charging up the hill. Then he stopped, turned around, and made his way back down. The helicopter flew overhead, offering the trade of the Iman for the two captives. Deeks had worked out a way to save them. Sam later said jokingly that Jocko, the old clown left, because Deeks, the new clown was on the scene.

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2014

In the sub, Sam kept looking around for Jocko. He knew that if he did not see him, that was no guarantee that the two agents were out of trouble. Jocko could appear at any moment, usually waiting until the worst possible moment before he would show up. Sam was beginning to wonder if his fears were so great that he was subconsciously willing the clown to appear. He would have to ask Nate about that the next time he saw him. That was, if they could find some way to get out of their underwater prison. Then suddenly, Jocko was there. Instead of turning away in fear, Sam stared the apparition down, telling himself softly, "He isn't real. He is NOT real." Jocko's image slowly faded away. Score one for Nate and Sam.

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Sam heard some pounding on the sub wall. Someone was sending them a message by Morse Code.

.- - - . -. - .. - -. .- - - . -. - .. - -. -.. - -. - - .- - .-. .-. -.- .- . .- .. .-.. .-.. .- - - . - .-. - .- .-. . ... -.-. ..- . -.. - -.- - ..- ..- -. -.. . .-. ... - .- -. -.. ..-.. [Attention, Attention, Do not worry. We will attempt a rescue. Do you understand?]

Sam went to the wall of the sub and started pounding out a return message,

..- -. -.. . .-. ... - - - -.. -..- .- ... .- - ... ... - ..- .-.. -.. .. -.. - ..-.. [Understood, What should I do?]

.- ... .- - .-. .- .-. - - ..-. - ... . ... ..- -... .- .-. . -.- - ..- .. -. ..-.. [What part of the sub are you in?]

.- . .- .-. . - .-. .- .-. .-. . -.. .. -. - ... . -... - .- .-.-.- - .- - .- -. . -. - ... .-.-.- [We are trapped in the bow. Two agents.]

... - .- -.- .- ... . .-. . -.- - ..- .- .-. . .-.-.- .- . .- .. .-.. .-.. -. . - -.- - ..- - ..- - .-.-.- [Stay where you are. We will get you out].

Sam looked at Callen and said, "SEALs to the rescue. This has all the markings of the wonder twins."

All of a sudden there was a lurch, and the sub had lost all of its forward momentum. About five minutes later there was the sound of flash-bangs going off in the control compartment of the sub. Then a couple of shots and then nothing.

Someone was pounding on the hatch before opening it. A voice with a thick accent shouted out, "Agents, are you okay? The terrorists have been neutralized. We will open the hatch now. Be warned, there still is a lot of tear gas in the control area."

The hatch opened up and the two agents saw their rescue team. Sam's jaw dropped. They weren't SEALs. He recognized the equipment that the men were using. It was Russian.

They had no time to talk. Sam and Callen were hurried onto deck and quickly transferred to what looked like a Russian trawler. They each were given water and a blanket, and watched from the deck as the narco sub was secured by a tow line to their rescue vessel. Going below, they had a whole bunch of questions that needed to be answered.

After they were both checked out by the ship's medical officer, they were ushered into the captain's quarters. "I am Aleksey Zaytesev, the captain of this vessel. I'm sure you have many questions that you want to have answered. I do not know the answers to all of them. I was just told to do this mission and rescue the two of you. Any further answers you will have to get from Arkady Kolcheck. It seems that he is a friend of yours."

Neither agent could get any more answers from the captain, except that they were to meet a US Navy ship and transfer the two of them and the drug sub over to the Navy. Sam could tell that the captain was not happy with those orders, but being a military man, and he was, his bearing and conduct spoke much more than his words did, he would follow his orders.

)( )( )( )( )( )(

Just before the transfer took place, Sam looked around trying to see if he could find Jocko, but there was nothing but open water around the trawler. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe all he had to do is stare down the clown and Jocko would disappear and not bother him. If he did it enough, he might be permanently freed from his fear of this clown. Maybe he should try that same solution with Deeks. Who knows, it just might work.