A/N: This is a one shot written for #CallenAppreciationWeek on the NCIS:LA Magazine's website. The main story takes place before, during, and after 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. I want to thank Callen37 for her faith in me and continuing help, including her tutoring me with my Russian to help present my story.
A/N #2: This is my final installment for the series of stories that comprised the 8 #-AppreciationWeeks on the NCIS:LA Magazine's website. I hope you get to read, not just mine, but all the fabulous stories that were written for this challenge. I have read some of the other stories, and they are great. I want to publicly thank those who wrote them and pushed me to help me be a better writer, as well as those who read my stories and shared their thoughts on them. Thank you all for a very great summer.
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.
Summary: G. Callen, the ultimate lone wolf, had become the leader of the team that Hetty had built up around him. Each of these people were one of the best at what they did, and combined they had become the interlocking pieces in a team that carried out the jobs nobody else could do. Now he has to decide if he is going to dissolve this family and go back to his old ways. Will he do it or keep the team intact?
From Lone Wolf to Leader of the Pack
G. Callen didn't do partners. Every time he was partnered up on a CIA operation, something eventually went wrong, and people ended up badly hurt or dead. The only one he ever worked with where things didn't blow up in his face was Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a former Marine who became his mentor at NCIS. Gibbs was now was NCIS Special Agent in Charge of the Major Case Response Team in Washington, DC., the team Callen was on before being reassigned to Los Angeles.
Callen was more of a lone wolf, and was very good at it. He had taught himself to speak Polish, Russian, German and Czech, so he could infiltrate almost any country in Eastern Europe. He was incredibly patient; put him next to a statue and you would swear that the statue would move first. And when he did move, it was like a ghost viewed out of the corner of your eye; now you see it, now it's gone, making you wonder if it really ever was there at all. He could take on almost any persona and pull it off without a hitch. Even, on that very rare occasion, when his cover was blown, he usually was able to save the mission.
And now, as he looked around the table, he saw, not just his partner, but almost everyone that comprised the main team of the Office of Special Projects, working for the Naval Criminal Investigative Services. The only one missing was Hetty, their former Project Manager. Callen spent extra time, looking at each member sitting there, knowing that with what he had to tell them, this might be the very last time that they gathered together like this.
This was supposed to have been a belated victory celebration. But for Callen it really felt more like a wake. And the sad thing was that Callen knew what each of their answers would be when he would finally ask them the ultimate question. They would, each of them, back him to the hilt. They were his team. Their loyalty to him, to Hetty, to the team, to each other, could never be questioned. They each would go through hell or high water for him. In Afghanistan it was the hell and with this drug sub it was the high water. Each one had proved themselves, over and over again.
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He looked at the members of his family, gathered around him, and delving deep in his memories, he thought of the first time he laid eyes on each of them as a member of his team.
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Eric Beale was the first member of the team he met. Hell, he was the whole team before Callen arrived that morning to take the freight elevator to the third floor of the old factory building that housed the Office of Special Operations. Callen had been scheduled to meet with Lara Macy, to deliver to her the paperwork that would transfer him from the Major Case Response Team in Washington to her newly developed unit. The sharp-witted woman was on an "eyes only" conference call with SECNAV, so Eric was the only one left to meet him.
Callen did an instant assessment of the man in front of him and wondered what his job was in this unit. His handshake was firm, but the agent could tell that there was no real power in the muscles of Eric's arms.
"Hi, I'm Eric Beale. I'm the tech operator here. Mace will be with you as soon as she's done with SECNAV."
"I'm Callen..."
"Yeah, I know, G. Callen, Ex CIA, ex DEA, ex Senior Agent for Gibbs," I found out all I could about you to pass it on to Mace. You can wait over there for her. I have to get back to work." and with that he turned around, and disappeared into a different part of the building.
Callen had some reservations about this man knowing as much as he did about him, but over the years of working with him, he learned to rely upon the man's skills to dig up everything he could and share it with those who needed it.
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The next member that was added to the team was Sam Hanna. Callen had worked a few cases at OSP on his own, but then Hetty came and gave him an ultimatum. Callen had Eric draw up a list of candidates and it was narrowed down to five men who were invited in for a personal interview. Sam, the ex-SEAL, was the best match, but Callen had a personal reason for not selecting him that went back to his CIA days in Libya. Finally Hetty laid down the law to him.
"You have a deadline of noon tomorrow to decide who will be your partner here at OSP," Hetty declared.
"And if I don't meet your deadline?" Callen asked.
"Then I will have to decide which of the two options I would have to follow." She said as she ticked them off on her fingers. "One, I find a new Special Agent in Charge, and you will be reassigned to some other office. Or Two, I completely shut down the Office of Special Projects, and you will still be assigned to some other office. The only way of you staying here is if you choose a partner for you to work with. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Callen?"
With Callen as the Agent in Charge and Sam as his partner, OSP was becoming a formidable place to work.
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Kensi Blye walked into the boat shed, as bad-assed confident as she could possibly be. Just from the first few seconds of looking at her, Callen knew that this was a woman that would not be messed with, but he also knew that there was something underneath to force her into that hard exterior appearance. He and Sam watched as Hetty offered Kensi a job a way that only Hetty could.
"Ms. Blye, I have had my eye on you for the last several years."
Kensi's defenses went up immediately. "And why were you watching me, Ms Lange?"
"First of all, please call me Hetty. And to answer your question, to find out if you are good enough to be offered a job on my team." Knowing the agent as he did now, Callen was surprised that Kensi didn't walk out when Hetty said, "if you're good enough". There was very little at which Kensi didn't think she was the best, and Callen would have to agree with her assessment of herself in many of those areas.
"And what is it exactly that you do, that I should want a job with you?"
"We are a section of Naval Criminal Investigative Services. This is the Office of Special Projects. We do the jobs that are 'different', the ones other groups don't want to or cannot do." Hetty went on to describe the work that she would be doing as an NCIS agent.
When she was done, Kensi just asked her, "Where do I sign?"
Hetty looked up at the camera and said, "Mr. Callen, Mr Hanna, can you bring in those things I left with you right now?"
The two agents came in and placed the paperwork, badge, and holstered gun on the table in front of her and introduced themselves.
Shaking both their hands, she just said, "It's Kensi, Kensi Blye."
Hetty got up to go, "I will leave you three to become acquainted. Ms. Blye, in three weeks you go for agent training at FLETC in Glynco, Georgia. In the meantime, you will train with Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna. I suggest that you train hard with these two men and learn all you can from them. They are two of the best agents that NCIS has." And after Kensi tore up the traing course at FLETC so well that they wanted her to stay and teach there, the two best agents NCIS had increased to three.
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Deeks was the last one to come in that morning. He was yawning as he sat down at the one desk that didn't have a load of paperwork on it.
"The desk is taken, Deeks. You can't sit there." Sam said gruffly.
"Excuse me" Sam continued, as he placed Dom's bobble head in a prominent spot in front of the detective.
Hetty appeared, as silently as ever. "Mr. Hanna," she said, "I asked Detective Deeks to sit there." and she motioned the detective to sit back down with her fingers. "I did so politely. Detective Deeks has been appointed our L.A.P.D. liaison, filling a chair that, though taken, has been vacant for some time."
Callen welcomed him aboard. Somehow he saw the same lost look in his eyes that he saw every morning in his own mirror, and made a mental note to ask him how long he was in the system.
Deeks thanked him, grateful that someone was accepting of him.
But Sam continued to needle him, "So you're sort of a temp," as he thought about Dom, whom he felt should be the occupant of the desk.
"Temp. Yeah, I like that. See with cops, having a negative nickname's a good thing." Sam thought that this just confirmed his opinion of the shaggy haired man, he was nothing more than a clown, who couldn't take anything seriously.
Kensi got the news that Deeks was joining the team from Eric. She couldn't beleive what she heard and asked the tech, "Deeks? Really?"
Eric answered her in the same calm, informative voice he used to convey information to the team when they were in the field, "Deeks. Really. L.A.P.D. liaison."
Kensi still wondered why this was taking place. "That's the best they could do?" she asked.
Just then Deeks walked into ops to join them. Kensi sure hoped that he didn't hear her last remark, "Oh, hello. Deeks." she greeted him.
"Hey, Kensi" he responded, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
But then he continued, "oh, and...ah...it's the best they can do." He took no offense at her comment, because he felt it was true. His thinking might have been a bit egotistical, but he knew that he was the best undercover cop that currently worked at L.A.P.D.
"Sorry," Kensi felt she needed to apologize for her comment, thinking he had been upset with her for making it.
"Forgiven," Deeks told her, because he would show them that he was at least their equal and make them admit that he really was good, very good. And with almost every case they were on, this was exactly their impression of their liaison officer.
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Callen was on medical leave for the first week that Nell Jones was employed at the Office of Special Projects, and Hetty had told him that she did not want to see him near the Mission "or else". He did not have any idea what the "or else" would be, and he had not intention of finding out. So for him the first actual meeting with Nell was midmorning of his first day back, when a piercing whistle called the agents up to ops. Callen looked and saw this red headed girl with pixie cut hair pulling one finger of each of her hands out of her mouth. Behind her Eric looked on in exasperation. Even Hetty stopped her ascent up the stairs in surprise.
When the all assembled upstairs, Eric started the briefing, but Nell kept jumping in and finishing all of his sentences.
He called up an image on the plasma as he spoke,"Corporal Thomas Porter, stationed out of Camp Pendleton, a security guard discovered his body. It was-."
Nell jumped in, "...was in the parking garage of the Beverly Hills Rodeo Collection."
Eric tried to continue, "His hand is missing, what's not is his watch, car keys, and wallet which was full of-."
Nell jumped in again, "Cash and credit cards."
Hetty tried to make her own assessment of the case. "Corporal Porter was an administrative clerk in Camp Pendleton's G-2 office."
But Nell apparently didn't know when to quit. She sounded like a teacher telling her students something that was so obvious that they should all have known it, as she looked at Hetty and said, "Everyone in that office has top secret security clearance, even clerks."
Everyone had a look of surprise on their face and then Hetty followed up "I was just getting to that, Ms. Jones. But thank you."
Hetty looked like she had smelled something that disagreed with her very much the way she wrinkled her nose. Nell had a satisfied smile on her face.
Callen looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and wondered how long Hetty would allow this to go on. It really seemed to him like Hetty was wondering if she had made a big mistake with letting Nell join the team. Hetty had a bad history of working with political analysts. They never stayed long, because they always seemed to rub her the wrong way, and Nell seemed to be fast approaching Hetty's limit
Then the diminutive analyst nearly got herself instantly transferred in full arctic survival gear to someplace like Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Before Hetty could leave, Nell rushed up to her and said, "I understand that you're a tea drinker."
Hetty turned around, a slight scowl still on her face.
The young woman then offered up a quote by Bernard-Paul Heroux, "There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be diminished by a nice cup of tea." Hetty just raised an eyebrow, turned and walked out.
Callen was mentally shaking his head. It was obvious that Hetty really wanted this young woman on the team. No one else that he knew of would have ever had the audacity to do something like this. Even if Nell had a smoking gun that incriminated Hetty in a major crime like espionage or treason, or if Nell could prove that Hetty was the killer of the last twenty-five people that had disappeared on her watch, Hetty would not have put up with that. Hetty must have had some big plans for Miss Nell Jones. Callen still did not know what Hetty had planned for Nell, but he was beginning to see the huge potential that was packed into that little body with the big mind.
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Callen got up, raised his beer, and said, looking at each one of them again, "A toast. ...To the members of the team here, coworkers, friends, family, may we always remain as we are now, unharmed in body or mind, and victorious against all our enemies; ...and to the members of our team who are not here at the moment, Hetty, Nate, may they be kept safe and returned to us in as good a health as they left; ...and to the members of our team, who are no longer with us, Dom, Macy, Renko, Sullivan, may they rest in peace, but always remain in our memory."
Each one of them raised their drink, and offered their approval, saying, "Hear, Hear," "Cheers," or "Salute."
Callen raised his eyes, as if he were calling on every deity he knew for strength. He looked at his team again and said in a very subdued voice. "That was the easy part. Now I'm gonna tell you the toughest thing that I have ever had to say to any of you."
The members of his team looked at each other with a questioning look on their faces, wondering what he could be talking about.
Callen started to talk again, "Before any of you start to guess, I am going to Washington to get Hetty back. If I can get her to return, things will go back to normal, for all of us. If she cannot or will not return with me..." there was a long moment of hesitation in his voice as he drew a deep, painful breath, "...I will not be returning to NCIS either." There, he got it out, and everyone was asking each other in loud whispers what he was talking about.
"You heard me right," Callen said, quieting their whispers. "If those who are trying to railroad Hetty out of her position here cannot be stopped, and Hetty cannot return, I will resign my position here at NCIS. I don't know if I will accept a job with any other federal agency. I may go freelance, or rent myself out to some of our allies in Europe. I will no longer work for an agency in which I have no faith."
All of them heard his words and immediately assured him that they would join him in this quest.
Hearing what they were saying, and knowing how loyal they were to him as their leader, he held up both his hands and said to them. "No, this is not something in which you can join me. It's not like when we followed Hetty to Romania. It's something that I have to do by myself. If I think that any of you can help me in any way, I will find a way to get a message to you telling you what I need, but remember, if I resign, you are under no obligation to help me once I go 'lone wolf' again."
"Why now, G?" Sam asked with a hurt look on his face and a tremor in his voice.
"Earlier today I got to read through all of the action reports that each and every one of you wrote for Granger for this last case we had with the drug sub. Everything looked pretty straight forward, nothing out of the ordinary, just typical action reports. I know that I had asked each of you to write up a second action report on what you thought really happened on that case and give it to Nell. She gave me a thumb drive with those reports on it. The more I read the more pissed I got. Granger just had one idea in his head, and he was gonna make everything fit into his pattern of thinking. I'm just glad that you all were thinking outside the box. If you wouldn't have done it, Sam and I would not be here right now."
"So what does that mean, G?" Sam voiced the question that was on each of their minds.
"This unit cannot survive under constraints like that. Look what it did to all of you. Nell had to run an operation while trying to keep everything away from where Granger could see it. Eric had to go out into the field to do everything at the Russian version of ops, although I heard it was a very plesant duty, right Eric?"
Eric's face broke into a deeper shade of red than the dress Nell had on. Callen winked at him and then continued.
"Kensi, you had Granger place Talia in charge of the operation, as if you just didn't count, and you had to make nice with her conclusions, on Deeks and on the case. And you, Deeks, even though you might have loved two drop-dead gorgeous women constantly fighting over you, I would imagine that near the end, you felt like the cartoon fish skeleton with two cats fighting each other over who would get to take you home and devour you." Deeks raised his eyebrow and gave Callen a sickly little smile that said, "Oh, you are sooo right."
"So what you're saying, Callen, is that we need to get Hetty back in order for us to function again?" Nell asked.
"No, Nell. I need to go and get Hetty back. Then maybe we can get this team back to the level that it once had. If I can't, then each of you will have to decide for yourselves just how you are gonna go on from there. I don't wanna go into it any further. If I can get Hetty back, none of this means anything. I just am sorry that I turned this celebration into such a downer, but it was the only time that I could talk to you all at the same time away from the office."
Callen sat down and finished his beer. He could see the anxiety on all of their faces as they tried to digest what he had told them. Sam excused himself to go home and tell Michelle all that had happened this evening. Callen asked Nell and Eric if he could talk to them just a bit more, and Kensi and Deeks used that as their call to leave the three of them there at the table.
"So, what do you need from us, Callen?" Eric asked.
"First of all, I need you, Nell, to go through some of Hetty's old files, to see if you can find anything embarrassing to Vance, SECNAV, POTUS, anyone high in government. I don't want anything that can put our national security at risk, just something that would give them a black eye if it were to get out to the public. If I can't get Hetty back, I want some leverage to try to blackmail the powers that be into stopping this witch hunt, almost similar to what Snowdon is doing to the NSA right now.
"I can do that, but how do I get them to you?" Nell asked.
"You don't. You get them to Eric, and Eric gets them to Svetlana, and she leaks them to the public. I trust that the two of you could bounce the signal with these files off towers in so many countries that no one could find out where they originated."
Eric looked at Callen with a huge smile on his face and said, "Why don't you give me something hard to do."
"Okay, here is the tough part." Callen handed him a small piece of paper. On it were two names with addresses and short biographies for each one. "I need for you to check these people out, to see if they still are at the addresses listed, everything you can find out about them. And Eric, this is personal, for my eyes only, and just as fast as you can tomorrow."
"You got it." the young man replied.
"Now the two of you go on home. It's getting late and I don't imagine tomorrow is gonna be fun for any of us." With that Callen threw a few bills on the table for the tip and then went up to settle the account at the bar before he left.
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The following morning Callen arrived after everyone else was there. The first thing he did was to go up to ops and ask Eric if he had any information for him. Eric handed him a piece of paper with a couple of addresses. Callen looked at it and asked, "Are you sure about the first one?"
Eric said, "I checked it a couple of times. There is no doubt about it. That is the place."
"Okay, Eric. Thanks. And could you forget about this?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Callen."
"Thanks, Eric."
"Callen, take this." Nell told him as she slipped him another phone. "It's one of the burn phones we used. Numbers are programmed into it already. You already know how to use it so you're not traced."
"Thanks, Nell. I forgot all about that. Well, here goes nothing."
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Callen went back down the stairs into the bullpen area and took an envelope out of his go bag, then slung the bag over his shoulder. He checked to see if Granger was on the phone, and then went over to his office. All the other agents were following him with their eyes, wondering if that was his letter of resignation.
The senior agent knocked on the pillar that served as a door frame, if there had been a door. Granger looked up and said, "What can I do for you, Mr. Callen?"
Laying the envelope on Granger's desk, yet still standing in front of him, Callen said, "That is my request for a little medical time off."
"Come on, Callen, you don't take time off for anything medical. You try to break out of the hospital as soon as you wake up from surgery. You show up here when you should be on bed rest. What is really going on?"
"I pulled a muscle just after we were rescued in Afghanistan. It isn't healing right, and I think I aggravated it more while I was down there in the sub. I'm thinking that since it hasn't healed right on its own, I am gonna have to find someone to work the kinks out of it."
"Okay. How much time are we talking about? Days, weeks, more?"
"Just a few days, maybe a week, week and a half at the most."
"Well, you have the time accrured, and it seems to have slowed down a little here after the last case. If you're done with your paperwork, I approve your medical leave and you are free to go."
Callen headed toward the door with a huge smile on his face.
"By the way," Granger shouted after him, "what muscle is it that you pulled?"
"My gluteus maximus," Callen yelled over his shoulder as he walked out the door.
Everyone just knew that Owen Granger's face had just turned beet red and there was steam coming out of his ears. He was even too flustered to speak and call Callen back. When he calmed down a little bit he tried calling Callen, but he must have turned his cell off. Granger went up to ops to see if he could get Eric to track him through his GPS in the phone or the car, but Callen had disabled them too. As far as anyone knew, Callen had gone "lone wolf " one more time.
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As Callen sorta said goodbye to his team the night before, he wanted to make sure that he said something to the families that raised him and gave him a good feeling while he stayed with them. Callen's mind went back to his childhood memories. Of the thirty-seven foster homes in which he had been placed, very few of them had been pleasant experiences. He remembered the Rostoffs as being the best of all, and he wanted to make sure that they were the first ones that he thanked for all that they did for him. He just wished that they would have still been alive that he could thank them in person for their kindness in providing a safe haven in 1983 when he needed it the most. But even Alina was gone now. The house where they had lived now belonged to him, thanks to Hetty's purchase of it. Sometimes, late at night, he could still see them there, Anatoly, sitting on the couch, reading the paper, Svetlana, puttering in the kitchen, getting supper ready to put on the table. He hoped that they would know, when he had these visions and looked up to the heavens where he was sure they now were, that they understood his gratitude for the love they showed him as if he were their own child. The three months that he spent there allowed his body and soul to heal, before he had to go back and make sure a couple of the smaller kids at the orphanage had someone to protect them.
Callen drove up to the side of the Holy Transfiguration Russian Orthodox Church on Fernwood Ave in Los Angeles. It looked much the same as he remembered it, maybe with just a newer coat of paint. The onion domes and Russian Orthodox cross with the second, smaller crossbar above the main one and the angled bar at the bottom set this church apart from all the others in the neighborhood.
Callen didn't object to attending this church with the Rostoffs every week while he was with them. They didn't try to make him a member of the church, but it was something that the family did together, and if he was a member of the family, he would participate in this activity. He loved the icons that were on the walls throughout the church, because of their intricacy and ability to tell a whole story from just one picture. He appreciated it that he got another chance to speak the Russian language he was learning at the Rostoffs while chanting in the service and talking with the priests and other members outside after the service. The only thing he didn't care for was the incense used during the service, because it usually gave him a headache.
Callen walked up to the side gate in the low iron fence that surrounded the cemetery. He opened it, and walked over to where the Rostoffs were buried. Anatoly was on the right and Svetlana was on the left. Although he didn't know who she was at the time, Alina was the last person Callen was looking at when he was gunned down in the drive by shooting. She felt guilty for not warning him and vowed to avenge what she thought was his death. Instead, six months later she was murdered on the orders of the same man that ordered Callen's assassination. Finding out who she really was, Callen had Hetty pull the strings to have her body cremated and the urn buried between her two parents. Although there had been some initial resistance from the priest against the cremation, Callen went and talked to him, assuring him that they are doing it out of love, to rejoin the family in death as they were in life. The priest came to see that this was a powerful faith statement for the church, too, and since all the other rites of burial were being properrly observed, gave his consent. The agent had a new headstone carved, the information for Anatoly and Svetlana remained the same, but it also included the information for Alina - Born: 05/21/1980 - Died: 11/10/2009 – Rest in peace - моя маленькая сестренка [my little sister].
Callen knelt down alongside the grave and started talking to the members of this little family. He had so much to thank them for. They took him into their home when most people would see him as a young juvenile delinquent. They made him feel loved, a part of their family in every respect. Anatoly began to teach him Russian, and Svetlana taught him the basics of cooking. But it was Alina who taught him the most. She was the one who started to break down his walls and began to teach him how to love. He remembered making her laugh when he bounced her up and down on his leg. A tear came to his eye as he thought about the possibility of never visiting with them again, but if he couldn't get Hetty back as Operations Manager of OSP, he would never come back to Los Angeles again.
After a half hour of thanking them and saying his goodbyes for what may have been the final time, Callen got into his car and drove off to the first address on the paper Eric gave him.
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Callen had to hurry to reach the Alexandria Care Center by the time he had set up to see Ruth Hendrickson. As he drove along Alexandria Avenue, he saw what had to be the place up ahead on the right hand side. Anyone who had ever been in the system could tell, there was just something about it that screamed that it was a institutional building. Callen felt a touch of sadness as his mind couldn't miss the irony. As a child he was the one in the system and the Hendricksons were living a life that was normal – now he was living a life that some could say was normal, at least for him, and Ruth was now in the system. He pulled into the parking lot and parked in the one remaining guest parking slot. That was a good sign, people must be visiting if there was only one space remaining.
Callen went in and stopped at the desk for the west wing. Stacey, the desk nurse noticed that he was not one of Ruth's regular visitors, so she asked Callen his relationship with her charge. He told her his story, as much as he could remember and Eric found out for him.
He had stayed there for five whole weeks. He really wanted it to be longer. He was eight years old at the time and loved everything about the Hendrickson home, the best thing was that he had an older brother there. Bobby Hendrickson was two years older than Callen. They became instant friends, closer than some brothers that were born into the same family. There wasn't anything that Callen couldn't tell him, even the abuse he suffered at other foster homes that no one knew about.
Then one day, while Callen was helping Ruth with the shopping after getting home from school, Bobby had gone to baseball practice, like he normally did. On the way home, he tried to take a short cut and stepped out between two parked cars. He was hit by a car that never even bothered to slow down. Bobby was taken by ambulance to the emergency room. Mark, Callen's social worker, came to pick him up later that evening. He explained to the boy that the Hendricksons couldn't be his foster parents any more because they would have to spend all their time taking care of Bobby in the hospital. Callen told him that he would help Ruth and Carl with Bobby, but Mark just said that it wouldn't work out. So, with a tear in his eye, Callen went with Mark to the emergency care home.
Until Eric pieced together the information, Callen never knew that five days later Bobby died from his injuries. Stacey then took up the story as she heard it from Ruth. Carl was so devastated by the loss of his son that he threw himself into his work at the accounting firm where he worked, usually working more than 50 hours a week. Ruth had an idea that he just didn't want to live any longer now that Bobby was dead, and he was just working so hard that it would kill him. And it did. Carl died at his desk from a massive heart attack. Ruth started to develop Alzheimer's disease, and it sometimes was hard to tell which world she was living in, the present, or the past, which was more pleasant for her.
Callen then went in to visit with Ruth. He was very surprised at what he saw. The room was not like a hospital room, but more like a well furnished bedroom apartment. The only thing it lacked was any kind of kitchen facilities. Ruth was sitting in the overstuffed chair, dressed in a full skirt and flowered blouse, topped with a pale blue sweater. She was looking at the photographs that were lined up on her dresser, picking one up and staring intently at it for a few moments, then going on with the next one. Callen saw a folding chair next to the dresser, opened it up and sat next to her.
As he took her hand and he began to talk softly to her, "Ruth, I don't know if you remember a little eight year old foster child that stayed with you for a few weeks? His name was G. Callen, and he used to play with your son Bobby."
A puzzled look came over Ruth's face, until she heard her son's name mentioned. Then a spark lit up her eyes and she said, "Of course I remember you, Bobby. How could I forget my own son? You should go outside and play until Carl comes home from work and I fix supper, then we can talk some more."
Callen tried to clear up her misunderstanding several times, but it was no use. She saw him as her long dead son, and nothing could change her mind right now. After thanking her a little for what she and Carl had done for him, and still had her take him for Bobby, Callen talked a little about the photographs, the weather, and how they were treating her there. He said his goodbyes to Ruth, left her room and went back to the desk to talk to Stacey. He asked for some paper and an envelope and then went over to one of the tables and wrote a letter to Ruth. He filled three pages on who he was and why he had to thank her for what she, Carl, and Bobby had done for his so long ago. Placing the letter into the envelope and sealing it, he gave it to Stacey and asked her if someone would read it to Ruth the next time that she could really understand what was going on. She assured him that it would be done. Then Callen left, with a tear in his eye, mentally chewing himself out for not doing this sooner, when Ruth could have appreciated it more.
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He headed out toward Compton, trying to find the last listed address on the paper that Eric gave him. The agent didn't recognize the area at all, but that was to be expected. When he was here last he was only six years old. It was his third placement, but it was a good place for him to be. Johann Wellmann had worked for IBM for the past eight years and was in their research and development area. He was let go shortly after Callen arrived because the company decided to buy the technology he was working on somewhere else, rather than let him develop it for them. His wife, Gretta, was a kindergarten teacher who was taking a year off from school so they could try to start their own family.
Callen pulled up to the house on South Harris Avenue. He remembered the ornamental iron fence with the small gate for people and the big gate for cars. Looking at the yard he saw that the side yard was now paved over where there used to be grass. Maybe, as their family had grown, there was more of a need for an area where the adults could congregate and socialize rather than the children to use as a playground.
Callen rang the bell and Gretta answered the door. He couldn't say that he would have immediately recognized her, but she did look vaguely familiar. He could see that she had no idea of who he was.
"Mrs. Wellmann, Gretta Wellmann?"
"Yes. Do I know you."
"My name is G. Callen. I was a foster child here in your home almost 40 years ago."
"I'm sorry, sir. I don't think that I remember you."
"That's probably because I wasn't here very long. It might have been six or seven weeks back in 1978. Your husband lost his job at IBM and Mark, my social worker, came and got me because he said I couldn't stay here any longer because it would be too hard on you financially."
Gretta became somewhat defensive. "Are you going to blame us for messing up your life because we were not able to continue to foster you?"
Callen quickly shook his head and said, "No, Quite the contrary. I want to thank you for all the good you did for me in that short period of time. Is Johann around? I would like to thank him too."
"Come in and sit down. Jon is in the garage, working on some wood project. I will get him."
Callen sat down in an upholstered chair, facing the couch. Gretta led Jon into the room and told him, "Jon, this is G. Callen. He says he wants to thank us for being a foster family for him in 1976. I don't remember him, do you?"
Jon offered his hand to Callen in greeting, before he sat down on the couch next to his wife. "I'm trying to remember, but I can't recall him at all."
"I remember you both, in a lot younger version. Jon, you taught me how to properly treat a piece of wood. You wouldn't let me use any sharp tools, because you said I was too young. But you did teach me the proper way of sanding wood that I still follow today."
"I also have fond memories of you, too, Gretta. You were not working as a kindergarten teacher that year, so you had a lot of the things you used with the kids here in your home. I fondly remember all the clothes you had collected, that you let me play with. Then when I had dressed up the way I wanted, you pulled me into your lap and started to make up a story about who I was and what I was doing when I dressed like that. I guess that I still am doing that, because I work in law enforcement for a Federal Agency, and there are times I have to go undercover and dress in different clothes and make up a story about who I am."
"Are you sure it was here? I don't remember anything like that."
"You put me in the bedroom at the end of the hall. It had sliding glass windows that were too hard for me to open and close, so one of you would always have to do that for me."
Jon and Gretta looked puzzled at each other. Neither of them remembered that little boy so long ago. "I'm sorry, Mr. Callen, is it? Neither Gretta nor I remember you."
"It's just Callen and you don't have to be concerned about it. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated all you did to brighten the life of a little boy, and maybe even influenced his choice of occupation by the play and stories you put together for him."
"Well, if my wife and I have helped you in any way, I'm glad we could do it."
Not wanting to cause any more anxiety in the elderly couple, Callen told them he had to leave in order to go meet someone. Jon and Gretta thanked him for coming, but seemed more relieved that he was leaving than happy that he visited them.
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Callen arrived at Gibbs' house and walked in the front door. He made the appropriate noises that let Gibbs know he was not coming to rob the place as he dropped his go bag and collapsed on the couch. He didn't get any sleep on the redeye flying out of LAX, nor in the cab that drove him from Reagan National Airport over to Gibbs' home. The emotionally charged day had finally caught up with him, and he was asleep in seconds. When Gibbs heard no more noise, he came out with his weapon drawn, but hearing Callen lightly snoring there, he smiled, went back to his bedroom and changed the menu for breakfast from cereal for one to pancakes for two.
Several hours later the younger man woke up and followed his nose to the kitchen, where he found a cup of fresh coffee and a stack of blueberry pancakes on a plate waiting for him.
"Didn't want to wake you up. Looked like you hadn't slept in a while."
"I closed my eyes for about ten minutes on the plane, but that's about all."
"So, what you doing here in DC, and how can I help?"
"I told Granger I needed some professional help to get rid of a pain in my gluteus maximus."
"Well, Granger is a real pain in the ass. Is this about Hetty?"
"Yeah, I told my team that I was coming back with her, or I wasn't coming back at all."
"You really wanna go that far?"
"Yeah, Gibbs, I do. I know she's named 'the Duchess of Deception' for good reason. But still, she's been like the mother I never had." He went on to tell the older man of his encounters with the "good families" in his childhood and how much he felt he missed growing up. Now he felt that the woman who was the surrogate mother to all the members of his team was being unnecessarily attacked and if the organization he worked for would not support her, then he saw no need to continue to work for them.
Gibbs again asked, "How can I help?"
"Just let me stay here for a while, and don't let anyone know that I'm in town."
"Okay. Sounds easy enough to do."
"Thanks, Gibbs."
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Callen sent a text to Nell on the burn phone she gave him.
Found out these are the members of the committee trying to get rid of Hetty
- can you find out anything on them?
Representative John Welch House Intelligence Committee Member
Representative Michael Graves, House Intelligence Committee Member
Senator Darryl Burns Senate Intelligence Committee Chair
Charles Addison, FBI Director
Carl Delgado, the NSA Director,
Brad Morton, Director of the CIA – check for "White Ghost" files
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"Is he in?" Callen asked the receptionist.
"Even if he is, you can't go in there." the receptionist said.
"He will see me now or he will never see me again." Callen said as he went into the private office.
"Agent Callen, why are you here?" Director Vance said.
"I could ask you the same thing, Director."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Hetty is being crucified across town, and you are sitting here."
"Deputy Director Craig is representing this office."
"We both know that Deputy Director Jerome Craig is nothing more than a political hack. He was appointed by the powers that be so he wouldn't make any waves. And that is just what he is doing. Is he fighting for Hetty or sitting on his hands and politely nodding to every accusation that they raise against her?"
"There is only a certain amount that he can do."
"Well, there is something that I am gonna do. I tell you right now, if Hetty does not come back as the Operations Manager of OSP in Los Angeles, and Granger isn't removed from any position of authority over her, me, or my team, I will turn in my badge and gun and resign."
"And where would you go, Agent Callen?"
"Right now I don't know, nor do I care. But you better care about it."
"And why is that?"
"Because it will not just be me that leaves. Let me lay out for you my assessment of what probably will happen to the rest of the team if I leave:...
...Sam Hanna is the ultimate teammate. He would not like having to break in a new partner, but might be persuaded to stay and head up the new team that would be formed. God knows, he deserves it. More likely, he would ask for a transfer to the San Diego office to be closer to his SEAL buddies in Coronado."
...Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks – These two agents are a pair and might finally let their "thing" bring them together as partners in life as they are on the job. This would be the perfect spot for them to get out of the dangers of field work, where each one's greatest fear is losing the other one. Just a few well placed hints in the right official ear, and they could both end up teaching at FLETC, Kensi at lock picking and weapons training and Deeks in going undercover. FLETC wanted to keep Kensi after her training sessions there, and she has just gotten better and better. You know my reputation at the CIA and other agencies of being a 'ghost'. I have never, ever, seen anyone as good as Marty Deeks in undercover work. In many ways he is even better than I am, although I would categorically deny I ever said it with every fiber of my being. The only problem I could see for Deeks is that surfing is always better in California than on the east coast."
...Nell Jones – With just a little more field training, she could take over as Operations Manager at almost any station that NCIS has. But after demagging her captor out in the field, what more could be asked of her? She was the one that put in a request to you to let the team assist in the search for a lost sailor from one of the Russian subs. Then she turned that request into our rescue and putting an end to a terrorist threat, while Granger still thought it was just a drug operation. Callen thought to himself, **God, Hetty trained her well. She was beautiful, intelligent, and probably doomed to lead a single life like her mentor, because what mortal man could possibly be her equal?**
..."Eric Beale - The geek would be the biggest problem. Poor Eric would have no one left to keep him grounded so the machines would not take over his life, unless this 'thing' that he wasn't having with Svetlana Kolcheck took off. He could always quit NCIS and start to work for her grandfather, Arkady Kolcheck, in his private security firm. Those two geeks deserved each other, and each seemed to make the other happy in ways that I will never know."
..."And finally there would be Hetty. Hetty does not deserve to spend her final years in exile. She had never betrayed the multitude of secrets she carried in her mind to any of the alphabet agencies of this country. Why did they all expect her to spill everything she knew to those who might use it against her and her friends? I am so afraid that if the CIA so blatantly had mounted the 'White Ghost' operation against Jack Simon, how eager would they be to make sure that Hetty disappeared completely, or at least was completely eliminated in the same way?"
..."No one knows the little ninja as well as I do. This was my surrogate mother. I couldn't protect my biological mother on the beach in Romania, but I will do everything in my power to protect Hetty and see that she lives out her days in dignity and honor."
Callen laid all this out for Vance. If that wasn't enough to help get Hetty back and Granger out of their hair, then he would talk to the members of the team. He would tell them what he felt would be the best option for each of them, so that they have something positive to help them move on. Then they all would watch Granger's face in smug satisfaction as the best team that was ever assembled for OSP came crumbling down around him.
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Nell called him back after work was done for her that day.
"Callen?"
"Yeah, Nell. What have you got for me? Hope it's something good."
"Okay. Senator Burns is squeaky clean. No hint of scandal or wrongdoing."
"Okay, anything else?"
"Representative Welch is in a reelection campaign right now. There are allegations that he is taking kickbacks for awarding government contracts. From the little digging that we did, it looks like that definitely is the case. It wasn't easy to find, but you know how good Eric is, and with Sveta helping him, nothing can hide from them."
Callen held back a chuckle and then said, "All I know is that I would never want him angry at me."
Representative Graves is up for reelection too. There have been a few rumors about shady deals with him, too, but so far we haven't found anything."
"Okay, can you keep looking for me?"
"Will do. We didn't want to try to hack the files of the FBI, and NSA, but I found one of Hetty's old files that let me into the CIA database. There I found confirmation that 'Operation White Ghost' was nothing more than a contract hit on one of their agents, Jack Simon, whom they felt knew too much.
They can't trace the hack back to you or NCIS, can they?"
'First of all, their hackers are nowhere near the ability of Eric or me. Second, don't you think that Hetty has taught me anything? And third, no, if they try to trace it, they will come to a dead end in the Cayman Islands, and they are just as stingy with providing political intelligence as they are with banking information."
"Nell, if I was there I could kiss you. Can you send an e-mail to Morton with enough of the file to show that it is their work and it will be damaging to them. Maybe include a note like: 'You think Edward Snowden embarrassed the NSA with his leaking of classified material to the world? If this leaked out, think of how many questions you would have to answer in front of a select committee like the one you are on. Think of the further damage the CIA would suffer. Henrietta Lange could put a stop to this if she were again in Los Angeles. Think about it as you vote on her removal.' And Nell, please send a copy for Vance's files, maybe without the warning. He needs to know exactly what went down in Afghanistan and not just Granger's official record. You could probably draft your own warning notes to Representatives Welch and Graves, if you find any more out on them."
"Ooo, you almost play as dirty as Hetty does, and I like it. I take it that you would like to have these messages sent by the same route, or should I try something different just to confuse them?"
"Whatever you want to do. I remember that Deeks once called you 'the Marquesa of Misdirection'. You can do your thing. I just don't want you or Eric to get caught and have to pay for something that I wanted you to do."
"You got it. How will we know if it worked?"
"If I come back with Hetty, it was a complete success. If not, well, we will cross that bridge when and if we come to it."
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Three days later it was officially over. Vance had replaced Deputy Director Craig and began to fight for his former active Operations Manager. Senator Burns seemed surprised when Vance first started to raise objections about questions and procedures, but had to agree with the NCIS director that the things about which Vance raised objections had no bearing on the case.
Representative Welch became more and more fidgety as the inquiry dragged on. You could see that his opinion was starting to shift to support Henrietta Lange rather than oppose her. He started nodding his head to the objections that Vance raised, and was seen talking with the NCIS director as the two of them went off to lunch one day.
But the biggest surprise came the morning of the last day. Brad Morton, the Director of the CIA, asked Senator Burns for the floor and stated "For the record. New evidence has come into CIA hands that shows Henrietta Lange operates at the highest levels of professionalism in her work at the Office of Special Projects. She has a close feeling for each and every one of her agents, and it would appear that the feeling is reciprocated by all of them. She has gathered a unique collection of individuals and has molded them into a cohesive team that is willing and able to take on the hardest tasks, ones that could overwhelm the talents and resources of any other federal unit. To that end, I move that we end this investigation into her actions by declaring our thanks to her and Director Vance for the invaluable service she and her team have done for the country in the past, and ask if she would think about continuing to run the OSP until she feels that it is time for her to retire."
Senator Burns asked if there was a second to the motion, and Representative Welch almost dislocated his arm by raising it so quickly.
The vote was taken, and it was approved, though there were still some members shaking their heads at the change in outcome of the investigation. Senator Burns declared that the proceedings were over and thanked everyone for participating.
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Callen knew that Hetty had gone dark and nobody, not even Nell or Eric, had any clue of where she was. He asked Nell to see if Arkady Kolcheck had any contacts who could help find her. A couple of hours later it was confirmed that she was a guest at the Russian Embassy. Callen drove over there and found that Arkady had already informed them that an NCIS agent would arrive to pick up Hetty. Sergei Pavlovich, the chief of protocol of the ambassador's staff was extremely glad that Callen wanted to take her away. She had been playing chess with several of the staff members, sometimes having eight games going on at once. Of course they were playing for a dollar a point, and at this moment, Hetty was up some $500.00 total. Sergei was convinced that she was cheating, but he just hadn't found out how yet. Right now, he just wanted her gone.
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Hetty returned to NCIS headquarters to have a final meeting with Director Vance before she left for Los Angeles. When she heard the motion Brad Morton made to close off the investigation, she started laughing and could hardly stop. The Director finally asked her what was so funny. She finally got control of herself and said, "Leon, the first day I was called to testify Brad Morton asked me if I felt that my team is the one that can do the impossible."
"And what did you tell him?" Vance asked.
"I said that it sometimes takes us a little while, but we ultimately accomplish that goal. And now it would appear that he has found that out for himself." she replied, with a huge smile on her face.
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Callen sent a text to Nell that he was coming home and he was bringing Hetty along with him. Nell's return text was that they would be met at LAX and given a ride home. There were about two dozen smiley faces throughout the text.
As they debarked from the plane, both Callen and Hetty could see the whole team there in the airport, waiting for them. No one was more pleased than the returning agent. Their leader was once again there to direct them as only she could, and the agent that had gone lone wolf one more time was once again, the leader of the pack.
FINIS