"Why am I going undercover as a Jacob?" G Callen questioned his petite OSP Operations Manager, Hetty Lange. "You know that's the one name I never use, Hetty."
"Be that as it may, you have yet to provide me with any actual reason for your aversion to the name, Mr. Callen. So you will go undercover as Jacob Tanner. Is that understood?" Hetty peered at him through her thick glasses, and Callen sighed but nodded an affirmative.
"You're going undercover? For what, I didn't know we had a case?" A new voice came from behind them, and they turned their heads to look at Kensi Blye, who was setting her bag down on her desk.
"The team itself does not have a case, Ms. Blye. Agent Callen, on the other hand, does." Hetty told her, turning back to face Callen, "Now, get going before the trail goes cold."
G made a noise of agreement, and quickly left the bullpen, leaving a confused Kensi to stare after him and a guarded Hetty to go back to her own office. Callen took out his phone as he walked, skimming through his contact list (most of which were fake numbers, just to de-rail any potential threats who got a hold of the phone) when he bumped into Sam Hanna, muttering an apology before continuing on, not looking up.
"Hey, G! Where are you going?" His partner questioned, jogging to catch up to G's fast pace.
Callen glanced up, opening the door and pausing to answer, "Some gang is housing a terrorist. It won't be hard," before he was outside and getting into his replacement car (his other one was destroyed, and he had yet to buy another one, so he made due with the one Hetty had acquired for him).
Sam watched his friend drive out of the lot quickly, pushing aside his natural worry for G whenever he got too focused on a case and blocked out everything else. Instead, he shrugged before walking into the bullpen and plopping into his chair, dodging the crumpled up piece of paper that Kensi threw at him good-naturedly.
Hetty set her phone in front of her on her desk, for some reason more concerned about her agent in this particular case than usual. Making up her mind, she dialed a number and waited for Eric Beal, who was stationed in the Eagle's Nest skimming through his Facebook. He obediently picked up the ringing device, leaning back in his chair.
"Eric."
"Mr. Beal, turn on Callen's GPS tracker in his phone and please watch it. He is going solo on a mission, and I'd rather not have a repeat of the last terrorist-bust."
Eric frowned, but brought up the tracker and opened another screen to watch through the camera on Callen's phone. When he did, he pulled back and made a face. Awkward crotch shot.
"Got it."
"Very good, Mr. Beal. I will be up shortly to monitor the feed. Until I am, please keep a vigilant eye on our agent."
"Will do, Hetty."
The phone fell silent on the other end, and Eric shrugged before placing it back in its cradle. Hetty never said goodbye, anyway.
But he did have to wonder why this case seemed to put the short woman on edge.
.~.~.~.
No, I'm not dead. I apologize for not updating My Own Enemy, but things are quite hectic here. As those who watch the news may know, five US soldiers were killed because of a bomb that went off next to their convoy in Afghanistan.
One of those, Keenan Cooper, was a close friend of mine.
I'm still reeling from this, and it may be awhile until another update. But I will try; when I'm not with the family, I tend to enjoy losing myself to writing. So I shouldn't be gone for too long.
Prayers and kind words for the family are appreciated.
But on a lighter note: it really bugs me how short this chapter is, and how my mother's laptop (the one I wrote this on) keeps trying to change 'Callen' to 'Cullen'. I mean, come on, Word! G's way better than any sparkly vampire. No offense to any Twi-fans, haha.
