Dots, part 2
A/N Thank you so far for reading and leaving a review. Your input is valuable to me! As you may or may not know, life had some things going on which kept me from writing as my boys needed, and still do need, more attention than usual from me…
Disclaimer: the characters of NCIS Los Angeles belong to CBS. The only thing that's all mine is the idea for this storyline.
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For a millisecond, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever comments that might come. Then, Callen pushed the small green button and the sliding doors to Ops Center opened up. He entered the room and seconds later, the doors slid close again.
Six pairs of eyes stared his way, but only seconds after Callen had entered, the youngest of the team, intelligent analyst and part-time agent Nell Jones, calmly continued with what she was outlining for the team.
"As I just explained, our San Diego co-worker Thomas Roberts was found dead late last night in an alley near Van Nuys."
"And we know this how?" Callen wanted to know.
In his usual nasal voice, Granger explained. "After he went missing two days ago, he was found by someone who thought he found a short-cut to the airport. Instead of saving time, he nearly ran over a motorcycle with a dead body next to it. And we know it also because it was confirmed by agent Blye and detective Deeks, who both responded to my call near two o' clock this morning, agent Callen. Which cannot be said for you."
At that time, he probably was in the 'Bootsy Bellows' or on his way to Anna's place, arguing about whatever it was they were arguing about lately. Anyway, no way he heard any phone call, let alone wanting to answer any.
Callen was about to reply until he noticed how Sam motioned behind Granger. A definite no-go came from his partner, so he swallowed the words he planned to say. Instead, he answered "I understand, Sir."
Callen studied the pictures Nell had put on the screen. One picture of NCIS itself, with the usual info on it. Thomas Roberts stared into the Ops Center from the large screen.
Brown eyes, a haircut even shorter than his – features that fit with lots of agents and military personnel. Next to the ID-card, another picture was put on display.
"This picture was taken last night, at the crime scene. I agree, it's nearly too dark and I haven't been able to enhance it, yet," Eric brought up. "But what you can see are definitely those bullet holes which proved to have been lethal."
With a laser beam, Eric pinpointed at dark spots on dark clothes. Dark pools of what must be blood mixed with the similar dark puddles of rainwater in the alley.
And there was one more picture, probably made by the medical examiners as cold, white light which shone and which proved a dead body looked even more dead when illuminated like that.
The agent's upper body was bruised and battered, and Callen counted three bullet holes, all which would have killed the agent anyway.
"Tortured, escaped, a car chase and finally killed," Callen expressed his conclusion.
"My opinion as well," Sam said. "Look at those cuts on his chest and the bruising around it. Exactly what you get by being hit with for example a simple trouser belt."
Callen nodded and asked Granger. "Do we know by whom he could've been tortured and how he got in there?"
"Nearly. I suppose we could go for some sight-seeing in San Diego, right, captain Granger?" Deeks answered.
A tight smile appeared on Granger's face. "I suppose you could. On the other hand, I suppose that Beale in here can find out just about the same in his systems too."
"Even if you suppose he could, I suppose Kenz and I still could have a way of obtaining all we need to know from this agent Roberts' family and superiors." Deeks tried again. Then, when he noticed how the assistant director raised his brows, he added "Although, of course, I do suppose you could give a straight call to his handler. Since I suppose you are his superior like you are mine, or perhaps not really my boss since I'm still a LAPD detective, so not really NCIS, not yet, anyway, so, if you gave orders… I suppose?"
Without a direct response, Granger cleared his throat twice and said "As I was saying. Blye and Deeks, I want the two of you go and check with agent Roberts' relatives and co-workers. See if he mentioned anything which might have led to this specific situation."
He then addressed Eric. "Beale, try and trace back Roberts' movement in town. Cars, bills, phone-calls; the usual things."
After a discrete cough, Nell felt it was her time to speak again. "And I suppose I could assist Eric with that, don't you think, Sir?"
Granger shook his head. "I need you in the field this time Jones. You will team up with agent Hanna in here."
"But…" Sam tried.
This time Granger raised his hand, motioning he did not want to be interrupted again. "Hanna, you and Jones will inspect the crime scene again. This time in broad daylight. See if there's any evidence left or to be shared by the local police. Find out if there are witnesses. Check on the motorcycle. See if there's bullet cases. The usual things."
Then, Granger felt those clear blue eyes of the agent in charge piercing in his back. "And you and I need a different kind of discussion this time, agent Callen."
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Interstate 5, near Santa Ana || one and a half hour later
"You think Ana was a saint indeed?" Deeks' question for Kensi reached the rest of the team as well, though practically nobody listened really carefully since the others had specific tasks too.
Kensi yawned, tired of how her morning had passed so far. Then she pondered over Deeks' question, hummed and answered "Obviously. They wouldn't have mentioned her as a town if she wasn't. I mean, the sign would just mention 'Ana' if she wasn't a saint, so she has to have been."
She kept her gaze fixed on the blue Honda in front of them, driving too slow in her opinion, yet continued "But it's a discussion I really think is useless, Deeks. I mean, why care about Ana?"
"Exactly my thoughts. Callen may care for her, but this Ana must've been a different from his Anna. The Russian connection, y'know? But it's exactly what I mean. Think this — if it were about Anna, blonde, long legs, tanned and dressed and looking all Californian, well, we all would care. But this is Ana. Probably a poor girl, coming from the South, let's say, Mexico. Who would care about her? Well, she must have cared for other people. She must have done something pretty holy fantastic."
"Things like?" Kensy Blye interrupted. She now glanced sideward at her partner, who kept chattering.
But Deeks just shrugged. "Dunno. I studied Law and how to be an exotic dancer, remember? History never was my cup of tea, you know."
Kensi shook her head and sighed as loud as she could. "Tell me more about the case. I need to concentrate on driving this car and stay awake, remember?"
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OpsCenter || Office of Special Projects, Los Angeles
"So?"
There was the one-word-way discussion which Callen mastered better than anyone else Owen Granger knew of. Still, Callen now wiggled his jaw, Granger noticed, so there was a certain way of irritation or uncertainty. He knew that separating the agent in charge from his usual partner might anger Callen. But reading faces never was Granger's strongest point. True, since he left the field work himself he lost most of the ability to do so.
But with Callen, well, he never knew. He always was the most difficult one of this team to handle, to explain things to and to understand. Theirs was very different from the relationship Henrietta Lange had with special agent in charge G. Callen and it probably always would be.
More gentle than usual, he nodded to the other man. "You feel left out, don't you?"
A simple shrug was the only response he got.
"Look at the screen once again Callen. Look at it the way I did."
The clear blue eyes were cold for some seconds, then were focused on what he really saw. Slowly, Callen nodded as he understood what Granger meant.
"Eric, any chance that with this footage, you can estimate how far the shooter was from the deceased?" Callen then asked.
The technical analyst looked up from what he was doing, pretending he never heard the previous discussion.
"The distance?" He shook his head. "No. That's about the only thing my systems can't do. But then, there's Rose. She can do magic in minutes."
He took the phone and repeated the question to the medical examiner who handled most of their cases. He nodded and hummed three times, looked at the other men and responded to the woman on the other side of the line "The fastest postmortem exam you've ever conducted indeed. But it's only this question we need to have answered this far. So, 10 minutes?"
Granger glanced at Callen, then inwardly smiled when he saw how a nearly unnoticeable smirk had appeared on the agent's face and how Callen let his hands go over his hair.
"I think I get the point, Granger," Callen then said. "Colored lenses. A buzzer can do magic. Scruff's about the same." Again, Callen nodded. "I could be Roberts for a while, if necessary, I suppose. You've got any files about the guy I need to know of?"
"Sure have, agent Callen. I knew you would get to the same point eventually."
"Glad you decided to share it, eventually, with me, like you shared this idea of you with Hetty earlier."
Granger sighed and asked "And you know this, how?"
"She shared her mood. That was enough, Granger. She's an open book if she wants to be, even though she doesn't share what she really knows with words."
Thanks again for reading! Loved all your reviews and thoughts so far!