A.N.: Thank you countrygirluk56 for letting me know the problem with the text. I hope this time you can read the chapter properly. Thanks!

Chapter 3

I was getting dark and Callen had still things to do before going home. Usually he liked to drive the Challenger, but today it felt wrong. Everything was feeling wrong, but he didn't have time to think about it. Not yet. Sam wanted to bury Michelle the next day and he'll need his brothers, his fellow SEALS, to be there, even if he wanted a private ceremony, Michelle was worthy of having a proper farewell, she had the right to rest in the military cemetery and to have a burial with all the honors. He knew Sam and the kids would appreciate it and he'll do all in his power to make it possible.

Stopping the car at the Chinese district he bought three burner phones and charging the battery of one of them on the car, he phoned Murphy and Rose to let them know his provisional new number. Then his first reflex was to phone Eric in order to get all the phone numbers he needed but just as he was dialing he stopped: "What I'm thinking?" he thought –"I'm just a bastard inconsiderate. Probably the poor guy is already sleeping after these two days working without resting."

He needed a computer, but he was far away from home or the mission and with the traffic he could spent two hours to cross the city. Definitely he wasn't on the mood for a cybercafé. Think!

Ok. Plan B. Driving again, he parked at the Beverly Hill Hotel. He hid his blue dirty plaid shirt under the jacket noticing that blisters were forming on his shoulder. He couldn't recall being burned, but now he couldn't ignore it anymore. His wrinkled jeans weren't in better shape than the shirt, but the old fashioned hotel had all he needed and he just had to be as quick as usual. Trying not to attire attention he entered the hall and went directly to the row of telephone booth cubicles where he found the best alternative to a computer: a California telephone book. Stealing it he came back to the car. "What the hell? The phone doesn't work"- he thought- but when he separates the phone of his left ear he saw on the screen that someone was on the other side of the line. It was his ear that didn't work. Great. Last time he suffered from a tympanum perforation he had balance problems for nearly a month. Certainly it wasn't the same thing to free diving in order to escape from a submarine thirty meters under the ocean, than an explosion from a suicide vest bomb. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea a career change after all.

He phoned again to the MCIWEST-MCB CAMPEN Adjutant office at Camp Pendleton to find out the procedures needed in order to bury Michelle. The officer in guard didn't know much about it, but when Callen detailed the sad events, he promised to locate the Command Duty Officer and phone him back. The mention of Sam Hanna's name was enough to facilitate everything.

Next call: Tom Olsen. The man was shocked by the bad news, but promised Callen to get in touch with the rest of Sam's ex-team mates.

Then he phoned Rod Washington, not because of his relationship with Sam, but as the father of Aiden's roommate at the academy. He didn't realize that it was so late, but even if the man was sleeping he promised to keep an eye on the boy at his return.

He knew Sam would call his family and Michelle's relatives so once the people were warned, what else is needed in a moment like this? Food. For a strange reason he never understood, people ate at the funerals, lots of food. He saw it in films. Neighbors and family always carried trays with all kind of things. Comfort food they called it, as if the food could bring the dear one back. Definitely he was unable to eat. Dialing again he phoned to Comfort L.A. a 24/7 restaurant in the Arts District of Downtown, at the 7th with Kolher St. if he recall correctly, that he knew the kids love, and ordered tons of chicken wings, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, beans, rice, meatloaf and Kamran's favorite banana pudding to be delivered in the morning to Sam's house.

What else? Flowers. Yes. With the aid of the telephone book he located a florist that for a strange reason opened also at night. At this moment he felt blessed to live in L.A. and not in the heartland America. Hetty taught him the meaning of flowers, so he commanded ten big floral arrangements and several bouquets of gladioli symbolizing strength, faith and honor. He assured that he will call later to give the cemetery address, but he made sure everything will be ready for the next day in the afternoon. At this point Callen was glad to have his credit card with him.

G was fidgeting in the car seat the whole time he spent to do the calls. A recently discovered sting on his inner ear and the permanent pain where the bullet hit his back were making hard for him to concentrate on the task. Starting the engine he decided to go to Sam's house, his Mercedes was parked there and he rather let the Challenger safe in the garage. He was exhausted.

After a short stop to fill the gas tank and to buy an energetic drink that he drank in two gulps, he finally arrived.

A yellow police tape crossed the main door and the alarms were deactivated. Angrily Callen strip it off and entered the house. Oh God! They were plastic numbers signaling the places where the evidences had been taken and black dust everywhere to reveal fingerprints. Following the traces he arrived to Sam and Michelle's bedroom. There was blood on the carpet and indications of fight. The police had searched all the drawers without any care and everything was in disorder. Callen went room by room cursing LAPD and its lack of respect; why on Earth they've registered Kamran's bedroom? He needed to clean all this mess before Sam and his family came back. For a moment he considered to hire the services of a professional team, but he would be wrong to let a stranger on the house. Resigned, he found all the products he needed on the kitchen and started to clean thoroughly the dust with a damp cloth advancing from the entrance to the rest of the house. At each wipe his rage augmented and it was precisely thanks to it that he was able to overcome the pain on his back and the tiredness of these two last days.

Several hours later the house was immaculate, all the extra beds with fresh sheets, Sam's uniform out of the closet and ready to wear and even the weapons Sam took from the garage were clean and secured again on the false wall, but Callen was completely worn out. He made another tour on the house to verify everything was in order when he saw at Sam and Michelle's bedroom the safe on the floor. Feeling stiffer each second he bended carefully and took it, pressing a button with his finger in the process. The safe opened with a click revealing a loaded gun, a burned phone, a passport, money and some papers. This was more than G could take. Michelle had time to tape nearly all the code. Just one more dammed button and Michelle could have had a chance against the men who took her. The button with the star, the lucky star, the luck she missed… sat on the floor next to the spot where he had cleaned before his friend's blood, G allowed himself to cry for the first time. The sobs were sending waves of pain from his back and he felt his body so tense that just breathing hurt. Incapable of stopping he cried himself to doze. The sun was rising on the horizon.