Who Am I

Chapter 4: Granger

He tosses the report on the desk to land amidst more than a dozen files already scattered there. Quite a read… He sat back and steepled his fingers and just stared at the array of manila folders like they would explain it all…make sense of everything they'd been through the last few months.

He was always fascinated by the undertones and nuances given to in the mission reports by each participant. You could tell a lot about a person…there frame of mind, by what they had written-or hadn't written, on the pages. Though they were all there…each story was unique in its interpretation; almost like they had all been on their own, personal mission.

And with a tired sigh he contemplated…perhaps they had been. Though they all wanted the same outcome, the reasons were all different…and those reasons are what give one the stamina and fortitude to succeed or fail on any given mission.

The mission was counted a success by the higher ups...nearly everyone who had a stake in its outcome came away with some prize-consolation or otherwise. But for the first time in a long time he wondered…was it all worth it? Dangerous thoughts for one in his position. And all because of one particular file he had just read…from the interpreter left behind with the detective.

That one particular file had him frowning…not just for its starkness of words, but for the unexpected brutality contained within it. Wholly unexpected…even somewhat frightening; and it left him with feelings of uncertainty he wasn't used to.

His mind opened up a floodgate of memories…past missions and the things that didn't make it into his own mission reports. In the heat of the moment…in life or death struggles, one's mind is not exactly picking out the words for the 'After Action Report', nor considering that the incidents would be written by multiple people from multiple perspectives. Those words come later when one has to contemplate and justify their actions made instantaneously and most commonly under extreme conditions. That's when you find out if your team really has your back…there are things that happen in the field that would not translate well to the stark black and white of a retelling surrounded by safety and second guessing.

Apparently the detective was also aware of that point.

He knew Henrietta had read the reports thoroughly, had put the pieces together; and just a few short years ago he might have known how she would react. He used to be able to read her and respond to her subtle signals with the same ease as Sam and Callen seemed to work. Now, not so much.

Ever since she retired from active field work to take this job at the Office of Special Projects…ever since she formed this rather odd and mismatched team, that still had him shaking his head at times: ever since then, he looked at his former on again, off again field partner and saw a stranger.

So, what does she think of her team now, he wondered. Her manipulations brought her and them to this point: a point he wasn't sure they could return with any sense of balance and team…any sense of trust.

Callen, as team leader, would be privy to the reports by his team…not of the support personnel. And he was pretty sure Hetty wouldn't make them available, should Callen even consider to ask. It wasn't hard for either of the seasoned agents to see the guilt Callen still carried for the Siderov case…Hetty would see to it that the guilt was not magnified by what lay in the interpreters report.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the jumble of thoughts going through his head after reading the agents and support personnel's words. It saddened him somewhat that this could be the lynch pin that finally pulled this unique team apart.

While he had had some very serious doubts at the beginning; over the years, he had witnessed this team pull off eleventh hour saves…seen them drive themselves, and each other to the edge to get a job done. He had observed and decoded their subtle language of team dynamic… the "dance" of words and actions the team employed to keep each other human, focused…and alive.

But after Afghanistan…after Siderov….after the build-up, over the years, of subtle missteps and growing misgivings he wasn't sure this team could find its footing again.

But he had to give them that chance to heal…to face their inner demons and decide what to do with them and come back together on their own terms. He would watch with curiosity, over the next several months, as to what manipulations the operations manager would employ to pull this unique team back…

He wasn't sure whether he would applaud her skills or be appalled by her manipulations of people she professed to care for deeply. He shook his head again…to much pretending, too much pushing down who they really were…too much, too much of having to pull out the worst of themselves to stay one step ahead of their adversaries.

Shaking his head, he pulled together the files and dropped them in a side drawer…closed and purposefully turned the lock… No, he and Hetty had been in the game to long…saw too much during their years.

They couldn't be redeemed…but maybe, just maybe, this unique team might be saved….