A.N.: Thank you for your support, your comments keep me writing! :)
Chapter 4
Sat on the green sofa at her library Hetty contemplated the sunrise on the other side of the window. All she could hear were the logs crackling in the fireplace and some early riser birds in the garden. The night had been tough. All the ghosts came to pay a visit and this time her barriers were so low that she couldn't prevent them for invading her soul. She wasn't afraid of dying, at least not anymore, but definitely she was getting old for loosing friends. She was still making peace with Owen's disappearance, his bag pack was getting heavier and he lived long enough the way he chose. Michelle on the other hand, so full or energy and life, with all the future in front of her… And her children. She had now another family to take care of. And Sam, his loyal team player, she had to make sure that he could find the balance in his life again.
Suddenly the phone rang, interrupting her thoughts, but it seemed that Hetty was waiting for the call.
- "Lange"
- "Are you drunk Henrietta?"
- "Getting there, Leon, but unfortunately, no, I'm not drunk"- answered Hetty taking a sip of her whisky.
- "I suppose coffee is not an option for you, eh? Henrietta, how the hell this could have happen?"
- "Revenge is a powerful engine, Leon, and we all have our enemies in this profession."
- "This time an international terrorism was involved and he was released by your team under your supervision. You know that everything is going to be investigated thoroughly, don't you?"
- "Are you calling to threaten me or my team, Leon? Because in that case you better go to hell. I didn't hear your condolences yet and frankly at this moment we don't need more shit. Let us bury our dead in peace."
- "Hetty I didn't mean…"
- "Maybe not, but you just did."
After a big pause the director sighed and asked:
- "How can I contact Sam?"
- "He is unavailable for now, but I let you know the moment he'll be ready. I'm sure there will be a service soon."
- "Please, keep me posted, and, Henrietta, whether you like it or not, the Department of Defense is going to get to the bottom of this."
- "Have a good day Leon, if you can."
Hanging the phone Hetty gulped all her drink.
- "Oh, bugger!"
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G had completely lost track of the time when a ring startled him. Disoriented for a moment he finally realized it was his new burner phone. His ear hurt.
- "Callen"- he answered with a hoarse voice.
- "Hey Callen. I'm sorry if I wake you up, I know is early…."- said Rose on the other side of the line.
- "It's ok Rose, I wasn't sleeping. What's up?"
- "I've just finished the autopsy, and the funerary home can take charge now. If you tell me which one is it I can arrange the paperwork with them to transfer the body."
- "No, no, Rose, thank you, just keep Michelle there a little bit more, please. You go home; you've been up all night. A NCIS agent must be at the door just let him know that you're leaving."
- "But Callen…"
- "You've done enough Rose, and I really appreciate it, please go get some rest."
- "All right then, but let me know if you need anything."
- "Thank you, you're a good friend."
- "Take care of the big guy"
- "I'll do. Bye Rose."
Callen was still sat on the floor of Sam and Michelle's bedroom. He was exhausted and the awkward position he maintained in order to avoid the pain in his back didn't do any good to the rest of his already sore muscles. He had no time to think about resting, not until he got to arrange Michelle's burial and made sure that going out of the safe house will be ok for Sam and the kids.
Then he saw again the safe and all its contents on the floor. He decided to put everything away on its place and to lock it again without telling Sam how close Michelle had been of opening it that damned morning. Remembering the order of the items Callen was about to put the weapon and the passport down when he saw it. A paper folded in four. A receipt with something hide inside, a picture. What the hell?! Callen started to laugh. The picture was kind of blurry, but he clearly distinguished a very young Sam with bell bottom trousers and afro hair style shooting a gun on an arm gallery. In other circumstances he would have mocked Sam for decades. On the back of the picture Michelle's handwriting: "You were the same age :) He'll be fine. I love you."
The receipt was for an armory at West Hollywood, apparently for an already paid and repaired Glock 17 at Aiden's name. G decided to take it with the picture. Soon it will be Aiden's birthday and he was going to give the young man his mother present.
He put everything in place and still smiling he get up feeling dizzy in the process. A cold sweat ran down his back awaking his wounds with the sting, and his ear began to buzz. Definitely it wasn't a good idea to move quickly, he thought. His phone rang again. True to his word the officer in guard last night in Camp Pendleton passed the message to the MCIWEST-MCB CAMPEN Command Duty Officer who first thing in the morning contacted Callen. For half an hour they discussed all the details in order to make the burial possible. The time was tight, but the Officer engaged to provide Military Funeral Honors for Michelle that same afternoon if Callen could find a place in the Military Cemetery.
Overwhelmed with all the information and sored than before, G went to the kitchen. It was coffee in the pot, probably the last Michelle prepared, so he turned the coffee maker on to heat it and took again his phone. He needed help and he needed it now.
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Sipping her still very hot tea after she decided against opening another bottle of whisky, Hetty mulled over the last events. Her guts were telling her that something wasn't good, and even if she couldn't grab what exactly apart from the obvious, she was too old to dismiss the feeling.
The phone rang and she immediately felt relieved.
- "Mr. Callen"- she saluted.
- "How do you know…?"
- "At this time in the morning, from an unknown number to my private line, it was more a deduction than a lucky guess. How are you?"- asked Hetty with concern.
Ignoring the question Callen went straight to the point:
- "Hetty, Sam wants to bury Michelle today."
- "I see. Are you two aware of the implications? There're so many things to prepare that it may be not possible."
- "The autopsy is already finished and the arrangements with Camp Pendleton for the military honors are done too. Sam's brothers SEALS are just waiting to know the time and everything is ready at Sam's house to receive his family."
- "Food?"
- "In its way."
- "Flowers?"
- "Gladioli."
- "Excellent choice. I hope you made sure Sam get some rest, you've been busy!"
- "He is with the kids now, but I don't know if he had gotten much sleep."
- "So what can I do for you, Mr. Callen?
- "I'm sure you can menace someone at the military cemetery in order to assure the burial this afternoon."
- "Well, no need for threatening this time. I know the right person and it happens he owns me a favor or two."
Callen sighed aloud, relieved, like taking a load off, fact that didn't get unnoticed by Hetty.
- "Good. The later the best, we need to make sure everything is fine before the kids come to say goodbye to their mother."
- "I let you know the exact time the moment I know it. Are you reachable at this number?"
- "Yeah, I'll keep this one for now, but I'll be doing some phone calls. Please leave a message if I can't answer. The same for Sam, please; let him know that everything at home is ready, - even the garage, he knows what it means, - and that the plane will be at his disposal, he just needs to notify the pilot."
- "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
- "Thank you Hetty."
Callen was about to hang up the phone when Hetty called him:
- "Mr. Callen."
- "Yeah?"
- "Take care."
- "Talk to you soon."
The conversation somehow reassured Hetty who was worried sick without news of her two senior agents. Just by the sound of his voice she could tell that Callen was exhausted, but also focused and all business; she was pleased that he was able to ask for help and that he trusted her with such an important task. A big step for him that showed how much he had progressed over the last years. Nevertheless her gut feeling was continuing to tell her that she was missing something.
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The doorbell sounded loudly in the now awakening Hanna's neighborhood, startling Callen. He felt the noise reverberate on his ear and the headache came back with renovated energy. The food had arrived and for the next thirty minutes he stocked, froze and prepared everything with military precision, the way Sam used to do and the way he use to laugh every time he saw him doing it.
He drank the old coffee, rinsed the cup, pick up his stuff and went out the house. Too much to do and so little time!
