Author's Note: Sorry guys. I honestly didn't forget about this fic. Just got busy. And distracted by other fics. Either way, I enjoy some action, but this bit I'm just not too sure about…
PART ONE: CALLEN
Chapter Nine: The Fall of Little John...
G Callen was not perfect. Far from it, in fact. He was an emotional cripple, really, incapable of allowing anyone to get too close, to become too entrenched in his life. Also, he admittedly probably had temper issues. While not all that quick to anger, his ire was quite severe when roused and difficult to diffuse. It was hard for him to be a team player. And obey the rules. And even his undercover and combat skills were not infallible.
Because, well, he really should've seen it coming.
In fact, he had anticipated such a play, and had kept his senses honed on the big man who'd been following closely behind him as he walked Nell out into the overgrown air field. But of course, the savage beast chose the precise second Callen had lapsed, dropping his guard for the briefest moment to catch Nell Jones as she stumbled on the uneven ground before him.
A shovel to the upper back is a pretty good wake up call. No. Strike that. It's a pretty good call for 'lights out', even if it hadn't been a direct blow to the head. Callen felt his legs give and he crumpled to the ground, incidentally taking Nell with him as the world began to fade.
It could only have been a matter of seconds that he'd been unconscious. Little John didn't seem the type to wait patiently for his prey to wake before offing them. And Callen had come round suddenly to Nell's shout of alarm.
"Callen!"
Spitting some dead grass out of his mouth, he rolled onto his back to find that Little John had recovered Nell's Glock, which Sloan had previously handed off to Callen (boy, that little gun got around). The young woman was pushing herself up off the ground, a fresh red mark stark against her pale cheek. But there was no time to curse the asshole for hitting her while the agent who should've been protecting her had been knocked out. Callen hastily rolled to the side, but not quickly enough to get out of the way of a bullet. Lucky for him, Nell had been quicker, springing at the giant man and knocking his arm so that the shot he squeezed off went wide.
Callen scrambled to his feet, feeling the world spin around him, taking a couple of faltering steps as Nell struggled with the thug, who'd gotten a fistful of her hair and was twisting her around to throw her harshly to the ground once more. Little John appeared unarmed, not that it was much help, but where had the Glock gone?
No time to search the tall grass, for the beast was bearing down on him once more. Callen ducked the oafish punch thrown at his head and struck his opponent in the stomach, sadly, to not much effect. He added a few more hits before the big man got his meaty paws on Callen's throat, which was really not at all a good thing. He tried every counter he'd ever been trained in, witnessed, or read about in cheap spy novels, but to no avail. Just when the world seemed like it was beginning to fade (for the second time in a matter of minutes), the giant jerked suddenly backward, releasing his hold on Callen's larynx to claw at his own neck... at the rope stretched taut and cutting into his thick, sinewy neck.
Nell had loosed the trick-knot binding her wrists and was now using the nylon rope as a weapon. And it was a pretty effective one, even if there was no way the petite woman had enough power to choke out the man who was easily two-and-a-half times her size. For her feet were not touching the ground. She must have jumped up, gotten lucky enough to throw the rope over Little John's head and garrote him good, her entire weight now providing the force with which to strangle the giant. Coughing until his eyes watered, Callen could nonetheless see the tendons strain and tighten in the big man's neck. He could somewhat sympathize, the memory of not getting enough oxygen into his lungs rather fresh in his mind. But he needed to help Nell bring the man down, and fast.
Where was the Glock?
He ran his gaze over the two-foot tall grass, looking for any disruption that could possibly represent a pistol-sized depression. Maybe three feet off to his left? Or over there, four feet to his right? Nell made a yelping noise as Little John began to thrash, finally realizing that if he couldn't get the rope off his neck, maybe he could get the tiny woman off his back. It was nearly comical. The petite red head was holding on tight to the ends of the rope, like a bridle, her legs drawn up so that her knees and toes were digging into the giant man's back stabilizing her as he wrenched this way and that, spinning slightly and bucking like a bronco... or a bull. A mad one. But Callen could tell that she was close to losing her grip, her face flushed and an intense, borderline panicked expression on her face.
Callen engaged in a hasty game of 'Glock? Glock? Where's the Glock?', conceding to the fact that he had to get down on all fours and feel around through the densely overgrown grasses that would be more at home on an African savannah... well, one with no large herbivores to keep it under control. Meanwhile, he could hear Nell continue to struggle in her attempt to choke out the giant. The brute must be growing weaker by now. Granted, it'd only been about twelve seconds, but-
Nell Jones cried out and there was a muted thump as she hit the thickly-covered ground. He really, really needed to find that gun. Rock. Clump of grass. There. Nope. Twig. Damn. C'mon. C'mon! The-
A heavy hand, larger than a boxer's, a miner's, a man who bent steel girders using only his pinkies, clamped down on his shoulder just as his fingers wrapped around the cold grip of the much-traveled Glock 26. He pulled it from the tangle of thick grasses, fragrant with earth and damp, hoping that the weapon hadn't been compromised in any way by its tumble. They tended to be pretty sturdy side arms and he was about to find out, as he was tugged by the shoulder and thrown onto his back upon the ground once again (doubtless to have his face stomped in).
He took a quick, evaluative look, was reassured Nell was clear and he had a clean shot, and then compressed the trigger, putting a bullet square into Little John's heart at a distance of five feet. The large man toppled like an ancient redwood, with a brief wavering in the canopy, gradually intensifying until the vast trunk was vacillating significantly, and then timber! falling to the side and impacting the ground with a force that caused a tremor in the earth that Callen could feel where he lay several feet away.
It took several seconds to convince himself to get to his feet, and several more for him to actually accomplish the task. His lungs were still raw from his near strangulation, every inhalation burning slightly. And there was an intense throbbing pain pulsing near his spine where he'd been struck with the shovel between his shoulder blades. He groaned, shook himself briefly, and focused his attention on the still extremely dangerous situation he was in. He... and Nell.
The younger agent was already on her feet. She made eye contact with him and he nodded, keeping the Glock drawn, but averted as Nell prodded the motionless giant with the steel-toe of her hiking boot and then bent over him, checking for a pulse at the purpling, bruised flesh of his neck. She shook her head once, quickly, her mouth a thin line, all emotion tucked away behind her hazel eyes as she looked up at him. He nodded in acknowledgement, and offered a hand to help her to her feet.
"We've got to get out of here," Callen said. One gunshot was what the gang of anarchists back in the hangar were expecting. Two gunshots... spaced out by a minute or two, however... "Now."
The charges came in handy after all, as Callen handed the Glock back off to its rightful owner, determined which direction his emergency stash was located, and booked it for the woods, keeping hold of Nell's hand in one of his, the detonator in the other. When they hit the tree line and heard shouts, he asked Nell if they were clear. When she confirmed they were actually a safe distance from any of the charges, he pressed the detonator.
And the forest exploded around them.
