Chapter 9

The man on the screen appeared countless times in Callen's nightmares. He always assumed the man was a Freudian reflection of himself. Nate had alluded to that theory several times due to Callen's identity issues and lack of family: His constant need to search out and know who he was and where he came from. His need to put the pieces together. Now, right before his eyes was a man he knew well, at least in his nightmares.

"You know this man, Mr. Callen?"

"Yes and no."

"Come on, G."

"He's the man I see in my nightmares," he said, eyeing Hetty and watching her jaw drop. "The one Nate told me was part of me."

"He's a ghost, G, we've checked every database."

The man was a ghost to Callen too, never had he seen his face until now. The freaky thing, this man could be his identical twin. He studied the no longer elusive face of his nightmares. "What about intel from foreign countries?"

"That's next, G."

There was another possibility, one which terrified Callen. He didn't dare speak it out loud.

"Mr. Callen, if you have any information you need to be forthcoming."

"I don't, Hetty, it's a theory."

"You have something to share, G." Sam stepped beside him. Callen sucked on his lower lip and crossed his arms. "Come on, man, talk to us."

"I know as much as you do."

"Mr. Callen, if there's any chance you know this man's identity we need to know."

"No chance."

"That's not what I'm seeing, G."

"It's your ops, Sam, go with it."

"Go with it?" he asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"This isn't my problem."

"Isn't your problem?" Sam asked. "There's a man possibly living, working, and running around Los Angeles with your face and your identity and it's not your problem? Come on, G, that's pure crap."

"It's your ops, I'm not involved."

"You're still harping on that?"

"I'll harp on it as long as I want."

"Hetty's trying to protect you and now I can see it's absolutely necessary."

"I don't want to be protected," Callen said, "I want access to this ops."

"No, Mr. Callen, and I'm not changing my mind," she said. "Your true identity is probably burned, not to mention the threats on your life from this ex-military group and their connections."

"Sucks."

"Yes, it does, Mr. Callen, I have no choice, but to keep you hidden and protected at all costs."

Callen sighed and backed away from the screen. This was one scenario he hoped wasn't true, but one the team needed to explore.

"Mind sharing, G?"

"Nothing to share."

"Come on, man."

"Okay, I know this is gonna sound far-fetched, but what if this guy bought my face?"

"Bought your face?" Sam asked. "How?"

"The same way those terrorists—who wanted to kill all of the attendees at the Queen Mary fundraiser with sarin gas—did. If you remember, they altered their identities with plastic surgery."

"Those terrorists didn't steal identities."

"No, they had plastic surgery to alter their identities," Callen said. "The technology exists for face transplants, so why not something easier, making yourself look like someone else."

"This would mean someone breached NCIS's computer system and accessed your files."

"Eugene Keelson did and maybe, just maybe, he sold off parts of my identity before I killed him."

"I suppose it is possible, Mr. Callen."

"On the black market, you can sell anything," Callen said.

"The other possibility: this man is a relative you don't know about," Sam said.

He shivered when he heard his partner say that. Callen had a sister and that's as far as he delved into his past and family. When he discovered that one piece of information, Callen thought it was the end of any siblings he'd ever discover. The possibility this man was his twin brother shook him to the core. He didn't want to think about it any further. "That's all I know."

"What?" Sam asked him. "That's all you're saying about this?"

"I had a sister."

"And?"

"Damn it, Sam, nothing else."

"Pure, unadulterated, denial, G."

"I'm not in denial."

"Really?" Callen started for the door. Sam grabbed his forearm again, this time tighter than the last time. "Don't walk away from this."

"Release my arm."

"No, stop running from your past," Sam said. "This photo is a wake up call, G."

"A wake up call I wish I never answered." A brother? He had no memories of a brother, well, except if he counted the nightmarish dreams of the elusive man and he always chased that man, never meeting him face to face.

"What?" He sighed. "Ever since I've known you, you've searched and investigated your past and now you're turning your back on it."

"Release my arm," he said it louder this time, grinding his teeth together.

"This isn't over, not by a long shot." Sam let go of his partner's arm.

Callen left OPS.


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