Here is another short chapter. Maybe if I continue to do this, I will learn to write "grown up" chapters. But until then, I am just not able to connect the segments that well.

Please review.

CHAPTER 9 - Gone

G. Callen had run! Panic filled the room. Tears formed in Kensi's eyes as she tried to make sense of this. "Hetty, why?"

Hetty was somber. "I think you know why, Miss Blye."

Sam was suddenly overcome with anger and guilt and he slammed both fists down on Hetty's desk. "I should have stayed with him. I saw it in his eyes. He's my partner. I should have known."

Hetty walked around from behind her desk and placed her hand on the large agent's back. "Sam, you can't blame yourself. He would have found a way. You know how he is when he makes up his mind."

Deeks shook his head. "How did he have enough strength to make it out the door? How did he even get his shoes on by himself, for that matter?"

"Like I said, when he makes up his mind…"

Sam turned to face Hetty and his anger melted to worry. "I have no doubt that G. knows how to survive on the street, but the man is in bad shape. He's weak and confused. On top of that, he hasn't eaten anything in close to thirty-two hours. He won't last out there."

Hetty walked over to her phone and called the Ops room. Eric was on speaker when he answered. "Yes, Hetty?"

"Mr. Beale. I need you to review recent surveillance from the cameras just outside our building. Anyone leaving ..say…the past hour or so."

It took only seconds for Eric to respond; he sounded surprised. "Hetty. It's Callen! He left at…uh…4:07, not long after we ended the conference with Director Vance. … And…uh, Hetty… he's not walking so well."

"Thank you, Eric."

Panic was in Kensi's voice. "We have to find him."

Hetty sighed. "You know I cannot authorize a search. You all heard the director; just being with Callen puts you all at risk. And technically," she motioned to the items that had been left on her desk, "Mr. Callen no longer works for NCIS." Hetty's paused, puckered her lips and gazed up at the ceiling. "But what you all do on your own time is certainly none of my business."

"Where would he even go? Do you think he'd go by his house to get his stuff?" Deeks asked.

Kensi shook her head. "He doesn't have any stuff to get. His house is practically empty."

"Oh, but there is something, Miss Blye," Hetty said thoughtfully. "He keeps a tin box on his mantle. It contains the only remnants of his past that he possesses. If he believes he will not have another opportunity to retrieve this box, he may very well be willing to take the risk of returning home."

After a moment, Hetty held up her wrist, rather dramatically, and looked at her watch. "Oh, would you look at the time. I think you all would benefit from a good night's sleep. It will be dark soon, so shoo," she said, motioning for them to go away.

Before leaving Hetty's office, Sam stopped and turned to her. "Would you ask Eric to start accessing traffic and security cameras?" Hetty peered at Sam over the top of her glasses. He got the message; she could not officially participate in the search. Sam gave her a single nod. "I'll call him myself," he mumbled, turning to leave the room.

The agents met at their lockers and came up with a game plan for initiating the search. Deeks would ride with Kensi and Sam would take his own car. They would start at Callen's house and fan out from there. Sam would call Eric, while in route, to ask for his assistance.

All lights were off in Callen's house when they arrived. Sam unlocked the door. His heart was pounding. He hoped that Callen had not come back home, only to walk into a trap. Upon entering the living room, Kensi's eyes went immediately to the fire place; the mantle was empty. "I think he's been here," she announced. "The box is gone."

Using their flashlights, they began systematically searching each room. Sam reported from the bedroom, "He's definitely been here. He took his duffle bag and bedroll."

When Kensi went into the bathroom, she discovered a wet towel and a small pile of clothes in the floor; the jeans, blue t-shirt, and the boxers that Callen had been wearing. "Hey guys?" she called and Deeks and Sam came to her. "He changed clothes. And it looks like he cleaned up. The sink and shower are still wet."

Deeks was somewhat baffled. "Why would he take the time to clean up and change clothes?"

"I don't know," Kensi shrugged. "Maybe these clothes belong to Hetty and he was afraid she'd hunt him down with bloodhounds to get them back."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You have a point." Sam thought about how he often teased his partner about staining or outright destroying most of what he borrowed from Hetty's precious wardrobe. "But more than likely, he knows it may be a while before he has another chance to clean up. Whatever the reason, now we have no idea what he's wearing. That's going to make this a little more challenging."

Just then, Sam's cell phone rang. "Eric, did you find him?" he asked impatiently.

"Well … yes and no. He took a cab as soon as he left the office and got out about three blocks from his house. I don't see him after that so he apparently walked the rest of the way. Then about twenty minutes later, there's a shadow … could be someone walking away from the house but they never come into view. Maybe Callen?"

"It was Callen," Sam said. "He knows the camera's there."

"Sam," Eric said cautiously. "We won't have eyes much longer. We're running out of daylight."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks Eric."

After completing the search of the house, Deeks and Kensi began searching the streets east of Callen's house and Sam searched west. All three agents were very much aware of the challenge they were faced with; they were looking for an individual who was a master at blending in. But Sam was hoping that the very thing that made Callen so vulnerable on the streets right now would increase the probability of finding him; he was tired, hurt, hungry, and definitely off his game.

Sam called Kensi at about 9:00 pm and insisted that she and Deeks go get something to eat and then get some sleep. They would begin the search again in the morning when there was light. Sam drove around several more hours before finally conceding that Callen had already bedded down somewhere for the night. He reluctantly headed home.

Sam took a deep cleansing breath as he sat at his table eating his dinner. He thought about that nagging, sinking feeling he had as the day began. He smiled, remembering how childlike G. looked, sitting in the passenger's seat of the Challenger, pouting because Sam would not stop at the pastry shop. Then it occurred to him how hungry Callen must be right now and his smile disappeared. He wished he had stopped.

Sam lay in his bed, recounting the events of the day. It was hard to believe this was the same day that had begun with that phone call from Eric; the same day he had picked Callen up and then drove to the crime scene; the same day that someone had tried to shoot his partner. "Partner." That last word echoed through Sam's mind as he finally drifted off to sleep.