Chapter 10
When Tomorrow Comes
A/N Thank you all for those lovely reviews you left so far. Sure hope you'll like this chapter as well.
Kni®benrots
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NCIS Office of Special Operations || Los Angeles
"Behold, thou all… We've gathered in here for a new case," Eric spoke enthusiastically.
Four pair of eyes glanced at the young technical analyst who then shrugged and motioned at Owen Granger.
The assistant director scraped his throat like only he could, then said "This morning, Chief Petty Officer Jack Lefevre and six possible recruits were attacked at the Naval Recruiting Office at Hollywood Boulevard."
"Lefevre didn't survive. Two of the applicants died as well. Three of the others were transported to hospitals, of whom one was left unharmed," Nell carried on. She tapped on her hand-held computer and some blurry, black and white footage appeared on the big screen.
"We'll improve it later on," Eric apologized. "Keep in mind the camera feed tapes every 10 seconds." He then stopped speaking and explaining so all of the others would see the same things at the same time.
It only took them 5 minutes to go through the images twice.
"The shooter seemed to know where the security camera was," Sam said. "Which means he or she has been in the office before."
"Must be a male," Deeks said.
Kensi frowned at the words of her partner. "What makes you think it is a man?"
Deeks stepped towards the large screen. "It's a bolt-action shotgun. Not the most common one in our country and you have to know how to use it. Kensi, as a great sniper, knows how to use them. But this shooter is at close range. No time to position the gun against your shoulder and take your time to shoot. On the contrary, it looks as if he keeps the gun low, let's say at his hip. Still pays attention to keeping out of sight of the camera. It requires a certain skill."
Kensi nodded and agreed. "There were seven targets. After the first shot, six persons would be alarmed, duck away or even shoot back. It's not an automatic and it has no silencer. Maybe a Mauser? You'd need a very, very strong forearm. Like Sam, Callen perhaps," she figured.
She then paused, waited for Callen to quickly deduct and decide who'd do what. But not now.
"G?" Sam asked.
Callen did not respond to his partner's question. Instead, he addressed Granger. "What about the other case?"
"It'll still be there when tomorrow comes, agent Callen. For the moment, you understand this case needs all of our attention."
He nodded. "I understand." One more look at the screen and he decided "Kensi, Deeks, see what you can find out about the one person who stayed alive and apparently un-attacked. After that, go and see the wounded. Sam, you and Granger should visit the crime scene."
He managed to avoid all of their stares and continued. "Report to Hetty. Nell, Eric, I trust you gather the information about the victims, their backgrounds and situations. Keep each other informed."
Next thing he did was turn and just before he was about to leave Ops, he simply stated "I have a funeral to prepare and to take care of. Since you also knew it was coming, I guess you won't keep me from taking some time off with my family, will you, Owen?"
Then he simply left.
All of the others were quiet for a moment, glaring at the assistant-director.
Eric was the first who then spoke. "Right," he said, fumbling with some keys on the computer, "addresses are on your phones now."
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Hollywood Boulevard || Sam's Challenger
"We've had a case in here before, you know?" said Sam as he stopped his car at a distance from the Recruiting Office. The place was crowded with police-cars and the ever alert local press, joined by curious public. The yellow crime-scene tape was used as a wide barrier around the building. Both men observed the situation, then Sam continued "It had to do with Callen's former partner at the CIA."
The older man adjusted his jacket slightly and was about to step out of the car. "Which one of them?"
There had been some people who'd been partnered up with the team leader.
"The one he supposedly married. Tracy Rosetti. Or perhaps you know her as Tracy Keller?"
Granger raised his brows. "Well, well. I knew they worked together for a while. But married? You're telling me Callen was married before?"
"Like I said. Supposed to be." Sam chuckled. "It's not that he fancied the woman, like he loves Becca." He then was serious again. "It's a good thing you let him go like you just did. He's tensed, I can see that. Not knowing which part of him should be in control, the professional part or family life."
Granger shrugged and said. "I've discussed this matter with Hetty. You think it's wise to have him around?"
It surprised him that Owen Granger asked. Sam tilted his head slightly, wondering how to reply. "Depends. G is keen on solving the other case. He needs a prompt ending to it, so he and Becca can pick up their lifes like they should. He's sharp, I think because it's personal. You saw what happened this morning. And to be honest, I perfectly understand why."
An explicit nod came as a response from the other man, who then got on his feet.
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NCIS Office of Special Operations || Los Angeles, late at night
"Jake Andermann and Michael Johnson caught the bullets that were meant for their friend, Maryam al-Albaani. The shooter was her brother, Husam. He probably considered it as a disgrace his sister really wanted to join the Navy," Deeks said. "Lefevre was in fact 'collateral damage'. That goes for the wounded applicants Lewis Visser and Deidre O'Neill as well. Micki Fallson was the only one quick enough to duck away and really stay out of reach of the gun," he concluded.
"Nell was quick with discovering Husam had been in that same office but decided he'd rather not be enlisted after all. In his files were some remarks about the fact he didn't feel right about women joining the Navy as well," Eric piped up.
"It's sad when things like these honor crimes still happen. Women who're not allowed to make their own decisions, it sounds—" Kensi didn't finish her sentence, just put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and glanced at Granger.
Granger nodded. "Even third generation immigrants keep those rituals alive." He then said "Thank you all for the quick thinking. Now, about tomorrow…"
"I'd like to have some hours off," Sam bluntly interrupted. He didn't have to explain any further, because Granger said "That's what I was about to suggest. It would be good for Callen to have you all around. Show your support, pay your respects. Keep your eyes and ears open and be alert. Protect if necessary. All other work can wait."
A short but grateful smile appeared on Sam's face as he left and headed home.
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Carroll Canal, Venice || four nights later
The stress of the past few week and days should take their toll on young George Callen, Rebecca and Callen himself.
Nothing added up, nothing new was found out, nobody uninvited showed up. The final farewell for Ike Finley was an emotional moment, but so had the intimate goodbye for their unborn girl.
The weekend should've been a moment to relax.
Callen had taken George to the beach where both of them were about to have a surfing lesson, organized by Deeks. It had been fun and both came back at the secured house, giddier than they'd been for the last couple of days.
"There was this girl, mum, and she thought she was better than me."
"And I think you showed her how wrong she was?" She smiled at her boy. Competitive, maybe like she herself had been. "You were like that too, when you were young?" she then asked Callen.
The grin left his face. Wearing the shades like he did now, Rebecca couldn't read his eyes like she was used to. "Whenever I did get the chance, I guess so," Callen responded. He remembered the bad days in foster care. 'Competitive' wasn't the word which fitted the fights he endured. 'Survival of the fittest' sounded more like how it was. And how he survived.
"Oh, but with that blond woman, you weren't doing your best to win or beat her at all," George then brought up. He then giggled. "It was as if you wanted her to win, Mr. G."
The boy still giggled as he took his smartphone and snuggled in one of the comfi seats in the living room.
Callen sighed. He was well aware that Becca, his Rebel, would've understood when she had been around. Yet she hadn't – surfing was a thing she was not able to do at this very moment, and she had told beforehand she was about to finish an article for one of the crime magazines.
She had looked away at their son's remark, chewed the inside of her cheek and finally changed the subject. "Did you know that there are over three thousand words starting with the letters C and A. Ca…? And that's in English only."
He took his shades and put them away as he responded "That's a lot. Ike probably wanted to tell you about me, taking care of you, don't you think?"
She shook her head. "No, he didn't have to tell. He knew, I know. No, I think—"
"Listen, Becca, let's see what Nell and Eric will make of it," Callen said.
For a short moment, she just stared at him. Then she turned and said "I'm going to have a shower."
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She had been crying. He could still see it – traces of the tears on her cheek. She lie on the king-size bed, still dressed in an oversized shirt, the dark brown hair spread out on the pillow. The jeans she'd been wearing were thrown next to the bed.
Callen just stood and stared , wondering what went so wrong. Wondering why she hadn't shared her feelings and why she'd decided to be keep most of it to herself. Wondering why he hadn't really heard what she said. Wondering why he had decided to have a relaxed and fun time on the beach, leaving her alone. Wondering why he had not been the one to undo the belt of those jeans, to unbutton the shirt, to...
He sighed deeply.
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Perhaps it had been months ago. Callen couldn't really remember the last time he had had a nightmare like he had now. There was no real reason, none he could figure out anyway. It took a while before he controlled his breathing.
"Is it—anything you want to share?" Her voice sounded soft but unexpected in the dark.
Callen shook his head. Of course unseen. "Dunno. The images are already gone, I think."
She smiled sadly, upset that he refused to share something so important to him.
Rebecca moved to his side of the bed, nestled as close as she could and put her unhurt right arm on the bare skin of his chest. She slumbered a while like this, then fell asleep.
Callen lay awake, felt how she cuddled up and let her. He felt her now long, dark brown hair which was spread everywhere.
He knew.
It reminded him of his nightmare. He remembered it all, but it was something he couldn't share with her.
Lauren Hunter. She had appeared in his dream. The last few seconds he'd seen her. Seconds in which he had known he could and should have saved her, but had failed. It was useless going over the 'why now' of a memory like this.
He woke up again, only an hour after he finally had fallen asleep. The sun slowly peeked in and Callen watched how the woman next to him stretched like a cat in her sleep. Most wounds had healed fast. There were some fresh, deep purple stitches and a nasty, slow healing burning blister. And of course there still was the cast around her left arm and hand.
He carefully shove away some of the hair and kissed her neck, which made her yawn and stretch even more.
She opened her eyes, smiled warmly. "Hey," she said.
He smiled back. A boyish smile. Bad boyish. He then kissed her. Tenderly at first. Needing, then. Taking, and giving. Sharing.
Tenderly making love, like tomorrow could wait.
Thank you for reading. Yes, I do admit. The ending of this chapter was perhaps a bit too sweet. Hope you liked it anyway!