Yes, this is the very last chapter indeed. Even I feel sorry that the story came to an end! Thank you so much, all of you, for reading & reviewing. I tried to thank all those readers that are logged in, but never said 'Thank you so much' to all the readers/guest that encouraged me to go on.
Well, here it is, to you: Thank you!
Thank you too, CBS & Shane Brennan, for having me use G. Callen and his team in this storyline.
-36-
He still did not know. As far as he had seen, there were two persons and it was only in a flash Callen thought he recognized Chris. He could handle only one capturer, but so far he knew not if there were any more.
"Emma?" He needed to know what it was she saw. "Emma?" In one way or another, he did not seem to reach her. Being a seasoned agent, it worried him just a little. Working on his own never bothered him. Actually, he'd done that for years and only recently, he had worked undercover far over two months without the immediate backup of his team.
Still, Callen was never reckless and if it was Vayavich in there with Chris and if he wanted him in custody, he simply needed evidence and manpower. He sighed. It would take at least over half an hour before Sam, Kensi and Deeks might be around to help him.
He took his phone and decided to call Sam. Deep within, he smiled, knowing his partner and best friend would not take it too well to get called out of his first hours of sleep. Nor would he be happy to know Callen was already out on his own. As ever, Sam would lecture him about his 'lone wolf tendencies'. Well, he'd have to cope with that, he thought.
Right before he had the chance to press the predialcode, he heard the smallest of noise behind him. Just too late to react and something hard hit his head and he got knocked out.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
The shower, the fruits, beverage and Advil helped but Chris sensed it would not be good enough. By the time she had to walk to the small house in the back garden, the shivers were back again and breathing hurt so much that she was afraid to breath in deep.
How was she going to get away from this place if she felt like this?
Rudely, Dmitri pulled her down the hidden place again. "Now, you and I should have some fun again. I'm sure you feel up to that, 'moy Angel'"
She was nearly fainting as he pulled up her cuffed hands up at the same place to the wall, screamed but nearly felt too weak to resist. "Please, no more", she tried.
The alarm that sounded in this underground bunker made Vayavich stop from what he wanted to do.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
The phone on the bedside table rang some times before Sam finally realized it was his phone in real life. When he was in this second phase of sleep, Sam had trouble to wake up. At home, Michelle had more than often woke him so he'd be in time to rush to the office, to pick up Callen or to be at the incident scene in the same pace as his team were.
This time, his sleepy mind had some trouble. The number that appeared at the display was not one he recognized.
"Hello?"
"Mister Hanna? This is Emma Sutherland. I think there's something going on that is not right. I mean, agent Callen—"
Suddenly very alert, Sam interrupted. "Callen? What about him?"
"Well, it seems to me that he disappeared. It's odd you know and I called Hugh who is about to find out as well. Maybe—"
"Crap Emma. You sent White to find Callen? Where?"
Sam was already standing next to his bed when he had asked Emma to keep trying to gather vids and to share it with Eric and Nell. Luckily, he knew their numbers by heart.
As soon as he disconnected the call of Emma, he called Kensi and Deeks so the three of them could go and find the hardheaded, inalterable team leader who might be in more trouble than Callen himself might realize.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Maybe she had passed out for some moments. It had been quiet for some time in Chris's opinion. Then, there was his grim voice again. "Surprise-surprise! Such an unexpected visitor Chrissy-girl."
Weak as she was, she opened her eyes and much to her despair, she noticed an unmoving, handcuffed Callen who slowly started to regain consciousness. They had put some ducktape over his mouth.
"No!" She gasped.
"Yes, dear. Maybe he'll like to watch, we don't know but we'll soon find out."
"No, you would not", she stated. Then, Chris started panicking as White came closer and grabbed her hair. "How did you manage to get him in here, with help of Emma? Are you wired, again?"
Then he scowled at Vayavich and started yelling. "You have checked on her, haven't you? Dammit, she's fooling you Dmitri. And now all your plans are ruined. No way can we trade her for the cyanide right now. It is at the base, I know, but I suppose they all know by now we work together. All because of this keen bitch". On that, he punched her hard in the stomach, so bad Chris could not breathe. There was no way she could curl up like her body shouted for. She closed her eyes and moaned, trying to control her breathing once again. When she finally opened her eyes, she noticed Callen was angrily moving, not able to do anything though.
"Stoj! We will find a way. We should get rid of this agent, 'da, Borya? Вы знаете, девушка теперь моя.', you know the girl is mine now," he said in a sly voice. "But you can watch first, you know she's a good fuck."
'Hell no…' Unable to do anything with the ice cold anger that raged through his body, Callen was nauseous by what he heard and from what he knew was inevitable by now.
"You can't do that! No-no-nooh!"
Hearing her beg, cry and suffer was heart wrenching. For once, Callen felt completely helpless. He could close his eyes but would never get rid of the bitter ill-feeling of this moment.
Both men raped her, again. Her cries had ceased, there were only the silent sobs that were even worse. "Liked it, moy angel? Did you like you boyfriend to watch? Now you watch, because it is time to say goodbye."
White had pulled his gun and carefully aimed at a defenseless Callen.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Emma had guided them to the house and they had speeded, feeling that things got really nasty with Callen nowhere in sight.
Guns drawn, at the ready, they ran quickly to the summerhouse in the garden. Counting down on three, Deeks opened the door, on which an alarm started to go off.
"Go-go-go!" Sam gestured, and the three of them backed off and left the place immediately.
It did not take long before the noticed a large man coming out from a small door, hidden behind a cupboard. White.
Deeks could cope with him. Well, with a little help of Kensi who swiftly kicked the tall man in the crotch which should hurt extra at this moment.
Carefully, Sam took the same door as White had used, not prepared though from what misery he found.
"You are going to be the one to decide, mister," a soft voice came from the dark. "You don't know but I've got a gun pointed at both your partner as on the girl. There's one of them who'll die immediately and the other, well, might go straight after."
"After you." Sam bluffed and he was well aware of that. In this dark and black place, his eyes had no time to adjust, it simply would not work. For once, he and Kensi, who was right behind him, were completely blind indeed.
"Sam, he's aiming at Callen!" Chris shouted.
There was one shot in the room. Two more followed.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Someone talked to her, and from farther away she heard voices that sounded slightly familiar. Voices of people she knew she should trust. Trying to focus wore here out.
Some small drops of warm rain fell on her face, and there was the comforting feeling of a cool hand gently brushing away the curls that were plastered to her face with sweat from her forehead. It made her eyes tear. No need to be afraid anymore. She tried to breath in the fresh air now, but the pain inside her body was too great and she drifted back into the feverish dark.
To Deeks it was a kind of a flashback. Again, a bullet wound and again, it was Chris Young who had been shot. Not as bad as before but she was looking terribly right now. With his experience as a LAPD detective, he had seen women after they had been brutalized and raped and he could only guess what she'd gone through.
What shocked him even more was the fact that Callen was crying when he held her.
The head agent always seemed to be in control over his feelings, hiding things he did not want others to know or see. This raw emotion was a complete new thing to Deeks and for once, he was quiet.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
The team had come back to Los Angeles earlier, except for Callen. He had wanted to stay with Chris, even though she was unaware of that. He even had his wounds checked, because of the earlier head wound and the hit on his head after that. A minor concussion, that was all.
Her condition was far from good. A broken rib had perfused a longue, the one that had been punctured before and which was already bothering her. Both shoulders were dislocated and the left clavicle was broken.
Worse were a damaged kidney and a ruptured spleen. When she finally was allowed to be transported, it was to Los Angales as well.
Hetty had arranged a place at the Cedars-Sinai, at the same security level that she used for her agents, if necessary. She was not ready to leave a hospital yet. Drifting into deep sleeps, her body was working hard to fight infections. There was progress in it, definitely.
After some days, Dr. Lee had decided to change medications, so that Chris would be more awake. Unfortunately, she reacted to them the same way Callen did. There were nightmares. That was what Callen had noticed, and he had decided to help her to fight them.
It was during one of the lunch breaks when he and Sam had paid her a visit that she was completely awake and completely panicking.
When Callen tried to calm her down, it was Sam who discovered that her nightmares became theirs.
Next to the flowers on her bedside table, there was a card that had said 'thanks for the good times, moy angel'. I win'.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
The very tiny woman who sat next to her bed was dressed in a bright, white suit with a large brooch. She quietly drank from a cup, obviously enjoying the hot beverage in it. From behind the glasses, there was a wise and knowing look.
"So, how are we feeling today, Miss Young?"
Chris had not seen the woman before. The physician she talked to before was a male and dressed as a physician. He had told her that after spending one full week in the naval hospital in Guam, where she had nearly spent all time in a sleep, she had been transferred to Los Angeles, where she was now.
"You may call me Chris, Doctor."
The eyes of the woman smiled at her. "Oh, but I am not your doctor, Miss Young. No way would I have the skills nor the patience for that. I was asked to come and see you. So, tell me, how are you feeling?"
"The pain is still there, but it's bearable."
"That is the physical pain. How about the rest?"
"I've talked to a shrink in here. You haven't shared files?" Chris was not too sure about how she was dealing with the rest of what happened. She'd have to deal with it, but sharing was not one of the things she wanted to do."
"As I said, Miss Young, I am no doctor. What I do for a living is sending my teams of agents everywhere they need to be."
"You're NCIS too, like Callen and Sam?" Never had she imagined a handler looking like this woman.
"It surprises you, I can see that. Yes, I am. I'm in charge of the Los Angeles operations and the boys, with Miss Blye and detective Deeks are the best team I handle. Now, what you've gone through was a terrible ordeal. Not everyone is able to handle that."
"Have to. There's nobody else to handle it for me."
It sounded harsh to Hetty. This young woman was a loner, used to deal with what life threw on her. Of course Hetty had read files, probably even more than Miss Young knew that existed, about her life and career. Though she did grow up in a normal family, her parents split up when she was young and her mother died soon after. No real attachment to the father and the brother since she'd gone to a boarding school in the states. Hopping from job to job without getting too attached.
"I was so afraid that I could never get out, and then there was Callen. I wanted to feel safe. Instead of that, he—I was—And he had to watch. I can imagine he left."
Hetty frowned. "He left? What makes you think that, Miss Young?"
She shrugged and her gaze drifted away from the investigating eyes of the older woman. "He's not been around the last couple of nights."
"Mr. Callen visits you at night?" It surprised Hetty, yet it was so typically the way Callen acted. She knew he came to visit this woman at lunchtime every other day, if there were no ongoing cases.
"I can feel he's around. It's not that he's talking all the time, but," and she reddened now, deciding that she could trust this very small but wise woman, "he, ehm, he helped me getting through some bad nights."
"Chase the nightmares," Hetty concluded. Who would know more about those nightmares but Callen? "How bad is it, dear?"
Again, Chris shrugged.
From what she had heard and seen and from what she could conclude from that, Hetty had to acknowledge that the young woman came back from Guam in pieces. Beaten, bruised, and broken. Callen had been forced to witness some of the violence and notwithstanding they all knew that, he'd refused to talk about it either.
A deep sigh was followed by a series of serious of coughs that Hetty knew must hurt. When they finally stopped, she worriedly asked "Alright now? I could call for a nurse, maybe you need some medicines for—"
The way the younger woman interrupted, her eyes hardening and her voice sounding colder, reminded Hetty of Callen himself. "No medicines. I want to sleep."
Hetty then put her hand on the other woman's arm. The warmth of the touch brought tears in Chris' eyes.
"I understand, Miss Young. Along with the medicines, the nightmares are unescapable. But without them, the pain will keep you awake and your body needs to heel. It can only heel from rest. One of my best agents suffered from severe nightmares some years ago, I shall ask the physician if he can prescribe some drugs that will do the trick."
"Thank you," she whispered. "Was it Callen, with the nightmares?"
"Yes, dear."
"I hope they're gone by now. He doesn't sleep well." Then she started crying. "I remember how happy I felt and it seems like ages ago. He—we—well, I finally had the guts to tell him and show him how I feel. And I wished the feeling was still there. But he has left, Miss Lange, and I can't blame him. He should be happy, find someone who has not been—"
Now it was Hetty's turn to cut off the words of the other woman. "Mr. Callen is on a mission, Miss Young. He'll be back soon, I promise you. Now, get some rest will you. I'll ask Doctor Lee to come and discuss the medication thing with you. And as a matter of fact, I will discuss your leave from the hospital as well. There's no better place to stay as a place one feels at home."
On that, the stood up and made some decisions that she shared with no-one, so far.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
He tossed his go-bag on the floor, keys on the kitchen's counter. Then, Callen opened the fridge and took a bottle of beer from it. After a deep sigh, he opened the bottle and took a few sips of it.
The mission they came back from was a frustrating one without any success. The team was constantly one step behind. The simple fact that Dmitri Vayavich had escaped once more and had come that close to Chris in the hospital had been scary, but every lead had been in vane so far.
He was too tired to go and see Chris in the hospital by now and it disheartened him there had been no opportunity to let her know he was doing okay. From what he heard from Hetty was that she visited her every twice so far.
The slightest sound in his dark living room made him draw his gun.
"Hetty! I should have known it was you! You're going to get yourself killed if you leave me in the field any longer. You're lucky I'm as sharp as ever," he smiled at the older woman he grew so fond of.
"Just wanted to make sure you're alright and share one of these," as she held up her own bottle of beer.
Suspicious as ever he said "Come on Hetty. It's not the way you check on me after each case. What's in the hat?"
The broad smile on Hetty's face made clear that something was going on that he had no idea of. Callen looked around in his sparsely furnished living room. All seemed intact. His chess board, the books, even that odd plant she had bought him before. The small box on the mantelpiece was left untouched.
Just as he noticed the only change, there were shots, multiple, never-ending shots, coming from his bedroom.
Seeing Hetty paling he did not know what to expect. Gun ready he ran as fast as he could. There she stood, feebly and pale, but god, he loved the sight of her being there, alive.
Just a few steps he needed to take away the gun from her hands.
There lie Dmitri Vayavich. He found her. She won.
He softly guided her away from this room which had been transformed to a real bedroom. Hetty's work, of course, and took her to the living room where he sat her down in his chair. She wanted to cuddle against him, instead she nestled into his big chair which made her feel safe just as well.
Callen looked up at Hetty and said, his voice strained "He was here."
She raised her eyebrows. "He was?"
"He is. I want her out of here," he softly told Hetty.
"Oh Mr. Callen, why?"
"It was a bad idea and I knew it. I'll leave." Despite the soft discussion and despite the shock, Chris had heard what he said. Callen probably never wanted her in his life, it was exactly what she had told Hetty.
"Give me just a minute, I'll take what's mine. Maybe you can call a taxi and maybe one of you knows a place to stay." She sounded strong but deep down something felt like she was dying and she had to look away as she knew tears were misting her eyes.
"Chris, no! I just—you just need to get down, need your rest. But not in that room, not with his body, not with those memories."
Callen suddenly realized he did it again. He should learn to communicate just a bit better.
"What I want, Chris Young, is to find you a place where you can be safe. A place for you to heal. A place where you can stay. With me. For now, this place is haunted."
"Mr. Callen?" Hetty caught his attention.
"What?"
He noticed the keys dangling on her index. "Take the Jaguar and my beach house. Now shoo, get there, both of you. Promise me there will be time to smell the roses. I'll take care of all the mess in here."
"How about it, Chris? Will you join me? I'll gladly be the one who chases all your nightmares for the next hundred years, if you will allow me to".
The sudden bright sparkle in her eyes said it all.
Yes, all of you. This is it. A sweet end to this story. Hope you all enjoyed it... Thank you so much for reading!