The Sting
Chapter 16
Disclaimer: all the original characters belong to CBS and Shane Brennan. I just used them for this storyline. And for once, I hope the showrunners will explore the many assets Callen has shown in the first seasons again in season 12.
Authors Note: Thank you so much for leaving a kind word and/or a critical review, dramamama5, BiancaChris, wotumba1, JeaneneP, Linda Wigington, Teresa, CallenFan, and Guest 1 and Guest 2.
This storyline is coming to an end, so please enjoy the read.
Kni®benrots
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital
Previously
Although he felt okay with Sam around, Callen was exhausted indeed and actually he didn't mind to have an hour or so alone, just to get the rest he needed. If only the stabbing pain would disappear. His usual tolerance to endure pain seemed to have left him completely right now.
That's why he nearly was grateful his partner was ushered out. He slowly exhaled and closed his eyes for a minute after the nurse closed the door once Sam left. He didn't really pay attention at her being inside with him, until again he felt how she let her gaze go over him. He expected she'd carry one of the standard trays with drugs, yet she didn't.
The moment he was about to ask if she had the right medication with her, she addressed him.
"So, you're the one responsible for the death of my brother. G. Callen. You know there's a price on your head, do you?"
Was he really surprised by a statement like this? He really didn't know. Too many times in his past he was confronted with people who were willing to revenge family members. Callen squinted his eyes, trying to see if there was something familiar. At that same time he realized how vulnerable he was at this moment.
It wasn't like he deliberately ignored her statement, he simply didn't know what to say to it. The many times his team members admired him for stonewalling the ones in the interrogation room, in order to get them to confess and start talking, well, he knew this time it was different. He wasn't stonewalling at all, he just had to process the information and the situation. A price on his head, issued by one of the endless list of people he dealt with in het past, but who?
Maybe she read the question in his eyes. "His widow is the one who issued all the recent information we needed about you," she told him, her dark eyes still fixed on him. "Too bad the shooter didn't succeed. It took us a few hospital visits to find you. The black car did it, again."
Again, he let go all the cases and faces pass his weary mind. Nothing came up, except for the fact Sam's car was far too easy to spot. Something he'd mentioned for what seemed ages ago, but never did his partner and he meant to deal with the issue as something seriously.
Next to that, the sentences in which she explained more still didn't ring a bell either.
"You're a bounty hunter then?" he asked, trying to keep her gaze at his face and her attention to his words only.
He had to win time, to let his weary mind work properly. Meanwhile, he slowly let his hand go over the cord which led to the patient alarm.
A grin appeared on her face as she snatched the button from his reach.
"Don't think you can outsmart me from your position no more, mister Callen. All we want is to definitely cut you off from interfering with our business in here and across the border. This is the town where I am in charge whereas my brother ruled it in Mexico."
Mexico.
"Williams."
In a flash he combined Mexico with a widow. So, this was a sister of the man? Mosley's sister in law?
She just nodded. "You're the one who ruined their marriage. Who abducted his son. No wonder Spencer's widow is after you. The boy, well, probably you were coldhearted and put him in child care and at the hands of a cruel foster parent…"
Never. Not him.
He shook his head. "You're wrong. The boy's with Shay. She was the one —"
The woman raised her hand to keep him from explaining any further, ignoring what he had to say. She went on. "You ruined our business too. General Vasquez is very, very eager to know how we definitely got rid of you. Definitely."
As in some kind of slow motion he simply observed how she took a small item from her suit. She folded it open and a razor-sharp knife was now in her hands. In a moment from now it would come his way and he already knew he wasn't in any condition at all to overwhelm this now furious woman.
In a matter of a few seconds he yanked the intravenous lines from the needle in his hand, as well as the cords that registered his vital signs. Having been hospitalized before, he knew it would alarm every nurse and every doctor nearby.
Within the same move he let himself roll out of the other side of the bed. He was fast, for a hospital patient. But far slower than he should be.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
NOW
Alarms sounded on the corridor and a light kept flashing above the door of the private room where Callen staid. Sensing that something was very wrong, it was Sam who was the first to arrive in the room he'd left only minutes ago. He was met with an empty bed and the sole screams of a flat line on the screen of the monitor.
"G!" he yelled. He kept his breath when he spotted an arm next to the bed. And then, much to his relief, he heard a groan and saw how Callen lay on the cold linoleum. Alert, but there was blood everywhere and he was curled up in pain.
"In here," Sam alerted the nurse and doctor as he kneeled beside his friend. "G…" he started but fell silent when his friend gasped "Find her. No nurse."
Medical assistance was all around immediately and there was nothing he could do but watch how the four people started working on his friend.
He got back on his feet, making way and slowly letting the incident sink in. In the corridor there were more people watching what the alarms were about and when Sam overlooked the small crowd, he noticed the nurse. As it was the other way around. She turned on her feet to get away.
"Stop!" Sam shouted.
His order came in vain, of course. One more look at what went on behind him, he knew that medically Callen got the attention he needed.
His heart rate went up. A nurse who wasn't a nurse and who attacked his partner... and he didn't see it coming. Never had he imagined a danger coming from someone within. Not in this part of the hospital, where the security was supposed to be tight. Somehow this person slipped through the mazes and managed to get near Callen, so near that she could attack him. This small young, dark haired woman was an enemy. She was on the run already and once he motioned to the people around to make room, he went after her. He was faster though, as ever. She looked around, his way.
He did see how she threw away something. He did see how she headed to the stairwell. He did see how she - again - looked around, checking how far he was behind. He yelled at her again "Stop, federal agent!"
And then, once more looking over her shoulder, she collided with a visitor who came running up.
Then, much to his shock, he saw how she stumbled and fell down the concrete stairs.
There were cries, gasps and mumbles from behind him, from up and down the stairs and in a blink of an eye he knew from experience there was no way she survived this. The edge of her upper body in comparison with her head, the small pool of blood he noticed from underneath her head and the stare – Sam had seen too many people dying and this was one of these times.
Still, he trotted down for a definite check. He kneeled beside her, felt if there was a heartbeat. None.
No papers. Only thing he found was a key-cord with a name tag – was this the real Anita Franz or an imposter? Sam supposed she sneaked in while borrowing a uniform.
Would Callen know more?
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Half an hour later, Sam still didn't have any new information. He had shared pictures with Nell and Eric of the deceased woman.
He'd let security know what happened and while they made sure they made fingerprints and have them send to his coworkers, they took care of the rest of it – have the corpse removed and have the surroundings. LAPD was around in case eye witnesses needed a debriefing.
Get proof that Callen's words were right, that the woman was no nurse. The uniform was borrowed, just like he expected.
In the meantime, he'd informed Hetty and Deeks what had happened.
And now he was doing what he'd done before: wait until there was news about his partner.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Office of Special Projects, later
"Monica Williams. Who would've thought Spencer Williams had a sister?" Nell mentioned. Their systems came up with the identity of the woman by the fingerprints and pictures which Sam sent.
"You think we need to get that other woman protected any longer?" Eric asked no one in particular.
"Callen's guardian angel you mean?" Deeks tried.
Nell shook her head. "Don't call her that, Marty. Yes, what Eric means is whether or not we ought to protect Ioulia Anghèl any longer. In fact, I doubt it is necessary. I mean, it must have been pure accidental that she was around, observing what went on and decided to save Callen's life. It's not that they were after her, after all."
"To think we assumed it was about Comescu," Deeks said. "Although, that guy is somewhere up there as well and I wonder… does it ever stop? Like vultures floating around or watching other predators attacking… Did we have the Williams' in your 'key-s-se-key', Nell?"
Nell shook her head and shrugged. "Didn't have a clue. Perhaps there's more we're missing."
"I agree with you, Nell," Kensi said. "Besides, they definitely made an attempt on Callen's life only." She let out a deep sigh. "This is all so twisted, guys. You know what? I'm going to have Hetty ask director Vance if by any chance Mosley can be reached. Even with her and the boy in a protection program and with a new government issued identity, he should the one able to reach her, right? The intel she used to get to the cartels now is used, probably by Vasquez and his men. Still, with everything we found, it's only Callen's identity they have on their hitlist. Why?"
"And does Callen know?" Eric wondered. The needed to wait until the agent in charge would be able to answer the question himself.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital || two days later, halfway the morning
No way Sam was leaving the place again. By now, he and Anna took turns in accompanying Callen. True, it got his partner quite cranky by now and wanting to get out of the place as soon as he could.
After the attack it took doctor Lee another round of surgery. The knife Monica Williams had used on him was meant to kill. And although it didn't, it did cut deep in his left upper arm and went through muscle and sinew. The action of saving his own life also effected the wound in his abdomen and damaged the previous one even more.
"What do you mean 'she is gone', Sam?"
"Like I said," Sam nodded, "Gone. Nowhere to be found. We don't know what happened, nor does her agency know, Callen. Kensi and Deeks went to tell the guards at the Good Samaritan, where she was treated, that there no longer were any threat's to be expected. Contrary to you. But then again, nobody knows where she is. It looks like she's vanished. Not in a morgue, not in any other hospital."
He let out a deep sigh and decided that it was best to be completely honest with his friend. "You know, Eric managed to delete the online hitlist yesterday. It's only you on that list. Thin is, it keeps coming back. By now we've found it popping up again four times already."
He hated it, being in here and feeling useless and restless.
"But it shouldn't be that hard for Eric or Nell to find the origin, Sam. I mean, if it is Vasquez who's behind it, Eric would be able to attack that network someway." Callen argued. "Kill the connection, place a digital bug, destroy the original post, something like that."
"Don't think they don't try, man. I mean, I wouldn't tell you if we already had managed."
"Can't you make them try harder? Have someone else's help fly in. If the Williams have more connections here in town…"
Callen didn't finish his sentence. Sam would understand. Sure, the big guy meant to stay until Anna was back in here, there was a guard in front of his room as well, so everyone figured he was safe in here as he was. Of course he knew his team was working hard on his case.
Being in a hospital sucked. In only a couple of days two attacks were made on his life, he'd had surgery twice, he never got a chance to thank Ioulia Anghèl and no one had a grip, yet, on this situation.
Yeah, it truly sucked.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Office of Special Projects || four days later
Like nearly every Saturday morning Hetty arrived at 11 o clock sharp at the office where she was expected for a weekly PT session which would start at 11.30 am.
Slowing down, she turned her silver Jaguar into the small parking next to the main entrance. She got out of the car and headed for the keypad next to the heavy wooden door. Much to her surprise, a green light already awaited her. Someone else had turned off the alarms. Never the therapist, since he didn't have a code to enter, hence her earlier arrival.
With no cases going on, who would be around? She expected it to be the analysts who mostly had some programs running and meanwhile used the gym.
She dropped her too large tote bag took off her coat and looked around. Nothing at the ground floor that stood out. She looked up and noticed the faint light coming from the Ops. Like she foresaw.
She took the 21 steps up and pressed the green button to open the sliding doors with a faint smile.
She was awaited with several pictures shown on the big screen. None of them she knew of. She saw Kensi and Callen lying down in the dust of what she figured was Mexico. From what she saw it must've been from immediately after of the accident in Mexico.
There was a screenshot with the information Sabatino sent them, months after the team was active again, with the exact information which lately kept popping up, even though the analysts deleted it from scratch.
A picture of Sam's Challenger shown at several crime scenes, and every time with Callen leaning against it.
Deeks' bar.
Mosley and Callen, openly discussing something which Mosley obviously didn't like.
Mesmerized, she took in everything she saw at Ops. It included a neat package of a standard issued NCIS bulletproof vest, atop with his badge. Next to it his laptop, opened. She shouldn't peek, but she did. An mail in concept, addressed to Leon Vance.
"Ah, dear boy..." She protectively hugged her own shoulders when a pang of sheer and plain regret and pain literally swept through her small stature. She inhaled deeply, knowing what his intentions were.
She shook her head and closed the laptop rather roughly, startled immediately after by two shots that sounded. With another gasp, she spun on her heels only to realize it came from the shooting range. Only a few more steps further, she observed him.
Gun in his non-dominant hand, the arm still recovering, he stood there. Shooting and hitting another two shots, center mass.
Then Hetty saw him replacing the magazine, changing his position only slightly before he aimed again, with his dominant hand this time. Quick shots. Twice the elbow, twice the wrist, in less than 5 seconds. The last two shots were bulls eye on the farthest of the paper sheets.
'Dangerous perfection,' she thought, with a strange feel of pride.
Callen dropped his gun on the shallow partition bar and stumbled half a step back and sort of collapsed against the glass partition wall, curling over his right hand which leant on his left hip, just for a little while to try and deal with the pain he still experienced. He still felt far too weak.
Callen closed his eyes for a brief second. In that very same second he sensed he was being watched. Only she did that. He clenched his jaw and shook off the idea of being nabbed. Then again, he didn't have the energy to face her when by now he also realized she'd checked everything in Ops.
"Not now, Hetty," Callen said.
Only he'd know she was there, no one else in the team had that same sixth sense. By the look on his face, he was in pain and in a way she felt sad knowing he wasn't in the mood to talk.
She decided to try it anyway "Now, these were marvelous shots, Mr. Callen."
"Gotta be able to shoot to protect," he replied without catching her gaze. He never shared his inner thoughts, not yet.
"Now, we're talking about self-protection, I presume, Mr. Callen?"
That way he bit the inside of his cheeks — Hetty knew how he did that when something bothered him.
His short reply "Maybe."
"You're going off the grid." Her voice quavered just a little.
This time he faced her, his blue eyes colder and harder than she'd seen before. "Listen, Hetty. As long as the geeks are unable to stop this… this thing, those list, the others won't be safe. I — it's not okay being with me around. I'd better leave so the others won't be in danger."
She pursed her lips just slightly when she stated "We all know general Vasquez is a dangerous enemy to face on your own."
He clenched his jaw when his eyes spit fire and he smirked "So what you're saying is that I'm in no condition to defeat him."
Callen stretched his shoulders, grabbed his gun and strode out of the shooting range, ignoring how she still stood there.
"Oh boy…" she murmured. Then she went down the stairs and went through the contents of her bag until she found her phone. She let her thumb go over the contacts until she found the number she needed, pressed it and waited until her call was being answered.
"Listen… I think we have trouble coming ahead," she said. "I suggest you come over here and pick up Mr. Callen."
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || 631 Veteran Avenue || several hours later
She used the knocker to announce her arrival and smiled when she heard someone coming near to open the door. It was Anna who opened the door and let her in. Barefoot and wearing a short summer dress – Hetty only appreciated the fact that Callen obviously was completely at ease having her around.
"Miss Kolcheck... I cannot repeat how glad I am that you came around this morning. I suppose you sent Mr. Callen straight to bed."
"That's okay, Hetty." Anna send her a smile and motioned to the wide-open garden doors. "He needs his rest more than he wants to acknowledge, but this restlessness makes him… I don't know..."
She lead the older woman whom she knew saw Callen as the son she never had, further in the living room. "Please, take one of the other chairs in the garden, Hetty. And let me get you something to drink," Anna said. "Some lemonade perhaps."
Hetty spotted him on a deck chair, placed under a parasol. From a shorter distance she observed him, knowing he was asleep.
She shook her head. Time passed by too fast. No longer did he have these boyish features, yet there was still something innocent and vulnerable now when he slept, contrary to his behavior and sturdiness when she witnessed him when he was at work or the angry and cold way he addressed her that morning.
With the hot summer weather, he was shirtless and wearing a pair of sport shorts only. He'd definitely lost weight in this week. And even from where she stood, she was appalled by the unruly way the deep purple stitches were visible on his pale bare skin.
It made her swallow away the fear she felt, even now, that it would take only a second to lose him when the time came. And she'd be never ready to live with that scary thought.
"Hetty?" Anna saw how the older woman shivered shortly. "It's okay to stay inside, if you prefer."
"No dear, outside will be just fine by me."
She followed the young woman who placed the tray with three glasses of lemonade on a small table next to two comfortable chairs. The soft tinkle of the ice cubes probably woke him, or perhaps it were their soft voices.
Callen slowly opened his eyes, knowing he knew his company. Getting up from the position he was in right now would be quite a struggle, he knew, and so he turned away from both women and took his shirt. With some effort he managed to put it on before he faced his boss and his girlfriend.
Before he said a word, he sipped some of the cool beverage. Stalling her a little, knowing she would be the first to say a word.
"I brought you back your laptop, Mr. Callen. You left it in the Ops center this morning. Somehow, it seems it didn't want to save the items which were opened when you left it."
She lifted an eyebrow like only she could, observing the impact of her words.
Tense, so tense that his shoulders cramped, he was back in the same angry mood of that morning. "So basically you decided to delete the information, that's what you're saying. MY private information."
Again, his eyes bored in hers in a way she never wanted him to.
She took her glass and appreciated the freshness of the lemonade. Slowly, she put it aside again and shook her head.
"Grisha… Perhaps you are right and leaving is the best option indeed. I made the decision to inform director Vance about that."
He let the breath he kept escape through his nose and nodded "You mean you're okay with it."
TBC.
Thanks for leaving a review!