Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Chapter 8
Author's note: during one of the latest episodes we noticed how Callen has a softer side. He showed it to Joelle at first, didn't he? And yes, she disappointed him more than he tells her with words, it was simply shown in his expression.
In here, in this story, I feel he's again able to put aside most parts of his personal life, yet showing more care than we're used to see. Except perhaps for his half-sister and her son, for Finn or the boy Alex… I hope you recognize that same caring side in this story.
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"We did spot two different cars which appear to post by turn near the entrance and exit doors," Fatima said.
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Los Angeles || Alhambra Hospital
The large senior agent breathed in and then let the air escape with a huffing sound, assuming this was taking a wrong turn.
Callen shrugged and reasoned "Sam, it doesn't matter if they're checking the entrances. As long as they're outside, why care. It gives us time to find out what they are expecting? Waiting till she leaves?" He shook his head and continued. "They can't know if she survived or not, nor how their own men are doing. So what else, are they waiting for us to leave? Don't thinks so. Could it be they're waiting for orders to go and check, or for another assault?"
There was no response from Sam, so Callen went on "We need to prepare. I'd better find the doctor and ask for an honest opinion on Elisabeth's condition. The sooner we get her out of here, the better."
"We need reinforcements to pass these goons outside," Sam huffed.
Again, Callen shook his head. "What we need is improvisation. There are more ways to leave a hospital except for walking out to the carpark. Think big, big guy." He chuckled. "For instance, the helicopter deck. And how's that SEALs saying again, that 'the only easy day was yesterday'? Today, your task is easy, Sam. If the chopper won't work, see if you can hijack an ambulance. There's a separate entrance way for those, right?"
"Yeah." Sam didn't really sound enthusiastic.
"They won't stay there for always. C'mon, buddy. Use your imagination and get to work, like I should get to work too," Callen gestured with a faint smile.
A short 'ping' made both men glance at a message that appeared on their phones. "This changes the matter, G," Sam grumbled after reading Nell's message that Poliakoff left the boatshed.
Reading the worry in Callen's eyes too, Sam said: "Yeah, you go and make the arrangements that are necessary for her to leave. I'll see what we can do, with no permission to work the case any longer."
Callen rubbed his chin and slowly shook his head. "You know Sam, we may just as well skip the ambulance or chopper. See if Nell is willing to arrange a First Call Van, let's say with Roundtree as a driver. And see if she can come up with a fake post-mortem examination for the woman." He agreed with his plan himself. "Yeah, Sam, that'll be the best option so far. Make believe she died and have her leave the place through the most detested way out - the morgue."
His usual partner nodded. "I'd better make the necessary arrangements then. You're gonna be okay with that?"
"Well, I don't think they're going after you. But if they are…" Callen frowned. "There's no back-up, buddy."
In a way it felt offish, parting with his partner for years on a moment like this, not sure who they were dealing with.
"C'mon G. We've been in worse situations." Sam said.
"Yeah. Right. Not bored to death, so far." He nodded a 'good luck' and watched his friend leave.
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Nearly an hour later
Callen had told her what their reasons to believe they'd need to leave the hospital indeed, only confirming the same idea Elisabeth had herself. He glanced at his watch. "We still have to wait about 10 minutes," he said.
He paced the small room and pondered how to let her explain the fact that he discovered that there was a Romanian connection with the shooting. Finally, he leaned against the glass frame of the hospital room.
Her green eyes had followed him until he faced her again.
He scraped his throat and started "You know, this one guy, he... well, I..."
He stammered in a way that didn't suit a senior agent so he started over. "What I wanted to say was that one of these men who were there to assassin you, well, this man spoke in a foreign language which I understand pretty good. Romanian. So... I need to know, does the name Comescu sound familiar to you?"
She frowned and he literally saw her thinking how to respond. "Could be. Maybe one of them —"
"Whó are they?" Callen demanded. He sighed audibly, frustrated by her stubbornness. "Listen, we nearly have to go, and I nééd to know who we're dealing with."
Callen noticed she hesitated, even now.
Then she nodded. "They're Romanian, yes. And agent Callen, I'm sure they'll find a way to find me," she stated with a desperate deep sigh.
"There's this a way out we just offered, like I told you," Callen disagreed. His phone pinged, a sign they needed to go, although he still had no specific answer yet and he wanted to utter a curse, but managed to hold it.
"You ready?" he kept his voice neutral when he asked her.
Again, he explained what the next steps would be. He wore a blue lab coat now, and Elisabeth had been moved from the bed to a high gurney, her body covered under a white sheet that was strapped to the gurney. Once from the room and on their way to the elevator, he'd cover her face as well.
Eric had sent him a blueprint of the hospital on his phone, since this hospital was one of the unknown places to all of them. The corridor that was seen from visitors and patients had elevators from both sides. Staff, however, used a different one. They followed a smaller walk, passed the nurses desk, which ended with a staircase on the left and a service elevator opposite of it, on the right.
"Callen?" He heard her breathing out a bit too fast and he saw how she'd grasped the yellow bed rail, the knuckles of her good hand nearly white.
He sent her a comforting small smile. "You'll be alright, Elisabeth. We'll get away safely."
"Don't make any promises you may not be able to keep," she said. "You don't know who you're dealing with."
A lopsided smile appeared on his face, one she never caught. "You're right about that, and you owe me an explanation, soon. Honestly, Elisabeth, you hardly know anything about me or my team, and I'm pretty sure 'them' don't either. But hey, it's the other way around too. So, I expect you're gonna tell me all about your work and these people. So far, none of my team knows you're real name and I suppose that you want to keep it that way."
Her pose changed slightly to a more relaxed one.
"This is the moment. No more talking or moving," Callen said in a soft voice. He took the sheet and covered her face. "Turn your head. That way you can breathe in and out," he added.
He changed his own stance too. For anyone watching him shoving the gurney he was a nobody — desperately trying to avoid the public, trudging the long corridor, his shoulders hunched and a bored look on his face — someone who'd gotten used just a little too long working with people who never would talk back.
Still, he was on high alert since right now, anyone who past them might be an enemy too.
They reached the service elevator without any trouble though and Callen breathed out, feeling relieved so far.
He pressed the button so it went to a floor beneath the personnel entrance. The door opened one floor higher though, and he was glad there was no room for any other persons now the gurney was in it. Perhaps it was the way these two men appeared to scan faces, piercing gazes, however they ignored him. Only some minutes later, he managed to shove the upper part of the gurney into the Van, locking it in place and closed the doors from the inside.
Then he rapped the glass panel that separated the driver part from where he and Elisabeth now were. Devon Roundtree, dressed in a decent dark coat, turned around and opened the separation.
"We're good to go," Callen said. "To Odd Fellows, please."
"You sure you don't want me to drive you somewhere else? I mean... all this was just a means of getting out. And it worked." Roundtree reasoned.
He wasn't sure how Callen would take an advice. In fact, he wasn't sure about the other man at all. Different from all the other agents in the team he never worked with Callen like this before. Sure, in the office he had. But right now the senior agent wasn't to talkative
"Never mind. Odd Fellows is a good to go."
Meanwhile, Elisabeth had removed the white sheet and she inhaled deeply. "Even without us talking, I felt how you were alerted."
He sighed and nodded. "It was just a guess. Like I guess we got out in time."
"No one following," Roundtree agreed. "So, why the choice of driving to a cemetery?" He sounded like he looked and Callen understood how the younger agent wasn't accustomed to visiting places like this.
"Consider this to be a need-to-know," Callen muttered, not willing to explain any further.
As ever, I'm grateful for the kind reviews, the follows and favorites' you left!
TBC
Kni®benrots