A/N: I would like to thank those who have left reviews for the previous chapters, and for everyone reading this story. I know you're keen to know what's happened to Sam, Deeks and Gibbs, but you'll understand that this chapter needed to be written in the meantime. Please be patient with me, it will come.

It was a good thing Hetty had agreed for them to leave Flathead Lake, otherwise, Callen would have gone mad waiting for news on Sam, Deeks and Gibbs. They'd only just managed to get Deeks back onto the team, and now this—how could he look Kensi in the eyes and hide the truth that her husband could be dead? And there was his paranoia, wondering if someone within NCIS had gone rogue and found this picturesque hideout? No, he knew it was safer for them to return to Moresby Island at this point.

Keeping busy with the move was the perfect distraction, for him, Hetty and the rest of their group. Kensi presumed Callen's quietness was due to his health, never would she suspect there was something else brewing in the background. And Hetty would never reveal a thing to her agent, especially in her current condition. Kensi getting through this pregnancy was of highest importance. All she knew was that Sam and Gibbs had left to return to Los Angeles to close the case. Not even she was privy to the information of the black op her husband was involved in, over in St Petersburg.

The kids were excited, knowing they were returning to Moresby Island. Although, Alice was the only one who held fond memories of the island, the boys were eager for another adventure.

The west coast of Canada came alive in late spring, emerging green and steel grey rocks, where pure white snow had hidden it for the past five months—except for the mountains which continued to display the white peaks all through the year, and the glaciers which tried to survive against climate change. This part of Canada was wild in nature and a sight to behold. Cold aqua coloured rivers and lakes were a stark contrast against the craggy grey rocks which lived in harmony with them. Year after year, the water washed over the rocks to moulded them into smooth forms.

Yet, it was different on the Islands to what it was on the west coast mainland, and it was here where Callen and Thea had made a home for themselves—amongst the pine forests that towered around them like giants. The inlets were a dark liquid like ink when the clouds were grey, but today, the sun shined and the water sparkled in the sunlight—as if it was filled with precious jewels waiting to be discovered.

Unlike before when their cabin sat on the rocks overlooking the inlet, now, a larger one formed in amongst the forest, hidden from the prying eye. After the events that had gone down five years, earlier, Callen wasn't taking any chances.

John and Hetty flew their group in two planes which landed on the smooth inlet. There were no whales or dolphins breaching today, but they sometimes entered the inlet in search for fish in the warmer months.

The tight knot unfurled further in Callen's stomach, thankful they'd made it this far. Excitement bubbled under the surface, here, his father was brought to keep safe from the Russians who were after him. Now, Callen could see for himself that his father truly was safe and well.

He couldn't wait to jump down from the seaplane and see him. But such was his life and his injuries. He was the last to slowly climb down onto the jetty. As frustrating as it was, he had no choice in the matter.

"Are you okay?" Thea searched his vibrant blue eyes for the truth on how he was feeling, yet, she sensed he was holding back. Over the years he'd become better at dropping his walls around him, to allow her inside his heart. However, even now, she saw the old Callen emerge, and it had her on edge. What had he and Hetty discussed behind closed doors, which resulted in their haste move?

Her eyes shifted and scanned the area. From above, the island looked peaceful and safe.

"We're safe here," Callen reassured her.

"Yet, our last location wasn't?" She arched her brow in question, knowing that something was going down.

"Not sure. Better to be safe. Plus," Callen looked over as Alice ran excitedly into the welcoming arms of his father. "That!" Callen couldn't help himself but smile warmly at the glee which radiated from his eldest over seeing her grandfather.

"Papa!"

"Alice." Garrison spun Alice around and hugged her. His delight in seeing his granddaughter shone in his pale blue eyes. "This is a wonderful surprise finding you here."

"I didn't know you were here either," Alice told him, her face beaming. "Trist, Huddy, Papa is here." She danced around excitedly.

Garrison looked over at his son, his white brows furrowed with concern. He took a greedy breath, *who had hurt him?*

"You are looking much better." Natalia hugged Garrison with familiarity and warmth, it jolted Callen back into reality of what had actually happened to his father. John and Natalia had helped him escape from the hands of the Russians.

"Stephen." Garrison remembered to use his son's alias in front of the children. His voice vibrated with emotion. He'd been torn away from his children and grandson, yet it was Grisha he worried about the most, who'd grown up without family and his name for over forty years. Only to find out he had to continue living under the alias of Stephen Campbell for his and his family's safety. Whatever needed to be done. He knew this too well himself, since Garrison was not his real name either. Becoming a new person was a necessity for survival.

He reached out and grabbed is son's shoulders. His gnarled and weathered fingers pulled Grisha towards him for a hug. A sob escaped his cracked lips. "Who hurt you?"

Callen held on to his ageing father. Garrison was frail compared to the last time he'd seen him—the moment he thought was the final goodbye. "Tată."

The tears spilled down Callen's cheek, intermingled with his own father's tears. He held onto him as hard as his body would allow, making the most of this moment. He didn't know how long their time would be together, his father's time in captivity had aged him further.

"I am fine." Garrison pulled back, worry etched in his his faded blue eyes, as he scanned over his son. "What about you?"

"I am healing."

Callen noted the straightening of his father's body, how much did his father know? Did he have any idea about Mexico or his recent brush with death?

"You need to sit down and tell me everything."

"Not with the children around," Callen pressed.

"Of course not."

"We will take the children for a walk. They've been cooped up in the plane for too long." Kensi understood the need to get the children away from listening into the conversation she knew was going to take place. "Who wants to go for an adventure?"

"Me!" The four of them chimed.

Callen watched them skip and jump along the path that led away from the cabin into the woods. He took a steady breath and looked over to his wife and Hetty.

"We'll be busy preparing dinner." Thea took the hint to leave them alone.

"Thanks." Callen looked out the large window towards the inlet, framed by pine trees, which gave them the cover from the prying eyes of anyone who wanted to hurt them. He shuddered out a heavy breath and turned to give his father his attention.

"You've been gone a while, I don't know where to start." He fisted and released his hands.

"Let's start with who hurt you?"

"Which time?"

Garrison's eyes widened and anger simmered under the surface. "This time."

"Okay. Does the name General Kuznetsov sound familiar to you?" Callen watched his father closely at the name. Garrison's body tensed and his eyes widened at the name.

"I helped his daughter escape to the States to get away from her father."

"You gave her a new name, Shirley Cairns. Did you know she was pregnant?"

"Yes, I did. It's the only reason why I risked my life to save hers and her unborn child. The General was keeping close tabs on his daughter and son-in-law, it was the riskiest of all of the people I helped."

"It would have been best had you left her in Russia."

"What are you saying?"

"Her son grew up to become a spy for his grandfather. Somehow he discovered the truth over who he and his mother were, and about his father's death at the hand of his grandfather. He became CIA and rose through the ranks. When I started at Langley, I was placed with him and one other officer in Russia. I didn't even know who my family were back then, but Eric Cairns somehow discovered the truth about us at some point. I became his obsession after I over heard him speaking with General Kuznetsov, and realised they were family. He tried to have me killed—I would have died if it hand't been for the other office, a woman, who saved my life. I had no memory of the time in Russia from my near death experience, but the woman has come cleaned and told the truth."

Callen continue to tell him of the lengths Eric Cairns went to to lure him out from hiding to kill him, and the hunt for Nikita Reznikov. Garrison's knuckles went white from the tight grip he held onto the armrests.

"That bastard!" Guilt rested fully on Garrison's shoulders.

"Director Vance has left the illusion in place of my death. Cairns believes I am dead, and we hope this news has reached General Kuznetsov."

"I want to kill that man with my bare hands," Garrison roared. He spoke of the General, knowing of the evil he'd done in the past.

"We have some agents currently in Russia attempting to do just that, only—"

"What?"

"They missed their checkpoint to escape Europe."

Garrison's eyes darted back to the two sea planes docked at the jetty. He looked back at his son. "Where is Sam and Jethro, and that Detective who speaks too much?"

Callen drew in a sharp breath.

"No!" Garrison rose from the chair and paced. "They should never have gone there."

"He is the last of the risks on our family. They went to end the hunt on us."

"But not at the risk of their own lives. The General has way too many loyal men and women under him in Russia, it's not safe for any American to go in there. Even though the man is almost one hundred years old. He's a stubborn and hard man. He will have his men fight to the death for him. Even if he may look like he's at death's door himself."

Callen rose and walked over to his father. "We heard some news. The Russian Armed Forces sent in s couple of units to the place where the General was hiding in St Petersburg. No one survived."

Callen gripped his father's arm. "The General and his loyal soldiers are dead." He chewed on the inside of his right cheek. "We don't know," Callen tried to continue, "if Sam, Deeks or Jethro—and the agents with them—were caught up in this battle and became collateral, or if they escaped and couldn't reach their checkpoint in time."

Garrison wrapped his arms around his son, who had already lost his mother and sister at a young age, now it looked like he'd lost the brothers he'd gained in his adult life. "Trust in them," he whispered to his son, over and over, until Callen calmed down and stilled in his arms. "Trust their training."

"I'm trying," Callen admitted. "But Thea and Kensi, none of them know about this secret mission, nor of this other news. Only Hetty,"

Garrison nodded. "I won't say a word."