Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Chapter 3
Authors Note: Told you before, this'll be a short story only, so don't blame me… Just love to hear what you're thinking!
Disclaimer: Aren't we all grateful that CBS & Shane Brennan came up with this team of special agents? Okay, even though the theme song is 'No Crew Is Superior', I disagree. This crew and these characters are perfect for the series! Also, to use for a story or so. So, thank you for making that possible too.
And as you all know, I live far from the City of Angels. Neither do I have a medical degree, so if you were to discover any odd facts in a previous chapter or this one, don't hesitate in letting me know.
Kni®benrots
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Alhambra Hospital
He could go back to the office and help Fatima and Eric, or work at the office and do what he detested most- finish more paperwork. Or, as the special agent in charge, he could go and assist his four co-workers on the street and try and find out what happened.
In all those cases he'd needed to drive half an hour either way.
Or he could stay and wait until this woman would wake up. The answers to all the questions would come from her.
Callen took the liberty to study the chart which was clipped at the end of the bed.
Not that he was a medical expert, and the numbers on it or on the small monitor above the bed he banned from his mind. But he understood there were bruised and broken ribs. And he knew how much that could hurt.
There was a serious headwound and a broken wrist, both as a result of being hit by a car. But then, there was a gunshot wound which miraculously only shattered a rib and grazed and damaged the spleen. It could've been worse, then again, why was she on the run and why someone had shot her?
He shook his head, more or less to himself. He took the chart and the pen and took a seat. There were just a few more things he read, things he knew he should not share unless she, herself, or a relative, would agree. An earlier scar of what appeared to be a knife wound. Despite his reluctance, he sent the little new info to Eric and Fatima. If it would help to identify this woman, it would be forgiven.
Callen couldn't recall any cases where a John or Jane Doe crossed their path before.
He took one of the empty papers beneath the ones with the info from doctors and nurses, and despite the fact he hated hospitals, he sat down with a blank backside of a file and the pen. Just in case he'd needed to note things.
Who was she? Who missed her, or was she living alone? Living in LA, or just a visitor? Not someone who was simply robbed. Dressing a wound like that, breaking in and getting changed, obviously to avoid the ones who were after her, it all required some kind of training. Missing fingerprints, ID or not being recognized by the usual facial recs meant something, but he didn't have any grip on what exactly that was. Yet.
Sitting here and observing a patient like he had been observed many times himself, he relaxed a bit more and he used his booted feet to make the chair lean against the wall and find the balance on its back legs.
He let his thoughts go over his own life. With Anna really doing volunteer work nowadays, he wondered how long he wanted to continue this job.
Whereas Sam was serious about selecting and coaching green agents, he wasn't too sure at all of the future plans. Handling and directing the team, or any new teams, from inside the office wasn't really his cup of tea. Besides, it fit Nell much better. Getting sidelined and inside the office never sounded exciting and in fact he thought he'd die of boredom within a few months. But well, the alternative was chasing the bad guys until he was too old and the inevitable retirement came.
Or worse, when one bullet with his name on it would destroy the life that he knew.
He wasn't Gibbs, but he wondered how his friend from Washington felt about being the senior. The Washington team worked different from theirs, that was true. Would he want to switch teams and move to the East coast? Probably not.
Perhaps he could switch to the secret service or for a close protection detail of a Hollywood star. Which, all in all, sounded dull as well.
He heaved a deep sigh. He actually wished he could go on working with Sam the way they'd worked together for the past fifteen years. Before that he was a loner. Going back to some kind of job like that wasn't what he looked forward to either.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || NCIS OSP || half an hour later
"We still have nothing, absolutely nothing, new to work with guys," Eric said, frustrated. He sent all team members a text message to have a joint meeting, all audio though.
"Not completely true," Fatima said. "It seems that LAPD located the motorcycles."
"Not the cyclists though. Not yet, I mean," said Eric. "Again, I let the new Kaleidoscope search. We're tracing them. The system recognizes built, posture. Should be possible."
Roundtree responded "If that is possible, why haven't you solved the identity of miss Jane Doe yet?"
"Wait for it," Eric replied. "It won't take long."
"Wanna bet who'll be first?" Deeks asked. "Perhaps we'll find out first. Or Grisha."
He did that on purpose, Callen knew. Still, he replied. "Jane in here may come from everywhere. She may even be European, Eric, or come from South America, or Russia. She's still out and so far nobody in here knows. Papers in here tell she's got green eyes. And she was stabbed in the past."
"That helps too," Eric mentioned.
"So... another update in an hour from now?" Sam suggested.
Sounds of agreement sounded and after Kensi added "Unless one of us finds out more about the bikers or the woman of course"
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Alhambra Hospital
A nurse peeked through the glass window of the door before she slid it open and entered the room. "Excuse me, Sir. I need to check the vitals. The doctor is on his way and this has to be done first."
"Of course." Callen got up on his feet, feeling like an intruder even more than before. It was worse now that he had to hand back the chart and pen.
"Was studying all of this," he explained while clipping it back where it belonged.
It didn't seem to bother the nurse. Perhaps visitors of patients were just as curious - Callen didn't know. In fact, he never had noticed anyone else doing this, except for Hetty. But Hetty was listed as the next-of-kin as long as he knew.
The nurse also seemed to take his presence for granted. In the corridor, Callen waited. The door stayed open, but he never felt the need to know or witness nurses work.
From a room opposite this one, another woman appeared. She addressed him. "Maxime's not ready yet?"
"She's the nurse? She's still in," Callen confirmed as he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.
The woman smiled his way. "Susan Geer, physician. You know this patient, how?"
Callen shook his head. "Not at all. I'm waiting for her to wake up and find out more. Federal agent, Callen, NCIS. Technically speaking our agency needn't be involved. But well, we are, so..." He didn't really have to explain all of it to a doctor, after all the security officers of the hospital knew why he was around.
"Well then," the doctor said. "Since you're not related, that means I don't have to discuss all the details with you."
Another polite smile came his way. "In your line of work you must know about gunshot wounds, I suppose. We reported it with the police, according to the laws. I suppose that is why you are around then."
Callen nodded and she continued.
"With enough rest, she'll experience no further damage from it. There is some inflammation though, but we're treating that already with the right kind of antibiotics. The bullet hit and fractured a rib, which on its turn damaged the spleen, but only lightly. All of the healing process should be observed, but all in all I don't expect any trouble from it after a month or so. What worries me more is the head wound, because of the possibility of memory loss."
That came as a surprise and he hadn't taken a thing like that into account. "When will we know for sure?"
"Any time soon now." The nurse excited the room and she obviously heard what the doctor and he'd talked about. Then she addressed her uniformed colleague "The eye movement changes and she's more restless too."
Geer nodded. "Good. Please wait in here," she told Callen.
He sure didn't feel the urge to observe any medical proceedings at all.
Only a couple of minutes later, Geer stood in front of him again. "Ready, agent Callen. She's all yours again. It's like Maxime already mentioned, she's very close to waking up. I'd like you to warn any of us the minute you think there's something wrong. For instance when the patient is in severe pain or completely panicking because she can't remember a thing."
"Off course."
"There's a panic button connected to the bed."
As if he didn't remember from all the times he'd be the one in a hospital. Callen nodded "I know, but hey, thanks for letting me know."
With only a slight nod of his head and a glance her way there was a greet, a thank you and a confirmation of all they had exchanged.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
His phone buzzed less than fifteen minutes later. Minutes during which Callen himself got restless.
He'd been checking apps and funny cat movies just to distract his mind of thinking of his own future. Would it be with NCIS? Would it be with Anna, or would this period of living apart, after a previous one in which she had purposely told him lies, be the end of their relationship after all?
He was up, then sitting again, and already regretting the fact that he'd chosen to stay around, since it wasn't really what suit him best. Doing nothing and let his co-workers do the things he was good at. Deducting, observing, making decisions. At this point, he felt bored and kind of lazy.
The fact that someone contacted him alerted him in a good way.
"Hey, Eric. What've you got?"
-"A hit, Callen. Listen up, this Jane Doe used to be called Elizabeth Sharden and she's a US Marshall."
"US Marshall?" Callen repeated.
-"That's what I said. Her picture was recognized by a superior after I posted it on several official government departments and agencies. Seems like I need to improve some of the –"
"Never mind, Beale. What did you tell the US Marshalls?" He heard some shifting in the bed and looked around. Large and light green eyes caught his gaze.
-"That'll be a Alexa Poliakoff and she's on her way to meet you."
"Great. Thanks, Beale."
Callen ended the call and focused his attention on the woman in the bed.
She inhaled as deeply as she could which obviously hurt. "They sent you?"
He shook his head. "Special G. Callen, NCIS. Ehm, our agency is involved because of the uniform you wore when you were brought in. By now we know you're not one of the military troups but just needed to borrow a uniform from a place you happened to visit. And to answer your question, we now know you're a US Marshall."
She nodded and moaned at the movement her head made.
"You're alright? Remember you hit your head hard, may be a serious concussion you're suffering from," Callen said.
"Yah," her voice croaked a little.
"Need to drink something? I could warn a nurse."
"It's okay. How do you know who I am?"
"Hm, my coworker just called. Facial recognition in the systems of the DOD and DOJ. One of your team is coming this way to assist. But first, tell me, you were shot. Do you know who did that?"
"Who?"
She didn't mean it as an answer to his question, Callen understood. Her request was related to his mentioning 'one of your team' and there was an urge to her need to know that made him realize that she wasn't at ease with it.
"Poliakoff," he answered. "Someone called Poliakoff."
For a brief second she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he read the disbelief in her eyes and knew something was wrong.
"Elizabeth… What about her?"
"It was her."
Callen kept his gaze on her face. There were two options. The woman he watched right now could be a rogue agent on the run for justice. He usually was quite good in judging characters and he believed he made the right decision right now as well. He muttered a curse, realizing all logic went on the blink and he grabbed his phone, dialed and without any other announces he said "I may need some back-up in here, Beale. Seems like things may turn out wrong after all."
TBC
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day
Sometimes the system goes on the blink
And the whole thing, it turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well, oh, that strong
And I'm not wrong (yeah, yeah, yeah)
[Daniel Powter - bad day]