Pins, bullets and journals
Chapter 14
A/N: Thank you so much, all of you, who read and reviewed the previous chapter! In case I make some stupid mistakes in describing medical situations: I certainly am not an expert so all I do is check on the internet to find out as much as I can.
Disclaimer: Of course, any resemblance with actual persons, places, buildings, and addresses are purely coincidental. This means that names, locations or incidents which come by in this story are simple fictitious. All, except for the ones who were made up by CBS, Shane Brennan and R. Scott Gemmill
~ No action required from you except following this car and stay discrete until my next instructions ~
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Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects
Shay Mosley re-entered the office and went straight forward to the chest of drawers which was used as some kind of kitchen unit which the office lacked. She took an empty mug and asked "You want some coffee?"
Hetty shook her head. "No thank you dear. I'd better brew myself a pot of tea. That is, of course, when time is on our side." She pushed up her glasses just slightly and added "Thank you so much for what you did, so far. So, which team did you say are joining the youngsters?"
Mosley pulled her eyebrows together. "I didn't say anything about it at all, Lange. But since you ask… Bates is sending a team of the good LAPD guys to go and follow them. We may go and find out everyone's position."
She poured herself a cup of coffee and offered another one, again, to the other woman. "Let's see how Ranisha can tell us about the route so far through the city."
This time, Hetty shook her head once again. "No coffee allowed in Ops, that's the rule. And frankly, Shay, I'd feel a lot better if we got on our feet and on the road again. No matter how soon or how late Roger Bates is able to assist us, there is no better place than to be in the field with so much going on. So, I suggest you take one of the faster cars, and let us plug in with Miss Singh's line as well."
An odd kind of smirk appeared on Mosley's face. She nodded and motioned the older woman to follow.
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Los Angeles || 405
Mauro was a good driver — focused, driving never too fast, keeping in lane — anything to avoid drawing attention while on the road.
Riding shotgun was usually what Callen did, but not like now, hot like this. Moving was impossible, not even when he did his utmost. He wiggled a little on the car chair, but in vain, it was useless.
In the same weird high voice Mauro nearly chuckled "Don't worry about that. Relax. Moving is, well, overrated in your case." He took his cell phone and put it on a holder on the dashboard.
All Callen discovered on it was the route they were driving on right now. So far, he hadn't seen the small black-and-white finish flag on the screen. Another place to wait? And if so, wait for what… Some kind of exchange, him for the information Hetty was to deliver? He seriously doubted it. It was more probable that Mauro simply followed orders from Paul Angelo, and that he was taking Callen to some final location simply to get rid of him. Again, it was impossible to struggle, or it had to be mentally.
Could it really be that this was it?
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Los Angeles || Vista del Mar
- "Mosley?"
- "Yes, Eric?" It sounded less sharp. The distance was different, Eric assumed. Perhaps she was in the burner room, he figured..
"How about that back-up team?"
There was some humming and more background noises but then the reply came. - "Less than five minutes behind you. But may I remind you - no action to be taken without my permission."
"But—"
- "Do you understand, Beale?"
"Sure. Yes, boss."
She tapped out the connection and Mosley shook her head. "You think it was a wise decision?" she asked her companion.
Henrietta Lange sat straight up in the passenger seat, though she hardly had a clear view over the dashboard and the hood of the large Ford, and she observed the traffic ahead. After a silent few moments, she replied "It was about the only choice you had. And in the end that was the choice you made, and it doesn't matter how hard it was to make it. It matters that you did."
Mosley exhaled through her nose in a huffing noise. Had she ever expected the former operations manager to be agreeing to any of her decisions? All she knew that Hetty Lange was good at this game and she would not give away all of her thoughts. Instead there were statements like this, which could make everyone guess what she really meant. And she had a point. It had been her own decision indeed to send in Eric Beale together with Nell Jones. She sighed and stated "But you're worried."
Hetty shook her head several times. "Why, of course I am. There's no way I can sit here and do some chit-chatting while the life of..." she hesitated another second then went on "well, the life of probably the best agent we have, is at stake. Or perhaps—" She didn't finish her sentence, and she shook her head again as she looked away.
"I understand." It sounded softer than usual and Hetty looked up in surprise when for a brief moment she felt Shay Mosley's hand pat hers. "And about those youngsters? I think they'll trust their training, Lange. They're stronger than we may think."
"Yes… Yes, they are."
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Los Angeles || Esplanade Street
They had their car parked in the street. Not near the car they'd followed. Eric swallowed as he tried to get rid of the feeling something had awfully went wrong. He glanced at Nell and knew she wasn't off any better.
"What do we do?"
She straightened her shoulders and sniffed a few times before she took her phone. "I'll call in. Mosley ordered us to do nothing until she gives any further instructions. So, let it be on her what we do next."
Nell actually felt the same hesitations Eric had, she knew for sure. They'd followed the GPS-signal after all, the one Hetty had described, and now it came to a stop. They were just a few seconds later, but hadn't had a clear view at who left that car.
"Mosley? What do we do now? The car came to a stop in here. We're not sure who left this car or where they've gone. There's this apartment building, next to the Ballona Canal. I mean, Ballona Creek."
If only they'd known. They drove through the city, followed the trace of the GPS while at the same time the Boatshed was right across the water, and so nearby from their point of view.
"Any chance you can find out from where you are if any of the owners of the apartments sound familiar?" Mosley asked in reply. Right now, she regretted having send the two people who could do miracles from their usual working place.
"I'll give it a try," she heard Eric say in the background. It didn't sound as confident as she'd liked, but it was all he could do and Shay Mosley understood it all too well.
"Thank you," she said. Mosley glanced at the woman sitting next to her and as she turned up the speed herself, she added "Please wait another five minutes, Jones. We'll be right there with you by then and carefully decide what to do, okay?"
She didn't wait for another reply but simply disconnected the call herself.
"You think this was a wise decision?" Hetty now asked her.
Mosley sighed, again, and answered "So far, it is my decision indeed. Tell me, what else is there to know?"
The older woman pursed her lips just a little. "Really… Paul Angelo is, or was, one of the better agents NCIS had. Until he went rogue. I expect he has a plan to receive the paperwork in here and has a plan to leave town. Perhaps by water."
She let her thoughts go. Of course there were more scenario's. "Of course he may have his doubts about the delivery." Now it was her turn to sigh deeply. She had to think sharper than this. "The man always envied agent Callen. If —" She hesitated another short second "The moment he feels or hears that our deal went south, Angelo won't hesitate. An eye for an eye. His part of the deal will be worthless too, and he let me know what this means. We need to hurry, Shay. We may be running out of time."
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Los Angeles || Esplanade Street || five minutes later
Shay Mosley halted and parked the car right behind the one in which Nell and Eric were still sitting, obviously concentrating on a what they saw on the screen which Eric held.
She announced herself by a tap on the window of the driver's seat. "What have we got?"
Nell looked up, surprised to see Mosley standing next to Hetty, both serious faces. She shrugged. "All apartments are owned property, except for two in the middle. Those are rentals, both occupied though."
"And how would you know, my dear?" Hetty asked her youngest pupil.
"As easy as one-two-three…" Eric responded in return. "I tried, at the central entrance. Pressed the numbers. One was an older man. A couple, I suppose, since the name plate said 'Hamilton family'. The other one was a family. Something from the east, Tran. There were kids in the background singing with a man, with a television programme."
"I thought I told you to wait until there's a back-up team available."
Mosley's words were rather harsh, and Eric knew she was right and he was reddening when he replied "You did… we did, I did… I mean, it's not that I went in, shooting or anything, right? I did what you wanted us to do, find out more about the owners of these apartments."
Nell just nodded with the words Eric spoke. "Nothing stands out when it comes to those owners nor the apartments, Ma'am." She now licked her lips. "The back-up team… are they on their way?"
"Oh noes, Miss Jones. For the time being, it is just the two of us," Hetty replied, more worried than ever.
Unlike she was used to, the communication between Mosley and her team was ever so detached. Without the warmth and understanding she was afraid there might come one day members of this A team would simply rise in revolt and leave, and she feared what that would mean. Some things had to change, and if she could still have a say in that, she certainly would. But then, if something seriously bad had happened to Callen, she feared it was the end of this team anyhow. The sorrow hit her all of a sudden and she was lost for words too, something she wasn't used to either.
"LAPD will be here, ETA 5 min from now. Now I suggest the two of you get out and start investigate that car, starting with the trunk."
Eric's eyes widened. "Really? But what if…"
"You heard me. All part of the field work, Beale."
"Is it?" Hetty said. "I must say, this can wait, assistant director. I suggest we leave this to the next team to arrive. How about a quick visual around, then decide what to do next. Besides, Ranisha still has eyes on the GPS, hasn't she?"
Nell confirmed. "It still is moving but slowly. Nearby."
Hetty observed the surroundings. The Del Rey Lagoon, the pier further in the water, with the bike path, the yachts sailing in and out the Marina. The few cars that were parked near theirs.
Another car approaching them, and the sudden flash from where the sunlight caught metal and mirrored.
"Sniper!" She pointed. Useless. Several shots were fired. Not towards them, but they hit the dark colored Mercedes minivan that came driving their way.
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Los Angeles || Esplanade Street || matters of minutes later
It wasn't that often that he was in a moving car and be on the receiving end of catching bullets. Not able to be firing back, not being in charge, hell, not even being able to dive away from the glass splintering completely to these front seats. Whether he was lucky not be shot between the eyes, like Mauro, Callen didn't know.
Then again, there was no way to intervene. Tires exploded, just like Mauro's brain had exploded, but somehow Mauro's foot remained solidly put on the pedal.
In a millisecond he noted the familiar faces he passed. The van was uncontrollable by now. Callen noticed the yellow 'end of road' sign as the car headed to the sloppy construction fence, hit and crashed it. Unstoppable, the canal was ahead and the car plunged into the cold water.
Airbags deployed in front of his face, then deflated in the same second so it seemed.
Fact was that he knew all too well what may happen next. If he was able to move, Callen knew he needed to wait to get into action until this car would be submerged and filled with water, so there was no more resistance to open doors or windows.
Fact was that he was not able to move.
Fact was that Mauro wasn't either, and the one who shot Mauro probably never had the intention that anyone would get out of this car.
Fact was that water entered fast, so much faster than it should, because the windshield was blown away by the shot and the crash immediately after
Fact was that he had no choice at all but to let it all happen.
He exhaled the smallest amounts of air, and was all too aware that he needed all the air there was, but there wasn't any. His body screamed for more, his lungs started burning and his brain told him he wouldn't get what he needed.
He wondered if he had the guts to let it go, to just stop the struggle and give up. He wasn't panicking, not yet.
But being able to only breath out through his nose made it difficult. Time went by — seconds probably — but it was a strange experience that there were so many thoughts in those seconds.
It was useless to think, useless to fight too. Then his body automatically took over the brain and somehow he gasped for air, but only water entered, which he could not exhale. His lungs hurt and his head ached and his whole being struggled. He blinked his eyes slowly and despite the fact that he was still solidly tied to the car chair, he felt himself drift away without a possibility to fight it any longer.
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"Jones. With me."
Nell simply nodded and followed the assistant director straight into the building Hetty had indicated.
Eric and Hetty gazed at the two leaving. More cars coming their way; the cavalry had arrived and for another few seconds, they stood and observed. Then Hetty started ordering around. "Two of us are up already." To one of the men who remained with them, she said "Ask for ambulances too, ASAP." Then finally she asked two more to go and check the car which they all followed. She didn't want to admit that it was a task she wasn't going to able to do herself. Just... well, just in case.
Feeling the one who was unable to act, Eric slowly followed the track of the car, then made his decision. He dropped his shoes and shrugged out of the blouse he wore, then let himself sink into the cold ocean water which streamed in this Ballona Creek.
Thanks again for reading!
Kni®benrots