Pins, Bullets and Journals

Chapter 18


Disclaimer: anyone who reads knows all too well that none of the characters belong to me. I may feel sad about that, but it is what it is… Thanks once again, CBS for lending them for the purpose of an easy read.


Author's note: Thank you for reading. For those who still had the nerve to wait for another update: I'm so very sorry for the enormous delay. Plot bunnies left, real life took most of my energy and time. All I can say is I'm so very grateful for all your patience, reviews and comments. I sincerely hope you will like this final chapter and the way the story comes to an end.
A shout-out to anyone tuning in later: a review is very welcome, as ever!

Kni®benrots


o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital

"Mr. Lee... there's a very delicate matter I want to discuss with you," Hetty said.

The older physician nodded "Why don't you join me? I've got a feeling it may be better to talk about it in private." He gestured to the small room near the nurses station and Hetty gratefully followed.

After Lee sat down behind his desk Hetty took the other chair and did the same.

"I suppose it's got to do with your agent and his safety?" Lee sent a curious look at the aged woman opposite of his desk.

"Indeed it is," Hetty confirmed. "Now, you see, there is him and an endless list of enemies. As for one of them, well, we expect he will pay a visit any time soon. This man is responsible for my agent being in here and until now he remained beyond our reach. In fact, we want to bring him in and it may or may not happen in here. You will understand that whenever he shows up, which we may want him to do, it will be about the only way to arrest him. However, as you will understand, an operation like this matter is far from usual in a hospital."

"It is. Of course you'll understand I'm not happy with a plan like this, on the contrary, I think I should discuss it with our management and have security alerted."

Hetty nodded and pursed her lips just slightly. "Although in ordinary situations I would agree, in this case I have my serious doubts. We wouldn't want alert this person, you see. It would alarm him and we'd lose him, which would make him even more dangerous. Perhaps you should have your personnel evacuated, rather sooner than later."

Lee shook his head. "Impossible. There are patients in here who need care. As does your agent, Miss Lange. Have you discussed this matter with him?"

"But of course, and we are preparing for action already. Although most of the usual team are temporarily unavailable, the few who are around are ready for any situation which may occur."

"Nonetheless I am against this plan."

"Until now it is neither a plan, nor a situation. Yet. What I want you to be aware of is that it may happen and the smallest of team I have available in here are prepared. What I want to know is how we — which includes you and your team — can prepare."
She could debate with the surgeon like this without them agreeing with each other, but time kept creeping by and all she wanted to was to stay with her people and have Lee be prepared to keep his people out of sight and out of harm's way.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

She glanced at the man in the hospital bed. Bruises, scrapes, cuts... the oxygen mask. Callen's eyes were closed and she shook her head. She couldn't imagine what he went through in only a little more than a week, even though she knew, understood the facts from what she saw or heard during these days. She feared that one day it would be too late to save him. Not now. Not on her watch, she pleaded in silence.

"I'm okay, Nell."

Her eyes widened and she stammered "You are? Yes... of course you are."
He always said he was, and he was a fighter, a survivor. Hadn't he been the one who taught her to trust her training? And yes, wasn't he her mentor and the one she trusted with her life? He would always have her back in the field or Eric's, Sam's, Deeks' and Kensi's. Now this was what happened when Sam was not around.
"I'm sorry, Callen."

"For what?"

Before she had the chance to reply her phone rang.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

In the elevator on his way down Eric pondered on the plan they discussed. If Angelo was as predictable as they thought all would go right, albeit risky as well. Callen might think he'd be able to defend himself, but Eric seriously doubted it.

As he went farther down to the ground floor, Eric saw the plan worked – but too well. Angelo was ascending and closer than expected. 'Hetty — Nell' he needed to warn them. First, the one who Paul Angelo wanted revenge on.
"Hetty? He's here, already. You'd better go and hide, he should already be there."

He didn't await her reply, just disconnected, jumped out of the lift and - as there was no other one to go up again he took the stairs. "Nell! He's here. Get ready!"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

He read her face and knew trouble was around. The expression on his face grew grim. "How long?"

She didn't have to explain, got on her feet while grabbing her gun. "A minute or so."

"Damn," he swore. "No gun."
With some effort he breathed in as deep as he could and looked around for some kind of weapon. Too late, he knew it because by the sound of footsteps coming nearer. Seconds later, he saw Paul Angelo stepping in through the door with his gun ready to shoot.

"Federal agent! Drop your gun!" Nell's words came out less self-assured than she had wanted to.

There was some kind of rare chuckle from Paul Angelo and he shook his head. "You'd better carefully lay aside yours, little girl."

"Take the shot, Nell" Callen breathed and for a while it looked as if Nell would just do so.

Then she slowly kneeled and put down her gun. With Angelo having the upper hand she had no choice but to do what he wanted and she did what he wanted, figuring Paul Angelo was faster than she'd be. Too late she understood that by now she would be just as defenseless as Callen.

"Look at you. It's pathetic," Angelo sneered. "If this office geek is the one to protect you, you're making it all so easy Callen. Believe me, this is not what I planned, but without your precious Hetty around this is the best chance I have for the time being to hurt that old, wicked and witchy boss of yours."

It was as if Callen had minutes to figure out different scenarios. Yet it was a matter of milliseconds. Angelo would go for Nell first, as fast as possible, assuming Callen was the easiest target. Callen estimated the distance and he stroke within the same second as the shot Angelo fired at Nell.
The same second, but soon enough. It took all of the minimal bit of energy he had - but it kept Nell save. It didn't matter that he tumbled out of his bed and that immediately the whole room was spinning around — Angelo was unable to shoot Nell, or him. Not that he was able to fight the rogue agent, not at all. But the gun Angelo had, was dropped because of his action.
All he had to do was to try and stay where he was so Angelo couldn't reach for the gun. Despite the fact that his ears started ringing and he had to blink his eyes so many times to try and stay focused, he kept his body covering Paul Angelo's legs. But he was losing that battle.

Nell kept her eyes on the smallest of movements near the nurses desk. Her partner tiptoeing closer, holding a gun as steady as possible. Then his words "Give it up, Angelo. You won't win."

"I will. In the end," the response came. A sickening kick hit Callen in his stomach and without any noise at all the senior agent was out. The obvious action of the other man was to reach for the gun he'd dropped. He didn't make it and another gunshot rang in this too small room. A grunt, and Paul Angelo remained where he was.

"My god, Beale," Nell sighed relieved. Then she more or less huffed at the now wounded man in front of her "Office geeks, right? You missed some years, Angelo."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Los Angeles || NCIS office of special projects || two hours later

Sam Hanna walked in a nearly deserted office. He stood for a few seconds before he crossed the large hall to the corner and placed his postman's bag on his desk. It was sooner than he'd announced before he took off for holidays with Kamran and Aiden, and although he couldn't lay a finger on it, he had a gut feeling something was off. Looking up, the glass office which Mosley occupied nowadays was dark and empty. The same went for Hetty's corner office, and the desk of his partner.
He took his phone, but no text messages were sent.

"Sir? Agent Hanna?" A female voice sounded and he looked up.

He nodded and said "Ranisha, right?" He recognized the woman, although Sam had no clue about her last name. She was one of his co-workers and the spokeswoman of the office.

A rather shy smile appeared on the woman's face and she nodded. "I suppose you would want to know that your boss is at the boatshed. With agent Jones."

He frowned. "Any reason why?"

"Because… ehm, because of, well…" The eyes of the younger woman widened. "I thought you'd know? The attack at the summer camp group and the hospital shooting earlier today?"

It never mattered he missed both parts of the news. Seeing the building this empty meant it had to do with his partner, he already knew. He turned on the screen of the connection with the interrogation room. One glance on what was going on was enough. "Callen?" he simply asked.

"He's at Cedars-Sinai."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital || next day

The soft murmur slowly turned into more audible, but still, distant voices. Sam's and Eric's. It felt safe and although he hadn't opened his eyes yet Callen gratefully sank back into a deep sleep.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The stirring of his friend's body and some wincing noises made Sam look up at Hetty, who joined him only some hours before. The older woman locked her eyes on the man ever since she sat next to the bedside. Without checking she said "The fever set in. Expectedly though, Mr. Hanna. His body endured so much."
She fell silent for another minute and he let her. Both Eric and a nurse had informed him of all the injuries his friend was suffering from and by now the anger and worry already ebbed away. After all, it was never Callen's own doing, nor his stubbornness which got him in here.
There was disappointment he still felt simply because Mosley had decided it wasn't necessary to call and inform him. Not that he could have helped Callen or Nell and Eric. Perhaps he could have prevented Callen to go in all alone at the very first call that came in, but he already knew that Paul Angelo had kept an eye on the caseload the members of the team had, with or without the help of the rogue LAPD officers. Simply by deducting it had been Angelo's best guess that none of the others were around and to lure Callen into this situation.

Angelo. He'd be gone for the next couple of years, safely locked up in Massachusetts' Souza Baranowski. What bothered Sam more was that once again people from Callen's past turned up. This time to join a dangerous former agent like Paul Angelo was. Next to that, Callen would need time to heal – again. The man hardly had had time to recover from the Mexican period.

It was as if Hetty read his mind. Her voice sounded sad now "If he'd cared less for me this wouldn't have happened." She paused a beat.
"Oh bugger. He went in any way to try and save those kids. Angelo was all too aware that Grisha choses to try and keep everybody safe and sound and tends to forget how badly we want to keep him safe as well. But without people like him, like you too, Mr. Hanna, this country would be a mess. It is a great task of Miss Singh to keep you all tucked away as far as possible for the public. Citizens of this city and the country shouldn't be continuously aware of the threats against them."
She sent him a comforting and grateful smile. "Sam… He'll be fine. Indeed, there will be more time needed for Mr. Callen to recover. There's his brand new clavicle which his body needs to accept. After all, this is an artificial surface. He'll need physical therapy and rest and time off before he will finally be ready for field duty. And although during the past 20 hours our boy's lungs received pure oxygen he is back to breathing in and out himself once again."

She pressed the button to call a nurse while still speaking. "For this moment I think there's a new dose of painkillers and antibiotics needed. And he's waking up, remember?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Hours later Sam chuckled once again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Really, G? A fork?"

"You should've seen that Sam. He simply threw himself from this bed and plunged a fork into Angelo's biceps. Then he grabbed the guy so Nell and I could make the arrest," Eric said.

It was good to see how his partner smiled a little at Eric's words and there even was some banter in his reply "Hetty's doing. This room 'n its service. No plastic cutlery." Even though Sam hated the short sentences and the wheezing way Callen had to draw in his breaths, it was good to see how his friend looked much better already.

Eric continued "Mosley left by the way. Not that I care. Not that we care, I mean, speaking for Nell as well I'm pretty sure. Texted Densi about it. Deeks and Kensi, sorry, correction of that, guys. Texted them as I said. They'll be back next week y'know."

Callen closed his eyes for a second.

"You tired G?" Sam asked.

As ever, Callen simply denied the direct question. "Where's she?"

"Mosley?" Eric asked. "Honolulu. Looks like she'll stay in there for a while. Hetty's back in charge, for the time being. Guess she can use a helping hand, Callen."

A moan came from the bed and Eric panicked. "You're in pain?"

"Despair, Beale. Not gonna need paperwork again. I need to be out. Fieldwork." Callen explained.

Sam shook his head. "Really… get some rest buddy. Too soon to discuss this."

Actually, he didn't need to bring the matter forward. Callen already closed his eyes and minutes later he was asleep again.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Two days later Callen had assured his friend that it was alright to go back to work and that he'd be okay, with a gun hidden under a shirt on the bedside table.

Sam stretched his strong but tired body after the second full day at work. Knowing that there would no longer be guards around to keep tabs on the people coming and going worked on his nerves. And he remembered his friend's bad temper and restive mood when it came to recovering and feeling he'd be locked up. Well, Sam thought, not much to look forward to.

He inhaled deeply, preparing himself to meet a grumpy and willful partner. Passing the nurses desk he peeked at Callen's temporary room. Much to his surprise the door was closed, as were the blinds.
He halted for a second, carefully concentrating on anything extraordinary. A soft and indistinct voice. Not Callen's.
'What the…' he muttered as he drew his gun.

Slowly, very slowly, he moved the handle and opened the door. First thing he noticed was Callen. Completely still, eyes closed, pale and with lines in his face which Sam hardly ever saw before.
The rush of fabric. A second person in the room.

"Federal Agent. Don't move," he ordered as he entered the room. Meanwhile he licked his now dry lips. If it was anyone with bad intentions, Sam would be too late to save Callen's life.

"It's okay Sam."

There was a certain softness in Callen's voice. Slowly he moved towards Callen, his gun still raised until he turned to the other person in the room. He tilted his head and managed to face the guest. Female. Halfway her thirties, he estimated. Dark blond hair in an unruly tail, a wrinkled burgundy red shirt, dark jeans and brown boots. The expression on her face resembled that of Callen.
Emotional.

"It's okay," Callen repeated and he swallowed some times.

Sam patiently waited, not planning to prod.

"This is Joanne Traver," Callen said. He closed his eyes again for the briefest moment, then continued. "She… Macy, her daughter, she's gonna be fine."

Before Callen could add anything the woman started to cry. She leaned her back along the wall and sank to a sitting position. Her silent sobs filled the room for a quiet few minutes, until Sam helped her up again. "Please, have a seat." He motioned to the chair next to the bed. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

She sat down on the edge of Callen's bed itself, sniffed and wiped her face before she answered. "Yes please."

Sam knew he interrupted something between Callen and this Joanne, something which wasn't part of his life. Something the two of them shared. Something the two of them needed to talk about without him.

Something so precious. Inwardly he shook his head. He read Nell's report. The young girl who was shot. This woman's daughter whose life Callen saved.

Before Sam turned to leave the room, he noted how Callen placed his hand on the woman's arm, until she looked up. Again, Callen closed his eyes for a quick second. There was a warm smile on his face, the particular wiggle of his jaw, and he moved his hand to Joanne's chin.
"She's going to be fine. You're going to be fine, Joanne. We all are."

Silently, Sam closed the door. He'd find something to drink, somewhere. There was no hurry.

They were going to be okay.


Thanks for reading, all of you.