CHAPTER TWO – PRESENT DAY (SUNDAY EVENING)
Offshore, in the dark windowless cargo hold of a large vessel that had seen better days, Callen was woken from an uneasy slumber by the sound of a light being sharply clicked on. The utilitarian electric bulb overhead had no shade, and was insufficient for the size of the space, but nonetheless he blinked several times, temporarily blinded by the comparative brightness. Into his vision, the shadowy outline of a man loomed, and spoke, and inevitable though it was, Callen's heart sank deeper than the ocean itself when he recognised the voice of his nightmares.
"Good evening, Agent G Callen."
"I'll take your word that it's evening, and it certainly isn't good," Callen responded darkly.
"Come now. You must have known this was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."
"You'll be hunted down," Callen squinted at his captor but was still unable to see his features. "Serve maximum time in solitary again. Your deal was conditional on helping us. Not… this." He looked down at his tethered state. He'd come to some hours ago, seasick and mildly concussed, to find his hands securely roped together so tightly he'd had fears for his circulation, and multiple ropes securing him round his legs and his chest to a solid metal pole that braced the floor and ceiling of the hold. Seldom had he been more thoroughly bound – or more uncomfortable. He'd managed to doze awkwardly, held standing up as he was, but he suspected the vicious blow to his head that had knocked him out had more to do with that than anything.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the light, Callen could make out more shapes than just the shadowy man stood before him. He was surrounded by what looked like abandoned empty crates and boxes, which, owing to the pitch blackness before, he was starting to see for the first time, and he wondered exactly where he was, and why…. although some 'whys' could be easily guessed at.
In the dim light, Marcel Janvier met Callen's eyes for the first time as he spoke again.
"Forgive me if I do not tremble with fear… You are the only person to have outwitted me. You and your… team. But now… now I have the power. This time the game is mine."
"That's all it's ever been to you, isn't it? A game?" Fury rose in Callen's voice as he remembered the impossible damage done at the hands of this man. Renko, Hunter, Deeks… and Sam. He knew from the start they were playing with fire with this mission. And the gamble this time was not only his own life, but the lives of the millions of Americans they were trying to protect when the black operation had been put in motion.
"Of course. Nothing has changed…. Revenge is all I have. It's all I have lived for, these past seven years. To know that one day, I would see you again, my old friend…"
"I'm no friend of yours," Callen spat, unable to help himself.
"To know that one day," Janvier continued, "Our game would pick up where we left off. And this time, Agent – G – Callen," he spoke each part of Callen's name with vicious intensity, "This time, the board is mine. It's mine. But I'm a fair player, Agent Callen. You'll get your moves."
"Is that so?" Callen asked, in as bored a tone as he could muster. "And what if I don't want to play?"
"There are some things in life we don't get a choice about," Janvier replied. "You'll play. And when we're done, I'll kill you." He said it with an air of inevitability. "There is nothing else I live for."
"Then why not just get it over with?" Callen said with irritation, holding Janvier's gaze even as he strained against the ropes that secured him.
"Oh Agent Callen, you disappoint me! Many years I spent in prison – where YOU put me – with nothing to do but play chess. You surely do not expect me to waste all that time, all that experience? The end may be mapped out… but we are not there yet. You know how I love to play the game: and I have yet to meet an opponent as worthy as your good self…" Janvier paused. "So. Here we are again. The board is laid out. There is much at stake. I've had my first move, bringing you here. Soon, it will be your turn. Your move, Agent Callen."
*FLASHBACK* THREE DAYS EARLIER (THURSDAY)
"These are desperate times, Callen," Director Vance said earnestly. "Desperate times that require desperate action! We simply have to do something, and quickly."
"Desperate is right," Callen responded with a flash in his eyes. "Desperate – and dangerous. We cannot underestimate this man!"
"I agree. But you successfully kept him under control and working for us before…."
"Barely!" Callen choked.
"We all," Vance looked around the table where his colleagues variously nodded, though Callen could see doubt in their eyes that he knew was mirrored in his own, nevertheless Vance continued, "We all agree that this is our only option. Even after his time in prison, Janvier has contacts that reach far wider and have far more credibility than anything our various agencies can bring to the table, especially in the time frame we're talking about."
Callen was silent for some time. The threat the country was under was no joke. DARPA had been working on a stealth swarm technology – Incognito – that would revolutionise warfare. They had further engineered their Gremlin micro-drones to create even smaller drone prototypes that not only worked in swarms, but had added stealth technology that made them almost impossible to trace, and they'd increased their range and Artificial Intelligence as part of the overhaul. It appeared, however, that knowledge of the top-secret developments had been leaked. The DOD had credible evidence that the Incognito designs and code had been stolen, and were to be auctioned. The consequences of either falling into enemy hands were unimaginable, and there were many nations that would pay handsomely to get hold of America's latest weapon technology.
But Callen shuddered to think of the previous times they had crossed paths with Janvier. Hunter and Renko had been just pawns, casually killed to suit a game no one else wanted to play. Sam and Deeks had suffered terribly, had damn nearly lost their lives too. That they hadn't, had been as much down to luck as the skill and dedication of his team. There was a reason Janvier had been served a triple life sentence in a maximum-security facility. They couldn't rely on luck again, and allowing Janvier to walk was an impossible decision, madness. Callen couldn't conceivably go along with the plan – and yet he knew he must. They simply had to find out who was running the auction, and where, so they could intercept the buy. It would take weeks, maybe even months, to cement someone undercover and they'd only be guessing at who to infiltrate. Janvier gave them a certain and credible way in.
"Is this an official op?" He eventually asked, though he could guess at the answer. Vance shook his head.
"I think you already know that it is not," he confirmed, ignoring Callen's smirk. "This mission is unsanctioned, and knowledge of it does not extend beyond the four of us in this room. We must protect our agencies, and the President, at all costs. But there is no doubt, Callen, that this needs to be done. This technology could cost countless lives, and I don't need to tell you what a huge threat it would be to our national security if it ends up in the wrong hands. We simply must get those designs back or be certain beyond doubt that they have been completely destroyed."
"Back up?" Callen questioned with a sigh.
"I trust you to involve as few people as possible in this, and none from our agency or indeed any active agents if it can possibly be helped… You will be working predominantly with one other person," Vance said, steeling himself for what was to come. Callen noticed the subtle tension in his boss.
"Who?" he asked suspiciously.
"Joelle Taylor," Vance replied unemotionally.
"Joelle!" Callen exclaimed. "Why Joelle, for goodness sake?"
"You've worked with her before."
"I've worked with a lot of people before."
Vance sighed. "But never with so much at stake," he responded. "You and I both know there are few people, especially within the CIA, that you trust."
Callen had to admit that was true.
"But why are the CIA running this? Why not the FBI? Hell, why can't we run this with a team I put together myself? Not," he added hurriedly, "from our agency… I still have contacts, you know. You want a black op, I can give you that."
Vance spread his hands resignedly. Working with the CIA was rarely smooth, and Callen's history with the agency made a working relationship more volatile than most.
"We've had to put together something very covert, with very little time. The busload of prisoners that is set to be transferred includes not only Marcel Janvier, but a high value target the CIA incarcerated last year. Agent Taylor was instrumental in bringing this man in; it is down to her, and a very small team she worked with, that he was caught. His capture had been kept a secret…" Callen rolled his eyes. Of course it had. How many times had the CIA tried to keep secret the capture of a valuable prisoner, so that no other agency could gain access to them?
Vance continued: "The identity of this high value target becoming known will ensure the focus is on him and the CIA, so we can keep the real reason for the bus high-jacking off the radar… With luck, Janvier's disappearance will go unnoticed until your mission is accomplished. From the other side, the CIA prisoner is well-connected and Agent Taylor and the CIA have laid the foundations for your mission to look like an escape attempt financed by him, which will give credibility to Janvier's timely escape amongst his associates."
"I think you are underestimating the thoroughness of my team," Callen responded, but other than his gut telling him this was a bad idea, he couldn't come up with a viable reason to abolish the plan when so much was at stake.
Author's Note(s)...
Firstly. This is the story I always hoped I would be the reader of, not the writer! Even better, the viewer - but the show writers have yet to bring back the one villain I am *desperate* to see again - Janvier "The Chameleon". I *love* how this character has been the only one to really mess with Callen's head - a truly formidable adversary. And so this is a huge undertaking to do justice to - and also one that very few fanfiction writers appear to have taken on (I think I have only found/read two 'Janvier returns...' stories!) I am doing my best to rise to the challenge...
Secondly. The plot was supposed to centre around a biochemical/biological warfare type threat - that was how it was first written. Then the covid situation happened... writing a story about the threat of a mass pandemic didn't sit right, so I've re-hashed it.
Thirdly. It turns out stealth drone technology does actually exist (yikes!) And if you want to see the type of kick-ass drone technology I thought I had uniquely created in action - there's a film called Angel Has Fallen that my husband watched recently that features them... I guess it's true that there really are no new storylines ever lol!
Finally - thank you to those who have welcomed me back and shown interest in the beginning of my story, especially those of you who have left reviews. I have replied to those I can. MMc - thank you so much for your kind words - I totally agree with you re Season 10 and 11 - all the characters seemed 'off' a lot of the time, and in particular Callen's partnership/friendship with Sam. That won't be the case here :) I love all the characters, and will do my best to do justice to them all (yes, even Deeks will get his shining moments! Got to be honest he's not a character I 'click' with, so any (kind!) constructive feedback as we go will be appreciated - but I am not a Densi-fluff fan ;) )
