"He's been here," Callen said, incredulously, in a voice little above a whisper. "In here…" Transfixed, neither of them could take their eyes off the table. The white paper stood out prominently on the otherwise bare wood. The words on it were hand-written, bold and clear:

"Agent G Callen. The game is not over."


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

In disbelief, stunned beyond speech, Callen raised his eyes from the paper to meet Sam's. The air in the boatshed vibrated with tension and the silence was deafening. Callen slammed his left hand down furiously on the table, causing the paper with its ominous message to flutter and innocently re-settle in silent contrast to the roaring in Callen's ears. He could feel the anger rise within him. He wanted to yell: wanted to spill some of the rage, some of the fear and the disbelief, that he felt, but the chaos of emotions inside him rendered him mute. How, how, could Janvier have been there undetected, right there in the boatshed? How could they have missed him?

In a state of shock he was unaccustomed to feeling, Callen balled his fist, only vaguely aware of the pain in his right hand as he tried to fist that one too, and couldn't because of the plaster. Raising his arm to once again lash out, he felt Sam's hand softly restrain him, and he took a deep and shuddering breath, trying to centre himself. His legs were numb, his muscles shaking with unadulterated adrenaline, and he couldn't feel his feet on the floor. He'd been through many things in his life, witnessed terrible atrocities, and suffered plenty himself, but none had left quite such a sickening twist in his gut. Far from playing chess, Janvier was toying with them like a cat with a mouse – and he was winning. Dread filled every crevice of Callen's being.

Next to him, making a conscious effort to relax, Sam rolled his tense shoulders while he kept a hand on Callen's arm. Allowing Sam's restraint, at least for the moment, but with angry adrenaline still pulsing through him, Callen's only movements were to clench and unclench his jaw repeatedly as he worked to gather his thoughts. Sam could only begin to imagine what was going through Callen's mind right now. He opened his mouth to speak, not sure what he could possibly say but knowing he at least had to try saying something. Before he could get a word out, they were startled by the distinctive echo of a gunshot outside.

"Shit!" Sam coughed instead. Callen's eyes were wild, and Sam knew his own expression mirrored the living nightmare he saw in Callen's face. They both turned rapidly back towards the entrance. Moving fractionally slower on his injured leg, Callen was a pace behind Sam as he peered cautiously out of the wooden door. Weapons drawn, they each crouched to the sides to take what cover they could from the door frame. They stared at the scene in front of them in utter disbelief.

Kensi and Deeks were taking cover behind their parked cars, hunkered down, each of them holding their weapons up towards the distant apartments across the creek from the marina. On the ground close to Kensi's car, clutching at his neck, was Connor. Blood seeped darkly through his fingers.

Callen felt his own blood drain from his head. They hadn't missed Janvier at the auction: he'd never been there. Instead, he'd been here, watching and waiting. Waiting for a chance to hurt Callen again, by hurting his team, his friends. The paper note was no joke. Janvier wasn't just playing mind games. Shuddering, Callen could hear Janvier's voice in his head as clear as if he had spoken next to him: "It's the story of a man who spent twenty-one years in prison – only to escape and exact his revenge." Callen remembered how smug he had been in response to those words, shutting the cell door with finality as he walked away without looking back.

It had been seven years, not twenty-one, but seven years with nothing to do but plot revenge against the cause of one's incarceration was evidently more than enough to come up with the goods.

"He's been shot!" Kensi yelled, unnecessarily. "Connor's been shot!"

"Hang in there, buddy!" Sam shouted across the tarmac. "I'm coming to you…"

"No, don't!" Callen said forcefully, reaching his arm out to block Sam.

Sam turned impatiently to Callen. "We've got to help him…!"

"I'll go." Still with his arm blocking Sam, Callen continued quickly before he had a chance to argue. "Think about it, Sam! That's a sniper shot. Remember Renko? Janvier took that shot, he killed Renko. It's him out there, I know it…" Callen was literally shaking with anger.

"And you're going to put yourself in his line of fire?" Sam demanded.

"He wants me alive," Callen said simply, making to stand up. He didn't know how to explain to Sam how he knew Janvier wouldn't kill him like this: he just knew. "He wants me alive… for now… but he wants you, and anyone else I care about, dead. You take a step outside that door, you'll get a bullet in you too – and he won't miss. I'll go to Connor. You – start talking to whoever we've got in there." Callen tipped his head back towards the interrogation room door. "Find out what he knows, where Janvier is!" Still vibrating with anger, and with fear for his friends and colleagues, Callen rose to his feet and looked again out of the door. "Just stay in here… stay here til it's safe!"

"I'll call this in to Ops," Sam said grimly. "Get the medics here." It was Sam's way of agreeing with Callen's decision, however much he disliked it. Callen nodded, already exiting the building. "Stupid fool…" Sam muttered, watching him. "And be careful!" he yelled to his partner's disappearing back.


Callen moved quickly once he was out of the door, not glancing back at Sam watching him. Scanning the surrounding area as he ran, he tried in vain to glimpse where Janvier might be. Whether indeed he was still there. Backing up his theory, no further shots came. Callen knew he was wide open as a target as he moved, uneven in his gait but fast, across the car park to where Connor had gone down. His hurried conversation with Sam, the rapid decision making, it had all taken mere seconds after they'd heard the shot fired, but there was already a lot of blood.

"Callen?" Kensi called in a low voice.

"Stay down!" he commanded urgently. "Don't move!" He paused. "Are you guys both okay?" He had reached Connor now, knelt beside him. Callen was close enough to the car that he was no longer a target, but Connor wasn't as protected as he'd have liked, and damn there was a lot of blood. He dimly felt the warmth of it spreading through the knees of his jeans.

"We're good," Deeks responded. With most of his attention on Connor, Callen saw in his peripheral vision that Kensi and Deeks were still taking cover, still training their weapons up in the direction of the apartments. Kensi was closest to him.

"Here!" Callen felt something soft hit him. Kensi had tossed him her shirt. He grasped it, clumsily folded it into a thick pad and pushed it firmly against Connor's neck.

"Thanks. Did you see anything?" Callen called back. Projecting confidence, his face a mask of outward reassurance that belied his innermost feelings and only those who knew him well would see through, he spoke down to Connor. "How're you doing?" The young man's eyes were still fluttering open every so often, meeting Callen's encouraging smile, but the hands clutched urgently to his neck had fallen weakly by his sides. Seconds felt like minutes as Callen tried desperately to stem the flow of blood.

"Nothing!" Deeks said with frustration.

"Connor just dropped," Kensi told him with an audible tremor in her voice. "Like Renko... It came from nowhere, Callen. Out of nowhere. I was barely out of the car… There was nothing we could do…" Kensi was grappling to retain control of her emotions. Connor had been shot in the jaw, just like, just like... Flashbacks of her hands on Renko, blood spilling through her fingers while she tried in vain to stop it, merged with the sight of Connor lying on the ground while Callen now tried to do the same.

Callen knew she and Deeks had come to the same conclusion he had: that it was Janvier who had fired, and it was Janvier who might or might not still be up there with a sniper rifle trained on them all. It was a long and difficult shot: but they knew he'd made that sort of shot before.

"I know," he reassured her grimly. "Ops has been apprised… Help's on the way." He addressed his last words to Connor, but loud enough that Kensi and Deeks could hear.

"We're sitting ducks here," Deeks complained impatiently.

"Not for much longer." In the distance, they could all hear the sirens. Callen pushed harder against Connor's neck, willing the bleeding to slow down, to stop… Kensi's shirt was soaked red with blood. If Connor died… because of Janvier. Because of him… Callen clenched his jaw, determined to shut his mind to the possibility of any more death.

It was a welcome disruption to his thoughts when Kensi spoke again. "Where's Sam?"

"In the boat shed. Talking to our suspect." Looking up from Connor back towards the building for a moment, Callen felt an all too familiar lurch in his stomach. Something wasn't right… A surge of adrenaline pulsed through him once again. Through the loud roaring it created in his ears he heard Deeks mutter, "Let's hope he knows something", but Callen's eyes were urgently scanning the boatshed, trying to pinpoint what he had seen that had caused his body to respond with the familiar fight or flight reaction that, this time, he knew he had to trust.


The arrival of the cavalry, in the form of two ambulances and the Quick Response Team in large black vans, all screaming into the boat shed car park in a frantic mass of sirens and hot rubber burning on tarmac, distracted Callen for a moment. Deeks started to move to wave them over.

"Stay down…!" Callen snapped.

"Don't worry, I have no intention of being used for target practice," Deeks assured him. "How's he doing?"

"Bleeding's slowed…

Already apprised of the situation, the QRT vans pulled up in a close semi-circle around the parked cars, forming a bullet proof blockade. With relief that the situation was starting to become more under control, Kensi moved from behind her car to come and take over holding her blood-stained shirt against Connor's wound, pushing her fingers over Callen's as he refused to lighten the pressure even for a moment. Deeks called out to the paramedics.

"Here!" he shouted. "Over here. Gunshot victim; he's taken a sniper round to the neck…"

"He's unconscious but breathing!" Kensi added. "Connor Hill, he's…" She broke off as she noticed Callen's face. He'd slipped his fingers out from under her hand and was staring at the boatshed with an expression that she couldn't read, but it worried her. "What's up?" she asked him quietly. Callen briefly turned back to her, and what Kensi saw in his eyes did nothing to reassure her. His gaze returned to the boatshed: and in that instant he saw what was wrong and his heart plummeted as he sprang up.

"BOMB!" he yelled. "Clear the area!"

He was surrounded by well trained professionals, and they all responded instantaneously to his frantic yell without question.

"Snatch and grab!" Callen half heard the paramedics shout as they unceremoniously rolled Connor's unconscious form onto the stretcher nearby. In his peripheral vision Callen saw them grabbing both ends and moving urgently to their waiting vehicle. He was vaguely aware too of Kensi and Deeks ushering everyone back, but his thoughts and eyes were on one thing only.

Sam.

Sam in the boatshed, where Callen had told him to stay. He hurried desperately through the people all heading the other way, back towards the boatshed and the bomb.

In the chaos, looking frantically over their shoulders as they helped to shepherd all those nearby away from the area, Kensi and Deeks realised that Callen had disappeared.

Before they could do anything, and even though it would have been too late, they instinctively ducked when they heard another gunshot.

"Sonofabitch…!" Deeks swore, but the shot was only the precursor and he and Kensi looked on in horror as they witnessed an unmistakable sequence: a crack, a reverberating boom and the first roaring sounds of flames licking the sky.


A/N: Ongoing family dramas have torn me away from this story yet again :( And coming back to it, in what was supposed to be a quick final proof read, I discovered a chapter which really doesn't make sense, owing to the huge re-write (which starts from this chapter...!) following my hard drive crash where the plot bunnies went off on a tangent and added about an extra third to the story...! so I'm trying to get that sorted so it all fits together properly with the ending! Hopefully it will all be worth it in the end.

Sorry-not-sorry for another cliff-hanger ;)