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.


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"SAM!" Callen burst vigorously through the interrogation room door so unexpectedly that even Sam jumped visibly in his seat.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, but Callen was already tugging him out into the corridor, leaving their suspect stunned to silence behind the table. Barely taking the time to push the door closed behind them for privacy, Callen turned to Sam with his blue eyes flickering with a degree of panic rarely seen. Sam forgot his irritation at having his interrogation so abruptly interrupted and paid rapid attention.

"There are wires, Sam… outside. Wires, and a flashing light. We need to get out NOW!"

To Callen's relief Sam didn't argue, even though he could read the shocked disbelief on his face. Acting quickly nonetheless, Sam moved to the door and the two men re-took the places they'd been in earlier, either side of the door frame to the outside world. Sam pushed the door open to look out, and immediately flinched when a bullet bounced off the ground in front of him.

"Shit!" He turned to Callen. "He's trapping us inside!" Further explanation was unnecessary: Callen knew. Janvier was engineering his next move in the game, moving his pieces, playing once again for Sam's life.

Be damned if he was going to let him win this one, Callen thought grimly, as he reached out to touch Sam's arm. "The other door, quick!"

They both began to turn back towards the rear entrance where Callen had come in moments before, but even as they did so Sam's trained ears heard the low whine of the circuit connecting. He yelled to Callen.

"No time!"

Callen grabbed hold of Sam and shouldered the interrogation room door open again. "In here, hurry!" He flipped up the big table. Intuitively understanding his partner's plans, Sam shoved Laurent out of the way with one hand while he reached down to the trap door with the other. He thanked the fates that the tide was in, the swirling green of the water below at its deepest under them.

"Stay under the water until you've swum clear of the blast!" Sam instructed urgently. "Can you…?" He glanced down at Callen's plastered arm, but with the crack of the explosion splintering through the footings of the boatshed they had no time to debate the rationality of the plan before going through with it. Without any further thought they both leapt into the water below as the remains of the wooden structure went up in flames all around them.


On the ground outside, confusion lingered like the smoke thick in the air above the burning boatshed. The ambulance siren faded into the distance as quickly as it had arrived, the paramedics wasting no time in whisking Connor to the nearest hospital, leaving Kensi, Deeks and the QRT responders to survey the aftermath of the explosion in various degrees of shock and disbelief.

Eyes darting wildly around her, Kensi yelled Callen and Sam's name over and over and Deeks had to physically restrain her from trying to run headlong towards the flames and what was left of the boatshed. Both of them were unable to see any sign that either Callen or Sam had got out before the blast. Sam's Challenger, parked close to the door for Callen's benefit, had been bounced onto its roof by the force of the explosion and subsequently caught fire, and the sight of its burning and crumpled shell made Kensi feel sick.

"I can't believe this is happening!" she whimpered as she was finally stopped short in her attempts to get any closer by the intense heat from the flames still devouring the building. "Callen, Sam… the boatshed…. What are we going to do?" She was as close to disintegration as Deeks had ever seen her, and silently, for once lost for words, he wrapped his arms around her, trying to gently steer her away from the fire and the smoke. He had no answers to give, and as the boatshed literally fell to pieces in front of them, any reassurance would seem futile at this moment.

Paramedics from the second ambulance came running towards them as they returned to the cars, but Kensi shrugged off their attentions with frustration.

"I'm okay!" she snapped when the pair of paramedics attempted to envelope her into their waiting red vehicle, mistaking Connor's blood on her hands and her signs of distress for that of injury.

"We're good." Deeks quietly dismissed the medics, and as he and Kensi went to open their car doors they were halted in their tracks by the sound of a cell phone ringing nearby. "Damn, that's mine," Deeks said in confusion, patting his pockets and eventually finding his phone fallen to the ground under his car. It must have slipped out when he had dived for cover behind the vehicle when Connor was shot. It seemed a lifetime ago. Grimacing, Deeks answered the call, only half listening to Eric's agitated voice on the line.

"Oh, thank God!" Eric spluttered frantically. "All your comms are out! The boatshed went offline so we managed to get a shot from the marina cameras, and we've seen the explosion! What's going on?" he demanded worriedly.

"I don't know, brother," Deeks answered honestly. "Look, get in contact with St Anne's will you? Connor's on his way there…"

"St Anne's… do you mean the hospital?" Eric's voice rose in concern.

"Yes the hospital!" Deeks said with a trace of irritation, but he caught himself. "Look, Connor's been shot. Outside the boatshed. Sniper rifle. Get in touch and make sure they have any medical records they need…." He trailed off. He could only hope that it would be medical personnel Eric needed to speak to, and not a coroner.

"And the boatshed?" Eric asked, getting a firmer grip now he'd actually been able to speak to someone on his team. "What on earth happened to…"

"A bomb." Deeks said shortly, cutting Eric off before he could say any more. "Callen and Sam were in there. We have no idea if they made it out. Kensi and I are both okay. We'll get back to you ASAP, okay?"


Swimming strongly under the water, Sam could see the glittering amber and orange reflected colours of the explosion above him and he kicked hard to get himself clear. He looked around for Callen too, hoping to be able to keep pace with him, but the murky water reduced visibility to just a few feet in any direction. Soon Sam sensed a change above him as the flames and smoke were replaced by clear skies, and he swam to the surface, raising his head cautiously from the water to assess his position. The boatshed was a glowing mass of fire, the wooden structure burning easily with flames reaching high into the sky topped by a thick tower of smoke. The smoke, carried by a sea breeze, swept across the bay.

With half an eye on the shore, Sam looked for his partner with a rising sense of urgency. He knew Callen was ordinarily a capable swimmer, but even on a good day, he could not hold his breath under water for as long as Sam himself could. Sam could have stayed under longer, but he knew Callen must be nearing his limits now.

Just as he was about to duck back under and start swimming back towards the boatshed in what was likely to be a futile search for one body in an impossible amount of sea, Callen's head broke the surface just a dozen yards from where Sam was anxiously treading water. Spluttering, gasping for air, Callen sank down again, but in a couple of powerful strokes Sam was at his side and offering an arm to help keep him afloat. Callen met Sam's eyes with what appeared to be a grin, an unexpected emotion which Sam could only attribute to euphoria at having cheated death once again.

He was unable to hide his relief. "Dammit, G! You good?"

Callen nodded breathlessly. It was all relative, after all, and half drowned, even for the second time in a week, was still better than blown up.

"The smoke is offering some cover," Sam continued, keeping a firm hand under Callen's armpit on his right side to support him as he painfully did his best to tread water. "But nonetheless I think we should skim under water to that boat over there." Callen nodded again, but a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face at the distance 'over there' looked to be, and Sam noticed it with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Can you manage it?" he asked with concern.

"Of course," Callen muttered. The cast on his arm was literally weighing him down, and he could feel the broken bones underneath protesting. He was getting more than a little fed up with battling the sea to escape Janvier.

"I'll pace you. Come on G, you've got this," Sam said encouragingly, and without wasting any more time the two of them ducked once again below the surface and began to swim in the direction of the boat, breaking up through the surface every so often for air. Sam kept close, making sure he didn't lose sight of Callen under the water and ready to switch up their strategy to a lifesaving stroke if needed.


The boat moored out on the outskirts of the marina was a mid-sized cabin cruiser. Its dinghy was missing, leaving Sam hopeful that it was devoid of occupants, who with any luck would be delayed on their return from shore by the explosion. Coming up on the far side of the boat from the beach, Callen and Sam once again looked back towards the devastation at the location of the boatshed. The smoke was starting to clear, and Sam was glad they had taken the precaution of staying hidden as much as they could.

"Here," he said, tugging Callen round to the ladder at the back, noticing the relief on Callen's face as his struggling partner clung on to the metal bars with his good hand. He seemed content to rest there a while and his lack of activity worried Sam. "Can you climb up?"

"I'm not completely useless," Callen grumbled.

"Didn't say you were," Sam gave back. "Stubborn, fool-hardy, injured… Need I go on?"

"Alright, alright." Callen hauled himself laboriously up onto the deck and attempted to make light of his struggles by turning back cheekily to offer Sam a hand off the ladder. He smirked when his outstretched arm was batted away, but his expression quickly turned serious as the two of them stood wetly together on the deck. Sam surveyed the ex-boatshed while Callen leant forward, supporting himself with his left hand on his thigh, to catch his breath. Every muscle fibre was trembling. He felt shaky and weak, but there was no way he was going to let Sam see that, so he kept his head down, face out of sight, while he worked on getting his mask back into place. As he panted, Sam clasped a hand round the back of his neck in an unspoken gesture of gratitude for their joint survival. Callen knew he intended to offer comfort but instead it left him feeling awkward. After so many months, years even, of feeling shunned and neglected, like he was an irritation, a burden, by the man who had once been the closest he ever had to family, Callen was finding it hard to trust this return of the old, caring Sam. He stood up, shrugging off Sam's attempt to pull him into a manly hug.

"That could have been bad," Sam said soberly. He knew they had both been lucky to escape death or even further injury this time.

"Yeah," Callen agreed with a sigh. "Now what?"

"You tell me." Sam paused. "I feel like we're permanently one step behind here."

"That's because we are," Callen said darkly. He hated to admit that Janvier had somehow outdone them, again. Now, they had not only lost the boatshed and all its technology, but the only potential link they had to Janvier, their suspect Marco Laurent, was gone too.

"What do you think his play is?" Sam asked.

"Me… I guess." Callen paused. "I'd hazard a guess one of his goons on the boat survived and I think we can assume he knows I made it off… For all we know, he's been surveying the boatshed these past couple of days, to see if I'm still alive…"

"And when he saw that you were, he set a trap for you."

Nodding tiredly, Callen ran his hand through his wet hair. The adrenaline and euphoria had passed and whilst he knew they'd both been lucky not to have been injured – or worse – in the explosion, the nature of their escape left him once again hurting. His injured arm hung down limply, the water adding to the weight of the plaster, and his muscles continued to tremble with strain and fatigue. He realised Sam was still talking, and dragged his attention back.

"…I know he's always liked a good explosion… But going on your theory, if he wants you alive, why blow up the boatshed?"

"I don't think he knew I'd gone back in there to find you," Callen answered. It was the only explanation that made any sense. "There was so much going on, the QR team, the ambulances for Connor…" His expression grew heavy with remorse as he was reminded of Connor's fate. "He shot Connor to draw me out…"

"It wasn't your fault, G," Sam said quietly.

"It wasn't not my fault either," his partner countered flatly. "Whatever that man does, it's because of me, directly or indirectly." Granger had been the first to verbalise it, all those years ago when they had known Janvier as DeGramont, but it was nothing Callen hadn't thought privately many a time. He'd carry that guilt forever. He thought back to his conversation with Vance, exactly a week ago, when Vance had sworn him to secrecy, had banned him from using anyone within NCIS for the Janvier-Incognito operation, and Callen had readily agreed in order to protect his team. Oh, how that had all backfired. His team were in the thick of it, and anyone connected to him was vulnerable. He could still hear Janvier's voice in his head: 'I still live for one thing: to kill what you love.'

Callen looked up at Sam worriedly, voicing his fears with trepidation. "He's always wanted to kill the people I am close to. You, most of all." He paused, but the words had to be said. "The explosion was meant for you. Just like that warehouse bomb, and the boat…"

"I can take care of myself, G."

The two stood in silence for a while, each troubled by their thoughts. "You reckon you can hotwire this thing?" Sam asked eventually.

"This boat?" Callen looked around vaguely. "Yeah, sure. Why?"

"Well, I'm thinking you're not up for another swim back to shore, and I'm also thinking it'd be best if we go a roundabout way back home… Different marina."

Eyebrows raised, Callen looked at Sam. "You want to steal a boat?"

"Borrow," Sam grinned. "I told you, I learned from the best."

Callen rolled his eyes. Sam's solution made sense, but it was a plan far more likely to be concocted by himself than his straight-down-the-line Seal partner. Shrugging, he started moving towards the engine bay, beckoning Sam to follow. Hot-wiring a boat wasn't much different than a car, and he'd 'borrowed' plenty of those in his time. He fumbled around in the boat's innards long enough for Sam to start making humorous jibes about his incompetence and offering to take over, but eventually they were rewarded by the welcome throb of the engine turning over. Sam went out on deck to unhitch the boat from its mooring buoy.

"Pick a marina, then?" he asked Callen.

"Long Beach," Callen answered without pause, and it was Sam's turn to raise his eyebrows. "It's a big marina," Callen explained. "More anonymity. We'll be able to slip in unnoticed and leave the boat there without any awkward questions. You're right: I don't fancy another swim." He looked down at his soaked plaster cast. "Not loving being out at sea, or on a boat again, if I'm honest." Sam looked at him sympathetically. "Though," Callen added with black humour to deflect the unwanted emotion, "At least this one I'm not tied up down in the hold. Definite plus. Even if I do have to put up with your company."

Knowing what Callen was doing and why he was doing it, Sam obediently rolled his eyes in response. "Yeah, yeah. I cramp that lone wolf style of yours, I know…" Even so, he worried again about his partner's injuries, and pointed at Callen's arm. "We'll need to sort that."

"I guess so," Callen acknowledged. His own wounds seemed trivial after what had happened to Connor. He glanced involuntarily back at the boatshed.

Knowing what was on his mind, Sam tried to reassure him. "He'll be okay."

"There was a lot of blood, Sam," Callen said hollowly. "I… I couldn't stop it. What if he bled out too much before…?"

"Just stop it," Sam cut him off. "You did what you could." He turned to the cabin. He was worried about Connor too, but there was nothing either of them could do, and he suspected Callen wasn't in the mood to be comforted. The best they could do right now was to try to get back to shore without being detected by the wrong people, and find a way of securely getting back in touch with Ops to let the team know they had survived.


A/N: So reviews really do help push me to update more frequently! And I got so excited to post this ahead of schedule because the next review will be the 200th..! The first time any of my stories has got to such a milestone - thank you so much!

I also didn't want to leave you with a big cliff-hanger for too long... Callen and Sam are still vulnerable out there on their own, but at least you know they survived until I can update again :)