A/N: First, I terribly apologize for how long this chapter took. I had some writers' block at the beginning and was juggling with the ways this chapter would turn out. The good news is this chapter turned out extra long to make up for the wait. I have also written a detailed outline for the whole plot and I must say I'm excited to write what I came up with.
This chapter starts to set up the main plot and the rest will be easier now that the beginning is out of the way. Most importantly, for all the Callen fans out there I warn you now and encourage you to read until the end! Trust me.
Sam kicked the door open and the three of them stormed the house together, determined to find their missing leader. Surprised, they didn't find anyone as they searched every room. Finally, they came to the back of the house and with one closed door left unchecked, the agents shared a look and took their positions. Sam kicked in the door.
The door was literally broken down as the agents burst into the basement. Searching the area, Kensi noticed no immediate threats and proceeded down the steps in front of her, gun raised with Deeks and Sam in tow.
She hit the floor and quickly covered the perimeter of the dusty basement, ensuring the room was clear of any lurking enemies. Deeks followed her example by clearing the room in the opposite direction, walking alongside crowded shelves and forgotten boxes of long lost possessions. Once Sam set foot on the basement's dirty concrete floor, he had caught sight of the reddish-brown pool of blood in the middle of the floor.
He stopped his movement and lowered his gun, barely registering his teammates signaling that the house was clear. He slowly walked over to the large bloodstain, cursing its sickening size. He knew it had to be his partner's, and he also knew that much blood loss was never a good sign. Holstering his weapon, an overwhelming amount of fear and remorse came over him. His mind began to run through the possibilities of what it could mean and he feared the worst.
Kensi and Deeks noticed the slight change in the agent's demeanor and slowly approached Sam's still form as they eyed the puddle in front of them with trepidation. The three of them stood surrounding it, trying to find something, anything that could rule out the possible truth, that could lead them in the right direction, because the possible conclusion it led them in the direction toward was so very wrong. The silence became deafening as none of them wanted to voice their thoughts, afraid they'd be right. Frustration grew as they grasped the fact that their leader was still nowhere to be found.
After a few moments, Deeks glanced up to his partner's face, noticing the grief and tension etched in its crevices. He was worried about her, knowing how much her team members meant to her and what another loss in her life could do. He drew his attention to the senior agent who hadn't said a word since breaching the basement, and Deeks could see in his expression the worry and guilt taking its toll on the man. He knew how he felt, he was feeling much of the same, but he also knew that standing in front of a pool of blood and going through all the 'what-ifs' in their minds wouldn't help anyone, so he started taking a good look around the filthy basement.
He walked along the walls, taking in the sight of some dusty boxes and a table with old, broken tools. It looked as if no one had been down here in a while (besides the painful fact that there was an empty floor with fresh blood stains). Judging by the décor of the remainder of the house, it had probably been abandoned years ago. Deeks noticed no other important details other than an obvious trail of dried blood leading from the puddle to the wall.
He sighed and cocked his head upwards, wishing they could catch a break. His eyes wandered until they spotted a camera in the corner of the room. They widened and his eyebrows raised in response to his discovery. It peaked his curiosity, and with newfound determination he began to approach his stagnant teammates.
"Guys," Deeks started. When his efforts were met with silence, he got closer and nudged them. "Hey, you two with me?"
Fortunately, his words got through to them on the second try and a few nods and glances provided him with an answer. If the situation weren't so serious, Deeks would've thrown in a joke or comment, but he knew when to be completely focused and now was certainly the time.
"Looks like there's nothing else down here, but maybe Eric can get something off that camera." Deeks pointed to the corner. The others turned to follow his gaze.
Kensi cleared her throat and spoke up. "There's also one out front, I saw it when we came in. I'll call Eric, see if he can access them." She pulled out her phone and turned away, tucking one hand in her pocket as she dialed Ops.
"There's a chair with blood on it upstairs in the bedroom. They might have interrogated him there," Sam guesses, his frustrated sigh expressing his dislike of the thought. "Nothing else looks like it's been touched in years." Sam added quietly.
"Ok, got it Eric." Kensi hung up her phone and tucked it in the back pocket of her jeans. "He can access the cameras, and Hetty wants us back in Ops. She's sending in another team to clean up. Eric will have the feed for us to watch when we get back."
Sam sighed and looked around the dismal basement, realizing his failure once again to be there for his partner. "Let's go." His frustration and defeat in his voice conveyed how the others felt as they reluctantly climbed the stairs and left the basement, the one place that'd been their hope. Now that hope was shrinking more and more with each dead end and they could only pray that they'd find any success before that hope vanished.
By the time they arrived at the mission, the growing sense of dread in Sam's gut had become all too noticeable for his liking. They all entered through the huge wooden doors, the sound of it closing behind them echoing throughout the building as they climbed the stairs up to Ops. The sliding doors glided open automatically as the agents came near, stepping through as their unease grew with every stride. They took their places in the secluded room, Kensi and Deeks leaning against the table while Sam stood front and center, ready to face whatever was on those cameras. Hazarding a look at their two techs, Deeks could only see remorse in their eyes, and considering they've had plenty of time to review the footage while they drove back, his apprehension increased even more.
"Play it." Sam ordered, briefly choosing determination over reluctance.
Hetty watched from the shadows of the operations center as the screen came to life, displaying the basement they'd entered not too long ago. At first, nothing happened, then the sound of a slamming door and heavy footsteps caught their attention. A few seconds later a few huge men wearing dark masks dragged an unconscious Callen down the few remaining steps.
"They were there last night." Sam declared, barely recognizing his voice. The others remained silent, glued to the screen watching the only lead they have play out in front of them.
The men ungracefully dropped him onto the concrete in the center of the room, tied his arms and legs together, and left the basement without saying a word, stomping their way up the stairs as they left the agent alone.
Eric fast-forwarded the footage from there while his teammates studied the agents still bleeding form and the slowly increasing puddle emerging from beneath him over the hours. Eric played the footage again as Callen stirred, and the team stood breathless as they watched their leader struggling to wake up and take in his surroundings. The sight made Sam's guilt momentarily subside as anger took over, anger for whoever was causing his partner's suffering.
Callen eventually scooted himself over to the wall, resting his head against it. They could clearly see his wound, which thankfully wasn't bleeding as badly as before. As he struggled to get his breathing under control, a layer of sweat glistened on his forehead reflecting the overhead florescent lights, which signaled an oncoming infection. They watched him sit there, grudgingly waiting for his abductors to return. Another fast-forward brought them several hours later when Callen finally moved, lifting his head as three men also in masks quickly advanced down the stairs.
The men grabbed Callen and drove a needle into his neck, ceasing his hopeless attempt to free himself. They hauled him upstairs and only an hour later did they return with him, once again leaving the agent trapped. They knew more lay ahead of them to watch so they didn't stray their focus; increasing their attention to detail instead.
Eric skipped forward at a slower pace this time, stopping nearly twenty minutes later. Again, Callen was hauled up the stairs, but further study of the video showed he was never returned to the basement.
Without word, Eric switched camera feeds to one from the front of the house. The footage showed when Callen and the men arrived late at night, but nothing else changed on the screen until Eric played the feed from a few hours ago. A dark sedan missing plates pulled up next to the van, revealing a lone man dressed in dark clothes entering the house. His face was completely hidden from the camera's view. Not long after arriving, he came back outside, all five men from last night following him.
A sharp intake of breath was heard throughout the otherwise dead silent Ops center as a bruised Callen came on screen dragged by a couple of the huge men. A pin drop could echo like a gunshot in the silence overwhelming the agents watching their helpless friend. The mystery man opened his trunk as those behind him stood nearby. They knew there were two reasons for the opened trunk; either they were changing locations or Callen was being sent to a more permanent place. As Callen was brought into the trunk and the unknown man pulled out a gun, the anxiety and worry that had consumed the agents all day transformed into fear, absolute fear.
The image was ingrained in their brains as they witnessed the double pull of the trigger, the flash from the muzzle reflecting against the dark sedan as two bullets flew toward their friend, impacting the center of his chest. The loud gunshots reverberated throughout the Ops center, to be heard again in their haunting dreams.
Shock. That was the only word to describe what they all felt, what Sam felt. It was right in front of them, the sight of their fearless leader lying dead in a trunk, but their minds simply couldn't accept it.
This wasn't what was supposed to happen. This wasn't how it ended. This was there promising lead. They were supposed to find him alive. He was supposed to just hang on and trust that they'd save him, then they'd once again be subjected to his stubbornness, his cheeky attitude, his lone wolf tendencies. They'd soon hear him arguing with Sam about the most inconsequential things or avoiding topics relating to health or meeting someone. They'd take part in his brilliant plans and see him face danger with ease only to be unsettled by Hetty's threats because of her ruined wardrobe. They'd witness him one day finally get the answers he's looking for.
However, the truth was in front of them. That day wasn't coming. Those conversations would never happen.
The team looked on in hatred as the men climbed into the van and followed the man who killed their teammate, all heading in the opposite direction they came. Once the vehicles drove out of sight, the screen went black as Eric hesitantly powered off the screen. Him and Nell had seen the footage barely an hour ago, but had simply blocked it out as they focused on catching them; tracing the vehicles, enhancing the audio, trying to identify anyone, and of course checking its authenticity. However, they didn't find any discrepancies, and now that they were standing here with the rest of the team, the reality had set in for them both.
They'd held it in until now, and their remorse and feeling of failure now were overpowering. After a simple explanation of its authenticity, the fact that the house was indeed abandoned, and the lack of any further leads or a way to catch them despite kaleidoscope looking for them, he took his seat next to Nell and turned away from the rest of the team, unwilling to see their faces or for them to see his.
Nell remained in her chair, recognizing the cruel injustice the world could bring. She too felt like she had failed Callen, that all of her knowledge was useless when it came to saving him. She stared blankly at the screen, wishing it was all a sick dream; but she was smarter than that, she knew this cruelty was reality.
Hetty had quietly watched everything transpire from the back of the Operation center. She wasn't with her techs the first time, but she knew the moment she saw their faces that her son was gone. She had tirelessly tried to help him, to steer him in the right direction. She worked to teach him the art of trusting others, leadership, and that family didn't just mean blood. With no children of her own, she took him under her wing as if he was hers, but despite her efforts, she couldn't change the family trend. She had stayed until her agents had returned and faced the reality with them, but now that they all knew, she couldn't stay in the room any longer. She couldn't save Clara, and now she couldn't save her son whom she vowed to protect.
Kensi's world came crashing down on her as she watched her big brother die in a trunk. Her past ran through her minds in seconds, playing images of her father, her fiancé, and her partner. They all meant so much to her, and they all suddenly disappeared from her life, taking too much of her trust with them. She had built her walls stronger and thicker each time to compensate, never showing her emotions to someone in fear that history would repeat. However, her team were the few people she allowed herself to care about. Losing another person, another man in her life who was her brother within a day was too much of a test for her trust to gamble with.
Deeks ran his fingers over the glass, coming to terms with the fact that the person he looked up to was gone. Once he saw the flashes of the gun, he looked downwards at the glowing table in front of him, refusing to watch any more. He knew what it meant, two shots in the heart didn't leave much doubt. Deeks had long ago recognized the parallels he had with their leader. Callen had come from similar experiences that he did, and had risen above it all to become one of the best undercover operatives that Deeks had aspired to be since he joined his team. He was proof that the past didn't matter when it came to the difference that he could make. Now, the one who seemed invincible had fallen.
Sam froze in terror as he watched his partner die in front of him. After so many years of escapes, close-calls, and saves, this time he couldn't hold up his end of the deal; he wasn't there to drag him back. They were partners and were supposed to keep the other alive no matter what. He had developed a strong trust with this man who couldn't and wouldn't rely on anyone when they first met seven years ago. Eventually, his partner had let him in and trusted him, and today Sam had failed him. Sam grew angry, angry at what life had dealt him and his partner. However, he didn't look away and watched every second play out until the screen went black. He owed him that much.
The team members in Ops were quiet for several moments; processing their reality as their minds ran with their thoughts and emotions. Once Eric updated them on the lack of content and sat in his desk, Sam tore his eyes away from the screen and abruptly left, no doubt headed for the gym. The automatic doors hadn't even shut before Hetty emerged from the back of the room. She slowly walked out of Ops without as much as a glance toward her team, off to who knows where in a very Hetty-like way.
Several more moments passed with only small sniffles coming from Nell disturbing the silence. She and Eric both faced their computers away, from the junior agents. Soon, Kensi pushed herself off the table she'd been leaning on and straightened her posture, quickly leaving the room.
Deeks watched after her, debating whether to follow. Instead of going after her, he held his position, deciding that she needed some time alone. He'd come later and talk with her, but she needed time to process and calm down. He looked back down at his hands, running through everything that happened in a mere day as his fingers slowly traced circles on the table.
His vision slowly became clearer as he blinked the dizziness away and focused his eyes. His efforts didn't make much of a difference as he realized he was in almost complete darkness. The hole in his shoulder still radiated pain throughout the rest of his sore body, but it had thankfully subsided to a dull throb. Sweat covered his skin; whether it was from the hot, stuffy, air or a result of a growing infection, he didn't know. His breathing had gotten better, however he was in a much smaller space than he last recalled.
The last thing he remembered he was still in that musty, old basement. Blurry images of being dragged and in another room upstairs lingered in his mind, but he couldn't remember much as he was probably drugged. As he tried to sort out his memory, a small bump shook the space he was in, and he realized he was in the trunk of a car.
He had no idea what was happening or where he was and he tested his arms and legs to see if they were still bound. They were, but his chest started to flare up as the movement aggravated his wound. A small trickle of liquid from his chest fell until it sat in the crevice of his neck, and Callen realized that it was too far to the left to be from his shoulder. He wondered if he had acquired another injury, but in the very faint light coming through the cracks of the trunk, he could make out dark stains in the center of his chest. Knowing he couldn't be faring this well with two more gunshots, he strained his eyes as he studied the blotches of dark liquid, his face twisting in confusion. After several moments, he came to the conclusion that he'd been shot with fake bullets and blood.
He couldn't understand why his captors would fake a shooting, and he still didn't know why he was here or who they even were. The only thing he knew was he was in a much larger mess than he originally thought.
A/N: You didn't think I'd do that to you, did you? ;) Please review! They make me happy and motivated!