A/N: Very sorry for the delay, my computer has been acting up and once I fixed it I had barely any time to write. Don't worry about me never updating again, though, I can't ever leave a story unfinished. Thank you for sticking with me through the story, I appreciate it immensely.
You'll be glad to hear we finally get to find out WHY in this chapter, and what lies ahead for our team leader. Please leave a review! They mean so much to me!
The door creaked open, illuminating Callen's filthy prison. Callen turned his eyes toward the door to catch one of the guards entering, the one he'd nicknamed Thor after he'd quickly gotten to know Iverson's men. He was a tall, well-built man with straggly blonde hair almost to his shoulders. His appearance, however, was always graced with a permanent scowl whenever Callen saw him. Thor stepped through the door and motioned for Callen to stand. Callen obliged, stretching out his sore back, and Thor quickly walked over, grabbing his shoulder and leading him out of the room.
This is it, Callen thought, Iverson is showing his hand. Time to find a way out of this.
He was led down the bright hallway through a doorway on his left, where they went through a small room into an adjourning bathroom.
Thor released him and pointed to the counter; a set of clothes, a towel, a bar of soap, and a razor laying on it.
"Shower, change, shave." Thor said in a monotone that would put Granger's to shame. He turned around and shut the door.
Callen watched the door close, sighing in frustration. He leaned against the bathroom counter and hung his head, slightly wiggling his chin back and forth as his mind raced. After a moment, he straightened up and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He barely recognized his reflection.
He was covered in filth; that he already knew. His clothes were laden with dirt and sweat stains, and he guessed he didn't smell that great either. He looked paler, and despite his efforts to stay in shape he'd still lost some weight. His hair was overgrown and a beard covered his face, but what surprised him were his eyes. At that moment, the usual bright color was more of a deep ocean blue. Dark circles accompanied them, and overall he looked slightly worse for the wear.
Pushing away from the mirror, Callen undressed and stepped into the shower. He washed his body with the bar of soap he'd been given, using the scalding water to scrub hard at the layers of filth on his skin and doing his best to rinse the grease out of his hair. He stood in the shower for a few minutes, letting the heat release the tension in his back and neck before finally shutting off the water.
In no time, he had already dried off and shaved his beard that had grown over the past several months, although he chose to return to his classic look and left a little stubble. He ran his hands through his hair, doing his best to tame it. His hair was still a little longer than he'd like, but it would have to do. Callen changed into the new set of clothes provided for him, including a pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt. Once he'd slipped on his shoes, he tried opening the door, only to find it locked from the outside. He knocked on the door and a few moments later it opened and Thor lead Callen out of the bathroom. When they got to the hallway, two more guards joined them, the ones Callen had nicknamed Goliath and Mr. Muscle earlier.
Callen was lead into the elevator and the four of them waited until it reached the top floor. He got out and was lead down another hallway into a large, white corridor; their footsteps echoing with each stride. The anticipation Callen felt was growing as he moved towards the end of the corridor. Large windows lined the walls, casting a bright glow over the entire walkway leading to a single door. The lighting stung Callen's eyes after the constant dim he'd grown accustomed to, but he snuck a sideways glance to the window on his left. The building he was in was certainly tall as he caught a clear sight line of the coast in the distance. He didn't recognize any of the scenery he saw, so he probably wasn't still in Los Angeles, but he had a feeling they were still on the west coast.
Finally, the four of them reached the door, and Thor turned the handle and led Callen into the room. It looked like a room where business meetings were held, with a long, white table occupying the center. The door closed behind Callen as he caught sight of Iverson sitting at the end of the table with a smug look on his face. As Callen was instructed to take the seat opposite of him, Callen noticed the other two guards escorting him had left.
Callen settled into the chair and rested his elbows on the table, meeting his cold eyes with Iverson's. They both sat there for several minutes, neither of them wanting to flinch first. Callen didn't as much as move an inch. Finally, Iverson let out a small laugh, shaking his head.
"You're good Callen, even better than when we worked together last." He stood up and walked towards one of the windows, gazing at the view of the ocean. Callen snuck a glance through the window closest to him and he suddenly realized where he had been all this time: San Francisco. "It's a good thing, too, since we'll be working together. You'll need that confidence and natural ability you have in undercover work."
When Iverson was met with silence, he turned to face Callen. "What? You're not curious about why you're here?" He walked back towards the table and took his seat, Callen subtly watching his every move.
"Of course you are," Iverson smiled. "Terribly sorry about the wait, by the way," he added.
Sure you are, Callen thought. However, he still remained silent.
"You know how it goes," Iverson continued, "Once I was sure I could find you, I had to start organizing this deal, and it can take so long to work out all the details. Of course, I also had to make sure your team thought you were dead long enough so they wouldn't be looking for you now. Luckily for me, they gave up easily." He smiled at Callen.
Callen still didn't respond. He knew the comment was meant to discourage him, but he didn't let it. Even if they truly thought he was gone, he knew they wouldn't have given up easily in finding his killers.
Iverson sighed dramatically. "Well, I guess I should explain to you why you're here." He shuffled some papers on the table until separating one from the stack.
"Remember Alexsandr Novikov?" Iverson prompted.
Callen raised his eyebrows in response.
"I have some… information he is interested in purchasing. It needs to be delivered in person next week, however we both know how devious he can be. You are my insurance policy should anything go wrong. You will deliver the information in Moscow to him as your old alias, Nikolai Krymov."
This information elicited a response. "The CIA terminated that alias after you burned me, remember?" The disdain in Callen's voice was clear.
"Come on, Callen. We both know people can come back from the grave. On paper, you are dead. Would you like to make that technicality accurate?"
"How are you going to convince Novikov that Krymov has been alive all this time? Krymov 'died' before the deal with the Aliyev family. I don't think Novikov would appreciate the fact that my alias died right before we made the deal together.
"Simple."
He picked up the paper he set aside earlier and slid it across the table. Callen dragged it closer to him and straightened it out. After a few minutes of reading the information, he gave Iverson an incredulous look.
"See? I've already had Krymov fully backstopped. You were meeting Aliyev about the deal when the CIA raided the warehouse. You escaped, but figured you would continue to be pursued by the CIA, so you faked your death in that same car bomb the CIA used to terminate Krymov. For the last 15 years, you've been making business deals all over the world, never using your own name in case you were discovered. Four months ago, you contacted Novikov through email, telling him the information you thought he'd be interested in. You've been messaging back and forth about the deal and finalized it on Thursday. You will be flying out Monday to Moscow and will meet him at his same residence Tuesday night."
Callen studied the paper with all the information on it in front of him, taking it all in as if Eric and Nell were reciting his new case to him. The brief thought saddened him, but he quickly focused back on processing what he had to do. If he didn't handle this right, they could all be in danger.
"Got it? Oh, it's Saturday, by the way. August 2nd. You were probably wondering the date." Iverson smiled again. Callen squinted his eyes. He wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face, but he knew that wouldn't help him at all.
Callen understood, but he still needed to get more information out of Iverson, whether it be his connections or how much he knew about his team.
"What information am I selling?"
"Well, I got it from a friend on base, but what it is really isn't important, and you don't really need to know either. All that matters is it's worth half a million."
Time and time again, Callen could not understand how someone could betray their country so easily, be it a former CIA agent or military personnel.
"You want me to commit treason?" He asked incredulously.
"Well you don't have much of a choice, do you?"
"What if I refuse?" Callen challenged.
"All it takes is a simple phone call and one of our old friends can track your entire team down by the end of the day."
Good, Callen thought. That means they don't have constant surveillance on his team. They were probably safe as long as Callen didn't slip up. Now, he also knew the person who was Iverson's technical support was someone who had worked at the agency with them.
"And make no mistake, Callen," Iverson began, his voice lowering ever so slightly. "You do anything to try to escape or mess this deal up, and I have no problem with killing every member of your team and informing your enemies I have you. I wonder which one would want you the most. I'm sure the price would more than compensate for this deal if it goes south." He hinted.
Callen kept his cold eyes locked on Iverson, his jaw clenching with anger in response. He had no doubt Iverson would follow through with his threat. He was the kind of person who had no loyalty and absolutely no remorse, but the last comment about his enemies seemed too thought out. He quickly realized that was Iverson's plan all along once this deal was done. Callen knew that if he couldn't think of a plan fast, in a matter of days he would have no chance of escape.
Iverson seemed to know that Callen realized that was his plan anyway, but this didn't faze him as he knew Callen would keep his team safe regardless.
"Well, now that that's settled, you will be taken to your room now. We will talk further about the details on the plane."
Callen sent Iverson one last glare as he stood up before Thor could reach him and haul him up. Iverson remained in his seat, perfectly content with his plan. Thor grabbed Callen by the shoulders and led him out of the room, the sound of the door shutting echoing in the corridor. Goliath and Mr. Muscles quickly joined them in their journey to the elevator. Once again on the basement floor, he was left alone in the same room as before, door locked from the outside.
Callen let out a long frustrating breath. He wished the demons of his past would stop coming back to haunt him. This time, it looked like he was losing the fight. He only had a few days to come up with a way to escape and protect his team, but how could he from the other side of the world? Pretty soon he'd be in Moscow, which meant it'd be almost impossible for his team to even find him, and that was if they knew to look for him there since he wasn't dead.
Callen collapsed on the mattress, and for the next two days he alternated his time between looking for opportunities to escape or contact his team and going over everything he knew about his alias, the deal, and the ever ruthless Alexsandr Novikov.
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