A/N: Again, thank you so much for reading this and the reviews, I appreciate them very much.
Before Callen knew it, his two days were up. Thor opened his door and once again he was lead into a bathroom to shower and change; this time into a nice blue shirt, black suit, and black slacks. Black dress shoes were left for him as well. After quickly showering and getting dressed, Callen was escorted by two additional guards through a side door and out of the massive building. Callen stepped out into the open air, taking in the sunshine he'd been denied for so long as he walked toward a single black SUV in the parking lot.
He quickly identified Iverson standing there; hands in the front pockets of his suit and an arrogant grin on his face. Someone else stood next to him, the driver, Callen guessed. Once he'd approached the vehicle, Iverson opened the left rear door, motioning for Callen to get in. Callen kept his icy eyes on Iverson as he reluctantly climbed into the back seat. Iverson walked around to the passenger side and got in the front seat as his three guards piled in after Callen and the driver took the wheel. Callen was seated on the left in the last row with Thor next to him, and the SUV peeled out of the parking lot.
Callen stared out the window, observing the city and the people on the streets. He hadn't been to San Francisco in years, and none of the places they passed he recognized. However, thinking back on the memory sparked an idea in his mind, and for the rest of the drive Callen developed the idea into the first step in his plan.
Soon, the SUV arrived at a small, private airstrip. Iverson, Callen, and the guards piled out of the vehicle. They grabbed the luggage from the back and once the trunk was shut, the driver took off with the SUV. The guards carried the luggage while Iverson rested his hand on Callen's shoulder and casually led him inside the small airport. The guards followed them inside as Iverson walked toward the desk to check in.
"Hello," Iverson smiled, turning up his charm for the lovely brunette behind the desk. "I need to check in me and my guests for our flight to Moscow."
"No problem. May I have your name?" She happily replied.
"Peters." He responded, handing her an I.D. Callen stood a few feet from him and easily heard the conversation. Obviously, the name was an alias. He remained silent behind Iverson, looking as calm and relaxed as he could. He couldn't arouse suspicion from any of the airport workers; for fear that his teammates would suffer the consequences. He knew he had to play it out right.
"Yes, here you are. Your private plane is scheduled to depart at 9:00 this morning for Moscow. May I have your passport and all of your friends' information as well?"
In a matter of minutes they'd all been checked in and informed their plane was ready. A few workers approached to retrieve their luggage. As a woman was turning around with two duffle bags, she accidentally bumped into Callen. She quickly apologized and Callen returned the apology for being in her way. Callen watched after her as she joined her co-workers to load the luggage onto the plane.
Iverson, Callen, and the three guards stepped out on the tarmac, approaching the small plane. They climbed up the steps and into the cabin. As the others took their seats, Callen remained standing.
"I need to use the restroom." Callen said.
"Hurry up, we're taking off soon." Iverson conceded, not even glancing up from his phone.
Callen walked toward the back of the plane, shutting and locking the lavatory. He pulled from his pocket the phone he'd lifted from the airport worker he'd bumped into and made sure the sound was completely off. Quickly, he composed a text and sent it, hoping Eric would receive it in Ops. Less than a minute later he received a response, and for the first time in four months he had the feeling that he could be found. He quickly fired off a response before turning off the phone and hiding it in his suit. He'd have to get rid of it later.
He quickly left the lavatory and took his seat just as the plane prepared for take-off. Callen watched through the window as the plane left the asphalt and climbed in altitude, taking him further and further away from California. He may be on a flight with someone who betrayed him, headed to Russia on a dangerous mission against his will, but now he knew that his team would be coming for him, and if anyone could help him, it was them.
Sam sauntered into the bullpen, noticing he was the first one to arrive. He eased himself into his chair, pulled out his laptop from his bag, and started working on the reports he hadn't yet finished from Friday. He typed away at his computer, focused on his work, when a few minutes later, Eric burst out of Ops and startled the agent.
"HETTY!" Eric yelled. He ran down the stairs and made it half way until he spotted Sam staring at him. He looked from Sam to Hetty, then back to Sam with a shocked look on his face.
"What is it, Mr. Beale?" Hetty asked, surprised at his behavior.
"You guys need to see this. Now." Eric stressed, eyeing both Hetty and Sam. He turned around and ran back up the steps and to Ops.
Hetty and Sam both glanced at each other before quickly going after Eric.
They entered through the doors when immediately Eric started talking.
"Nell has already contacted the rest of the team, they should be here soon. This is not good, not good at all. Well it is good, but really it's not good at all. I should have known, I should've made sure. Oh, we wasted so much time!" Eric rambled, fingering his tablet and pacing the Ops floor. "I'm sorry, I should've looked more, widened the search parameters. I only had it at a 200 mile radius. I didn't think there would be anything further to find! The-"
"Eric!" Sam shouted, trying to stop him from rambling any longer. "Calm down. Now what did you find?"
That was enough to get Eric back on track. "A few minutes Ops received a text message. At first, I thought it was someone mistakenly sending it to our number, until I read this." Eric tapped his tablet a couple times, sending the message onto the big screen.
Sam began to read it out loud:
"'Eric, its Callen. I'm not dead, Scott Iverson faked my death. He is an ex-CIA agent turned criminal forcing me to trade classified information to Alexsandr Novikov, a powerful Russian businessman. He will kill the whole team if I don't do what he wants. His base of operations is in San Francisco. We are flying to Moscow for the deal, going down tomorrow night. Can you trace this?"
Sam sighed shaking his head. He knew he'd been right. He should've trusted his instincts from the beginning.
Eric quickly brought up two more texts and Sam continued to read them aloud, the first being one Eric sent from Ops:
"I traced your location. The team will be informed quickly and flown to Moscow, we'll find a way to stop this. I'll trace you as best as I can in Russia. Glad you're alive, stay that way."
"I need to go dark, can't use this phone anymore. Tell Sam he can count this as another time he's had to save me. Will make contact when possible, and thank you. -G."
Sam took in a breath, dumbfounded by the news they'd just received. He looked over at Hetty and noticed she was feeling the same. Seconds later, he managed to compose himself and addressed Eric.
"Where did you trace him?"
"A small private airstrip in San Francisco. The phone belongs to one of the employees there, he probably lifted it to make contact."
Nell, who had been silent while she worked with the new information, spoke up. "I managed to access their security feeds. This is from almost 20 minutes ago."
A video popped up of a smiling man leading Callen into the building. Three huge men followed behind carrying bags and suitcases. As they watched the events on the video feed play out, the four of them studied their leader. He looked a little different, maybe paler and leaner. The longer hair threw them off, but when he turned his head, they knew without a doubt it was him.
"I need to inform Vance." Hetty declared, quickly heading downstairs to handle the situation.
"Nell, when is the plane arriving there?"
"Moscow is 11 hours ahead, so when the plane arrives it'll be around noon on Tuesday there."
"What can you tell me about this Scott Iverson?"
Eric hopped on his computer and started working on more information. "Iverson was a CIA officer for many years up until fifteen years ago. Most of his files are redacted but I can tell you that he was fired from the agency and a warrant was out for his arrest, but he was never seen nor heard from again." Eric pulled up the feed and matched the man with his picture on file.
"Until now." Sam muttered. "Why was he fired?"
"Looks like he burned his partner while on a classified mission in exchange money. The agent was almost killed."
An uneasy feeling grew in Sam's stomach before he could even ask. "Can you find out who the agent was?"
Eric began searching until he found the information. He stopped typing and paused, surprised at what he found. "Callen," he stuttered.
Sam let out a frustrated breath as the doors to Ops opened.
"Mr. Hanna, I've spoken with Director Vance. He has authorized you and your team to complete this operation in Moscow by whatever means necessary," Hetty stressed. Just then, Kensi, Deeks, and Evan rushed into Ops, curious about what was going on. "This mission is a top priority. You need to secure whatever the classified information is, catch this Iverson, and save our agent. We need to do this quietly. We don't want to cause an international incident or to tip off Iverson. Eric and Nell will send you all the information you need, along with the unredacted files I just managed to secure from an old friend who owes me one. Vance has secured a flight for all of you in 30 minutes out of Torrence Airport." She turned so she could address all her agents. "Lady and Gentlemen, grab your go bags."
"Where are we going?" Kensi asked.
"Moscow. I'll fill you in on the plane ride." Sam said, already heading out of Ops. The agents briefly looked at each other, surprised, before quickly going after Sam. They caught up to him on the stairs and followed him through the bullpen to their lockers.
"Moscow? Why are we going to Moscow?" Deeks asked incredulously.
The question didn't even faze Sam as he packed extra things from his workspace into his go-bag.
"Save Callen." He declared.
They paused. "Callen?!"
"He's alive."
Kensi and Deeks shared a shocked and worried look before quickly grabbing their go-bags and preparing to leave, Evan following their example. The four of them headed to the armory to load up on extra ammo before heading out to the plane waiting for them.