So here's the next chapter.. major plot developments! R&R :)

All my thanks to my beta-reader MyOwnWorstCritic

Chapter Seven: The Address

The pit stop took them longer than expected, but finally they arrived at the primary crime scene. Both agents seemed to have forgotten their argument only half an hour ago, and were already making fun of each other like nothing ever happened.

"You know that you walk like a gangster?" Callen glanced towards his partner, a grin still plastered on his face. Sam shot him an angry look.

"I don't walk like a gangster. I walk like someone who's got everything under control." Callen gave him a confused look.

"How does somebody walk like he's got everything under control?" he asked. Sam smiled.

"Like me."

"So all gangsters have everything under control."

"I am NOT a gangster."

"You walk like one." Callen stared at him with innocent eyes. Sam glared back.

"And if you don't shut it, I'll kill you like a gangster." They stopped when they arrived at the exact spot the security camera had shown the fight had started. They stood silently for a moment before Callen felt he had to make a final comment

"You still walk like a gangster." Abruptly, Sam turned and grabbed his partner by his dark blue long sleeve. With way too much ease, Callen was pulled around by Sam until he was standing right on the spot Glen Fortell had spend his last couple of minutes.

"Since you're so convinced, you'll take the role of the victim." Callen grimaced, already knowing what was going to happen.

"Great," he replied flatly.

"So the victim, Glen Fortell, got into a fight here with the other guy..."

"Let's call him Hank." Callen kept a sincere face. Sam just looked annoyed.

"With Hank. They yell a bit, scream a bit, get a little physical, but nothing gets really heated until..." Although prepared, Callen was still surprised when Sam hit his fist against his right leg, "Until Hank stabs him with a syringe.

"Ouch," Callen said pointedly. The look on Sam's face spoke volumes, You've made your bed, now you gotta lie in it. Callen turned around.

"And Glen makes a run for it." Both men kept quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Callen finally reached for his phone and speed-dialed Eric. It hadn't finished the first ring before the tech picked up.

"Hi, Callen."

"Eric, which alley did the victim take after he was hit with the syringe?" G could hear Eric typing before he responded,

"From where you're standing, that would be the first street to your left." Sam followed his partner as he walked towards the corner their victim had disappeared around. Turning onto the street, the first thing the partners noticed was the half-dozen side alleys that it split into. Sam let out a sigh.

"No way we can trace his steps back towards the hospital. Just too many possibilities." Instead of replying, G walked down the quiet street towards the first corner on his right. Sam couldn't help but mock him.

"You planning on following his scent?" Still, Callen didn't respond and, out of curiosity, Sam moved closer. His friend was eyeing the sidewalls of the alley suspiciously and Sam followed his gaze. When he didn't see anything, he moved closer until he was right next to Callen's face.

"I spy with my little eye..." Callen returned his partners remark with a juvenile expression and pointed to where he was had been staring

"Just take a good look, Sam." Sam looked, but still didn't get what his friend was referring to. He raised his shoulders in defeat.

"I can't see it. You win. Now tell me what you do see."

"Nothing."

"You see nothing."

"Exactly."

"And how is nothing going to help us here?" A smile worked it's way onto Callen's face. He held his phone against his ear.

"Eric, you're still there?"

"Never left your side."

"Can you find out how many allies over here do have cameras and how many don't?" On the other line, Eric mentally hit his head against a wall. Why didn't I think of that! He frantically started typing and searching.

"The street you're looking into right now is the only one without a camera." In the meantime, Callen had put Eric on speakerphone. Sam finally got it.

"You want to retrace his steps by eliminating the streets with cameras…"

"Smart." Eric and Sam replied simultaneously.

"But still a long shot."

"I'll see if I can make his route visible this way. I'll mark the possible options onto the GPS on your phone, Callen. Won't be taking long."

" 'Kay, thanks Eric."

The next hour saw both men walking the streets on Eric's direction. Callen and Sam kept their eyes wide open for any kind of evidence the victim could have left behind while running towards his final destination. Their task was made easy by the remarkable number of security cameras placed throughout the labyrinth that was the hidden streets of Los Angeles. Big brother is watching you never felt so true. It left the three men with an easy task. Every now and then they would come across two streets with no cameras, and would split up to continue their search for evidence, always ending up in the same street again.

With only one corner left before they would've had a visual of the grass field near the hospital, Eric spoke up again.

"Guys, there're two little streets left that end up at the field. The right one is quicker, the left is a little bit of a detour but still a possible, since there's no camera angle over there. Both streets end up at the same spot where the victim is finally visible on the camera again. Unfortunately, I can't see which direction he came from." Sam and Callen looked at each other. Both men were sweating from the hike in the Californian sun. Although it was still hot, the sun was becoming less intense and the shadows were getting longer. Callen sighed

"Alright, I'll take the longer way." Sam nodded and walked towards the street to the right. Callen sighed again, tired of the effort undertaken in the last hour, but mostly because of the lack of evidence they had found on the way. It had been hard for him to keep his concentration. The empty, boring streets and the burning sun brought him back to the little piece of paper in his pocket. From time to time he let his hand slide towards it, if for nothing but to be certain it was still there.

His mind was divided between the curiosity of finding out what was hidden at that address and the possible horrible consequences his finding would have on Kensi, and what it could mean for his team. As they walked together, G would spare the occasional glance towards his partner. He couldn't imagine Sam's reaction when he fount out that Callen had been doing things behind his back. He couldn't lose Sam… but he couldn't lose Kensi either.

Reluctantly, Callen pushed his mind back to reality and his body forward to start searching the last street for possible evidence. His eyes slid along the walls, the street and even the sky. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to give up all hope when he finally heard Eric.

"Callen, Sam's got something. He's at the end of the street." With new energy, Callen sprinted across the street towards his partner. He found him crouched over something.

"Tell me it's something good." Sam had put on a black latex glove and picked up the object he was looking at to show Callen. Both men stared at it.

"It's a…"

"Cap from a syringe." They took a closer look and saw a bit of liquid sitting on the bottom of the cap.

"The killer was waiting here for the victim; he wanted to finish what the other perpetrator started. He must have lost or pulled the cap of the syringe before heading towards the field."

"And since the cap was lying in the shade, whatever is in it hasn't evaporated," Sam said, letting out a sigh of relief that they finally had something.

"Finally we've got a clue." Callen leaned against the brick wall. Finally. Sam followed his partner's example, finally giving himself a chance to rest.

"This cap just saved your life." Callen opened his eyes and looked at Sam confused.

"Huh?"

"If we hadn't found anything, I would've killed you for making me walk around in the sun for an hour and a half."

"Hey! I didn't tell the victim to only take the streets without cameras!" The partners shared a smile

"True. Which begs the question…"

"Why? He must've known the locations of the cameras. But why would he hide if he had already been stabbed in plain sight." Sam didn't have an answer.

"Beats me." The former SEAL took another look at his partner and saw his temples covered in sweat. Although perspiration was nowhere near unusual in the afternoon in central California, Callen's forehead was wrinkled from the thoughts vying for attention inside his head, and the bags under his eyes informed Sam that he hadn't had a decent night sleep in a long time.

He pushed himself off the wall and gave his best friend a pat on the shoulder.

"All things that can wait till tomorrow. Come on, I'll drop you off at your place and take the evidence back to headquarters on my way home. You need some sleep." Callen thought about the offer for all of half a second before deciding that he indeed needed some sleep since his head was throbbing from the not-recommended combination of hot sun and a myriad of issues on the brain. But his thoughts soon went straight back to the address, safely stored in his right pocket. He had a promise to keep.

"Maybe you're right." He pushed himself off the wall and they walked back towards Sam's car. Sam only grinned.

"I know. I'm always right, remember?" he said, effectively bringing back their usual banter.

The ride to his motel was short, and Callen soon found himself waving goodbye to his partner after promising he would be waiting outside at five of nine tomorrow morning. He entered his room and took a quick shower before changing his clothes. He sat himself on the awful bed and took out the plastic bag with the piece of paper in it. He had recognized the address. It wasn't so far from the motel, maybe a couple of blocks. A five minute walk tops, fifteen to search the place, five minutes back... He could be done in half an hour. He took a glance at his watch. Only 7:30 p.m., and he was far from hungry. Although not dark yet, it was far from completely light outside, but Callen was experienced enough to stay unnoticed in the twilight. He finally made up his mind, and grabbed his gun before slamming his door shut.

He found the street easily enough, but the house number was a more difficult task. The street was long and most houses were abandoned and ready to be demolished. The neighborhood was obviously bad, as if the fact that Callen was the only visitor in the motel he was staying in wasn't enough of a clue. The manager had looked at him as though he must have lost his mind to want a room here, but Callen loved the abandonment, the quiet. The safe knowledge that no one would come knocking in the middle of the night to ask him to be quiet because he had been exercising… no one would think to come looking for him in an abandoned motel in the middle of nowhere

The further he walked down the street, the quieter it became. He had met a couple of people walking dogs along the way, but now the street was deserted, not a living creature in sight. He took another look at the piece of paper and jogged a little further down the road. He stopped at the house in front of the address and slowly made his way around the back. He examined the area around it but found nothing suspicious. The old house had probably once been home to a family, it had friendly looking pink and yellow curtains in the windows, and the paint was chipping, but it had once been a bright, cheerful white.

Callen slowly approached the back door, he studied the neighborhood one last time to be sure he was alone, before he concentrated on the door. He only turned the knob halfway before the door opened on its own and gave way to the house. Unlocked. All kinds of alarms went off inside his head, but he continued anyway, his gun now drawn.

Although the windows were still intact and the curtains still there, the inside of the apartment was as good as empty except for a cupboard along the far right wall. The Senior Field Agent cleared both floors, as he was trained to do, before beginning his search. The second floor was completely empty, with that being the only thing that was out of the ordinary.

He made his way back toward the ground floor.

He had missed something.

Beside the cabinet were two chairs facing one another, hidden underneath the staircase. Callen noticed several red spots covering one of the chairs as well as the floor around it. His eyes moved towards the cupboard and he slowly opened its two drawers. In the drawer to his right, he found a bloodied piece of rope and the agent immediately regretted not bringing any gloves.

In the left drawer, he found a white shoebox covered in dust. He carefully took it out of the drawer trying to touch as little as possible. Carefully place the box on the counter, and placed his gun next to it. Slowly, he lifted the lid.

His eyes grew wide.

In the box was a pile of pictures, all yellowed with age and some of them smeared with blood. Next to the pictures was a jagged rock, with parts stained a dark red that looked extremely like blood. Although the rock concerned Callen, the picture lying on top of the pile got his full attention. He carefully picked it up to take a better look at it.

His breath stalled in his throat and he became completely unaware of his surroundings. He only had eyes for the picture in his hands.

A small dark- haired girl was hugging an older man who could've easily been her father. An endless desert was stretched out in the background. The girl was smiling the biggest smile you could possibly imagine.

Callen's attention was pulled back to the present by the creaking of a door.