Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or NCIS Los Angeles.

Chapter 2 - Frustration

G didn't have a car as such (though the NCIS OPS garage held a couple specifically for his aliases) which is also the main reason (aside from the fact that G could swear that Sam is a control freak) why during the day (and night, if the case required it) if any driving needed to be done – they used Sam's car, but he did have a transport vehicle. One does not live in LA and walk.

He let his fingers slide along the smooth black metal of the gas tank to the soft leather seat before climbing the bike. The motorcycle, which had cost him pretty penny, was part indulgence, part insurance. He took care of his ride; kept a close eye on it and it was so much harder to sabotage a motorcycle that's under 24h guard of his watchful eye, than a car. At least, that's what he told himself when he bought it the same day his physiotherapist let him off permanently (under the assumption G still had a month off-duty). This is all, of course, until he gets shot again. This in turn is how G figured that since a bike is smaller, it's easier to keep an eye on and at the same time, it's also a moving and very maneuverable target – harder to hit.

What G so cleverly hadn't accounted for was that aside from shooters and saboteurs, there are also less conspicuous ways to attack someone on the road.

The 2009 model of Kawasaki Concours 14 has nice fat tires (being a sports model and all) which allows the rider to enter a turn in a fairly low degree against the road, which G was glad to find out felt as cool as it looked, however when you're driving a bike that weighs a ton (or near it, G had never actually bothered to find out) there is a fine line between balance and fall.

It was a small three way intersection, only one lane each way. Just as G was approaching it a man on the street walk took off his cap and a black SUV further down the street powered up. Just as G rounded the corner the SUV tore down the street in his lane, towards him. Reacting instantly – still leaning to the right coming out of the turn, G let his weight shift and the bike overbalance and fall.

The contact with the ground was hard. It knocked the breath out of his lungs and he didn't feel jeans tearing on his right knee which he scraped raw as he fell. The inertia carried off the spinning bike against the wheels of the SUV, but G didn't see that. His body rolled like a rag doll carried by the inertia of the fall until he slammed headfirst into a wall.

The SUV barely managed to avoid the motorcycle and immediately turned right at the intersection and left gaining speed by the second. The man on the sidewalk was also gone by the time G's bike stopped spinning wildly.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Sweet Anthony,

I've started this letter numerous times and I've realized that greeting is the hardest part to write. Everything else just falls into place sooner or later. I've also realized I'd rather sound more insane than I am, than resemble him in any way. I mean your father.

You probably won't get this letter for many more years and I'm sorry. You deserved much more as a child than a grieving mother and deadbeat drunk for a father. I can only hope that you grow up to be what I'd like you to be. Every parent has a dream for their child and I know it's unfair – your father wants you to be him and I want you to be anything but. You can't please us both. He never deserved you and for what I'm about to do – neither do I.

I'm not smart. I've never pretended that I am. I know I've made mistakes and I know you and your brother have paid for them in full. I just want you to know that I never considered you or your brother a mistake. You're the best I've given and received from this world.

If you read this – either your father let you have it and, well, then you're probably not even reading this. You are a real DiNozzo heir then. In that case I want you to know that I hate what you've become. I hate the DiNozzo legacy. Whatever your father's told you about me, I want you to know that I am a woman from a simple, if wealthy family and I've never put much stock into ancestry or surnames, of all things. I'd rather you be a nameless orphan than a DiNozzo.

If your father is dead and you finally know the truth about most things – firstly, I'm glad the bastard is finally here on the other side. I promise I'll give him hell. Also. I'm proud. I'm so proud, because you're not like him; I have no right to be that proud. I didn't deserve your brother either.

You probably already know that if you don't have the control over your part of the money, you can't get it until you find your brother. Your father has tried to convince me that my firstborn is dead, but I'm a mother. I know better. He has to be alive and I want you to find him.

If Gabriel's dead then you will have everything I've ever owned. If not it's all split in equal shares between you two. I had wonderful time planning what either of you would have liked to receive. I imagined myself as Mrs. Santa Claus. Not that DiNozzo could ever be a Santa. He's the devil.

I put these conditions in not to punish you, but to give you something I could never give you while I was alive and what every child deserves. A family. A sibling is the closest thing a child can have aside from Mom and Dad. I'm not a great Mom. I'm not even a good Mom and I apologize for that. I didn't even choose an alright Dad for you. The only thing I can give you, baby, is your older brother.

I named him Gabriel before your father took him away from me barely a day after I gave birth. I never saw him again. I was sick a lot after that. I'm sick a lot now too. When I was finally able to move around and secretly hire a private investigator all the clues were gone. I was pregnant with you by the time I heard first news.

I know for a fact that at month old, your brother was adopted by a middle class American family. The records were buried so deep it took the investigator years to get the barest scrap of information and by now I have no strength to wait and fight more.

I also now know that your father knows where my child, your brother is. He confronted me a week ago. He told me that he discovered my private investigator and he ordered me to stop looking. He hadn't ordered me anything since I gave up your brother. He told me... He told me that your brother's foster family fell apart. That there was some sort of tragedy. He didn't elaborate. He didn't even sound sorry. He wouldn't. I begged. I pleaded. I threatened.

I know I won't find anything anymore. Ever. I may sound dramatic, but I feel dramatic. At this point I do hope that it's been many years for as selfish as I am, I wouldn't want my ten year old to read that I have no wish left to live.

It's been years of nothing and now I don't even have hope that I might have you both by my side. I don't want you to think that you weren't enough for me, my sweet baby. I just can't be the mother you deserve. And I can't bear to be another parent who is a complete disappointment. Maybe without me your father will be more tolerable. I'm loath to leave you to him, but I'm also loath to make you suffer me.

I'm not in my right mind. I'm constantly drunk. I drunk your pet fish and didn't even notice until you started to cry for them. I'm so sorry, baby.

I've never been smart, I'm not a good wife, I'm a worse Mother, I'm a bad example and I'm not brave, and I'm not important. I don't want your pity, I'm being honest. I'm also rich and fairly good looking. You and your brother are the only ones who give meaning to my existence.

I'm sorry, Anthony, that I'm a better mother when I'm dead than when I am alive.

Find your brother. Find a partner. Form a family. You are brilliant as a child. I hope your luck won't run out and the light in your eyes won't be gone by the time this letter reaches you.

From wherever I'll end up – I'll think good thoughts for you, my baby boy.

Love, Mom."

The letter was the most comforting thing he'd ever received from his mother, but at the same time it pissed Tony off. She wanted him to find his sibling and as if he didn't have enough issues with that, she didn't even bother to mention just how older this older brother is. What the hell was he supposed to do with a name?

He put the letter in a drawer of his nightstand before the urge to crumple it in a ball and toss away won over his more sentimental instincts.

He felt like a caged animal. He needed to tear something apart. He had all this excess energy, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anywhere to go. He'd thought that he'd put a stop to ever feeling like this again when he put his signature on the papers that renounced what had been the most defining feature of both of his parents, but no...

At the moment he couldn't help, but hate this mysterious brother who had heaped a whole lot of trouble on him. Not to mention that this older brother was a grown man too. Why would a grown man care about a long-lost brother he'd never heard of? Why would anyone care about some random relatives they've never seen? It's not like everybody was alone like him. Why should he care, if nobody else did? He didn't care...

"DiNozzo?"

Gibbs' voice snapped Tony out of his thoughts like switching off a light. "Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked him over before waving with his hand, gesturing to come with him. Then he turned out and exited the room.

Tony blinked, but followed. "We've got a case?" Silence from Gibbs. Tony frowned. "And how did you get in?" After all Tony was alone in his own apartment. He hadn't told Abby about the letter, he'd waited for her to leave before opening it, so it couldn't be Abby that ordered Gibbs to check up on him and on his own Gibbs wouldn't butt in like that in someone's life.

Gibbs stared. Tony sighed. Except, Gibbs would. Best defense is a good offense. "You picked my lock?"

"We've got a case," Gibbs said simply before leaving the apartment with the apparent expectation that DiNozzo would follow.

Tony was flustered for a moment, before grabbing the backpack he had tossed in the hallway, slipping into his shoes and taking his keys. He locked the doors and skipping the elevator and taking the stairs managed to be down on the ground floor only few seconds behind Gibbs.

Ten minutes later they were at the Navy Yard. Another five minutes later the elevator doors opened to the gym. Something clicked in Tony's brain. "I'm the case?"

"No," Gibbs said exiting the elevator. "Whatever you've got going on is the case," and he was heading for the locker room.

The precious few moments it took Tony to get over his astonishment, the elevator doors almost closed. He slapped himself at the back of the head for slow reaction and trudged in his boss' footsteps.

They were in the box ring by the time Tony felt like speaking up again. "What makes you think I've got anything going on?"

It took Gibbs less than thirty seconds to lay him down. The boss didn't say anything, just stared meaningfully. At least, Tony assumed that there was meaning, something along the lines 'Need I say more' even though the man had yet to say anything since they exited the elevator. Not to mention that it's not uncommon for Gibbs to win a fight with him.

Tony faked a punch with his right and delivered a weaker one with his left. 'Functional mute' he remembered the description of Gibbs he gave to Saleem. Twelve seconds later he was back on his ass.

The gym wasn't empty though it was Saturday. 'There are a lot more people with demons out there than just Tony DiNozzo,' he thought to himself even though he wished it was just him and Gibbs here. He knew that the others weren't in the least bit interested in watching how he got his ass kicked by his boss, but still it felt like they were prying into his life too much. Then again, wasn't he making a fuss over nothing? Absentmindedly he also wondered whether Gibbs would tire of kicking his ass, before he got enough.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Two hours later Tony had enough. He had bruises on bruises. He called Gibbs to stop and was fairly disappointed when his boss did relax and hop off the boxing platform. Tony still didn't feel like talking and he had kind of hoped that Gibbs would manage to beat out of him what he couldn't say out of his own free will, but apparently that wasn't the case.

Half hour and a shower later Tony was buttoning up his shirt and the words suddenly tumbled out of his mouth, "I have a brother," he confessed.

Gibbs shrugged on his jacket. "Alright."

"I don't know where he is. I don't know who he is. I don't even know how old he is. All I have is a name," finally he felt like saying it all aloud. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a name?" he hissed in frustration, though finally, finally he felt like he could breathe ever since he'd first found out.

"We'll figure it out," Gibbs said simply and Tony felt like he had never heard more comforting words in his life.

Tony slammed his locker closed and smiled. "Thanks, boss."

"Yeah, well, next time don't wait for me to get tired of your screw ups to beat a confession out of you," Gibbs said brushing past him.

Tony felt his jaw open in amazement. "You knew?" he cried accusingly following his boss.

Gibbs smirked and slipped in to the elevator making sure that Tony didn't make it. To tell the truth he began suspecting that something was up when Tony was uncharacteristically alright with his father's death. He knew that the younger agent cared for his father more than the man deserved. So he'd had McGee check out if DiNozzo had been up to something during his impromptu holidays and the tickets to Long Island told him all he needed to know. Well, it told him most, the rest was just good guesswork and ability to keep a straight face when Tony finally confessed. After all, it wouldn't do if Tony started to think that he could con his boss without Gibbs finding out about it.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Anybody see G today?" Sam asked when nobody else did. Kensi glanced up from the papers she'd been going through and shrugged. Then she cast a quick look at the clock.

"We're barely starting. Maybe he's late," she said. She knew she was late on occasion, so was Sam. Everybody was late one time or another.

Sam shook his head. "No. Not G. He's never late," he told her starting to feel the far too familiar coldness of dread settle in his bones. "If he's late he races like a maniac and still is on time. Something's wrong."

Kensi stood. She really didn't think that something could have already happened to G at the very start of a work day when they didn't even have a case, but she had learned to trust Sam a long time ago, especially, when Sam had a hunch about something concerning G. The ex-seal was a walking radar of 'Trouble – G' with five def-con levels implemented as necessary.

"Well.. Have you called him yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's not picking up. I've called three times already."

Kensi worried her bottom lip between her teeth. That didn't sound like G. He knew how important it was to pick up the phone when called. She said as much to Sam, but then again, she was only saying out loud what they both already knew. She grit her teeth. G better be just late so she could sick Sam on him for worrying them.

Sam didn't even use speed-dial, even though G was his first number on it. He pressed the buttons faster than the speed dial connected. He waited a full minute for the phone to be picked up, before dropping his end of the line. "That's it. Let's go ask Eric to trace it," he decided.

Kensi nodded in agreement and tagged along as Sam raced up the stairs to the operations room.

Sam was already barking orders at Eric who luckily didn't take affront about the tone when Sam's phone insistently rang out in the otherwise quiet operations center. The phone was out of his pocket and in his hand in less than three seconds. It took another two for Sam's brain to register the caller and grit his teeth in barely suppressed frustration.

"G! What the hell is wrong with you, man? I've been calling you..."

"I'm sorry. Are you Sam?" a completely foreign voice questioned interrupting Sam's tirade.

"Who are you and where's G?" Sam's tone immediately changed. Eric looked up at Sam and brought the GPS signal's location up on the big screen. Kensi was seemingly casually leaning against the table, but Sam knew better. She was coiled as a snake ready to strike, just... There was no one to strike at here. G and whoever had him where out in the LA streets.

The man on the other end of the line nervously licked his lips. "I'm an emergency medical technician. This phone was found on the man we recovered from a recent traffic accident. Your number was the last one dialed."

"Fuck," Sam cursed. "How is he?" G got into far too many accidents far too often for Sam's liking. He didn't even start on thinking about how this was the second time G was in a car crash within the space of two damn days. He wasn't even about to start thinking that G was on that damn motorcycle. He just wasn't..

"We're taking him to hospital for tests. We will know for sure when they're done."

"Which hospital?" he asked biting back another curse. If G was conscious, he wouldn't have let anyone take him to a hospital. G hated hospitals with passion. Which could only mean that G wasn't in any capacity to con his way out of a ride in the ambulance. "Right," Sam said grabbing the nearest piece of paper and writing down the name of the hospital. "Where was the accident?" Sam wrote down the intersection. "Thanks," he said before dropping his end of the line.

Eric and Kensi shared a glance. Sam barked out orders and dropped the paper with the addresses besides Eric's keyboard, "Eric, inform Hetty. Check if there's any cameras in that intersection – I want to know what the hell happened. I'm going to the hospital. Kensi..."

"I'm coming with you," she stated.

"In your own car," Sam added. G might drive like a maniac, but Sam didn't believe for one moment that this was just an accident. Accidents didn't happen to G. Trouble did.

Kensi frowned. "You think..." She didn't finish as she caught Sam's dark gaze. Apparently Sam did think that there was something fishy and if there was, and then nothing would tear the ex-seal from G side which meant that, "My car. Got it."

"Status updates as soon as you've got them," Sam said over his shoulder to Eric as he was leaving the ops center.

"Sure!" Eric called back distractedly as he was simultaneously calling Hetty and putting up a search for security cameras within the vicinity of the intersection where G had the accident.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"I promise you, we will do everything…," Abby reconsidered her choice of words. "Anything! I mean, like, really anything to find your lost brother. Promise! Right, guys?"

McGee had been solemnly nodding along Abby's speech and didn't need the tech to glare at him to hasten to wordily express his complete devotion to this matter. Ziva being a smart former Mossad agent that she was swore with straight face to do even the impossible to help - not that she wasn't ready to help anyhow, but she threw the impossible/improbable thing in just for Abby. She didn't want to get on Goth's bad side, because as fluffy as Abby could be she also could kill a person and leave no forensic evidence. Honestly. Abby often said so.

Nobody glared at Gibbs or prodded him, but the Senior Supervisory Agent clapped on Tony's back which spoke volumes to everyone present.

"Thanks, boss," Tony said and patted his own shoulder as if to make sure that it was still there.

There was an awkward pause of silence where once everybody was done assuring themselves and Abby that they would indeed do their best to help Tony – nobody was doing anything yet. Mostly they were unsure where to start with the little info that they had, but hesitation disappeared once Gibbs particularly expressively barked "Get to work."

"I'll check the paperwork. If there's anything amiss, I'll find it," McGee said turning in his chair to face the computer.

"I'll help. We're doing that in my lab," Abby added dragging McGee out of his chair by the sleeve of his shirt. He barely managed to cancel all the programs he had already opened.

"I'll call my contacts," Ziva announced.

"I'll be…" Tony started unsure how he was going to finish that.

"Going down to have Ducky check you out," Gibbs finished for his agent.

"Why?"

"You were coughing. I'm not having you break down in the middle of the case just because you couldn't be bothered to take a pill against the flu."

"I don't have the flu!" Tony protested. "I feel fine! I've never even had the flu and …" He could feel a little tickle in his throat, but swallowed over it and continued, "I'm not coughing!" He took a dramatic pause and with wide and open eyes in a completely heartfelt tone he added, "I need to help."

"You were coughing last week. You go down to Ducky and help by staying healthy," Gibbs wasn't going to be persuaded.

"Boss," Tony resorted to whining.

"Or Abby will drag you," he expressively nodded towards the elevators where Abby was dragging McGee with her in a completely undignified manner. In a way it was amazing how the slim girl manhandled Tim, on the other hand it was completely terrifying.

Tony looked where Gibbs was looking and swallowed hard and then thought better about arguing. "Gotcha Boss."

"Good," Gibbs approved before turning on his heel and jogging up the stairs to the MTAC.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Tony sat on the stone cold slab and thought about sitting on it and felt like laughing about it, but since Ducky had studied human behavior and was qualified to do emotional autopsies or whatever their scientific title, Tony decided that he'd rather keep some feelings to himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ducky, but knowing how overprotective his friends could get, he'd rather his every move wasn't over-analyzed.

As it was sometimes Tony thought that Gibbs enjoyed as much beating the crap out of him on the mat as fussing over him at other times. But Tony didn't like to think about it like that, after all a nice Gibbs wasn't Gibbs. So he stuck to the official version that he was here so that he wouldn't be sick, so that he wouldn't screw up. Again.

On a completely unrelated side note it did make Tony feel all nice and warm inside that his team cared for him and was taking care of things, of course this feeling was buried under a mountain of righteous anger about the fact that he'd been sent away while the others did whatever it is they do to get results. Tony wanted to be in the middle of it all – he wanted, no, he needed to know first.

Ducky gave him a flu shot and no, Tony did not want to know why a coroner would have flu shots, and then he was free. Well, as free as one could be while pretending to listen to Ducky.

Halfway through what Tony was sure was a great story about Timbuktu, he finally managed to get two words in-between, "I can go?" Alright, it was three words, Tony felt like a hero.

"Well, if you absolutely have to, because I do recommend rest for you, young man. Seriously, Tony, you…"

"Thanks, Ducky!" Tony said decisively, grabbed his jacket and was out of the door before another word could be said. He climbed the stairs, because he felt that the elevator would be too slow and, honestly, he was pretty sure that know he knew how a control freak felt like on a daily basis. He needed status updates – ASAP.

Even if there was nothing new. Even if there was nothing he could do, he needed to be in the middle of it all and at least pretend that he was actually accomplishing something, because to think of it – he had a brother. It was such a wondrous thought he could hardly wrap his head around it, because while the wills of his parents and their wishes really did mean very little to him, the fact that there was another person to whom he was related in the world and that this person might actually be a decent human being… Well, it was a bit overwhelming which might account for the fact that after his ill-advised run he had to conclude that he really had a bit of a cold. He was certain he had coughed up a lung by the time Ziva reached him with a glass of warm water.

"Are you alright, Tony?"

Tony was a bit red in the face, but that didn't stop him from replying, "I just donated a lung to the floor. I'm fantastic." Then he gulped down the water and felt marginally better. "I really am," he continued much more confidently. "I'll grow a new one. I'm a Timelord."

Ziva just shook her head. "If you're quite done, we've found something."

Tony immediately straightened. "Wha…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "What?"

Being perfectly aware of her surroundings as she was trained to be, Ziva heard the light ding of the elevator and correctly assumed that it's McGee who had called from Abby's lab barely a minute earlier. Adopting some of Tony's flair for dramatic, she pointed to the elevator door just as it opened and McGee rushed out.

Tony frowned, "How did you…"

"Oh, great, you're all here. Where's Gibbs?" Tim asked surveying the whole floor.

Tony felt like a ping pong ball in the hands of talented players. "Just tell me and tell Gibbs later. Now, probie!"

Tim blinked, didn't think about it, shrugged and opened the file in his hands for reference, "Right. So Abby and me dug through some of the paperwork and most of the personal stuff that you're father had drawn up is pretty damn airtight, however the company's papers, now there… You just can't be a bastard, manage a huge corporation and make no mistakes," Tim smirked.

"What did you find?" Ziva asked before Tony exploded.

"You told us that your father said he'll give everything away to distant relatives, right?" McGee asked glancing at Tony.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, it looks like he's giving away the corporate to his XO. We dug up that there's some hush-hush conditions concerning it and Abby's trying to get to the bottom of it, but it looks fishy."

"What does it have to do with fish?" Ziva questioned.

"It's a colloquialism. See, when something seems suspicious…"

"Forget it!" Tony interrupted them. This is exactly why he had been so hesitant to let his team in on it. He had to know first. He just had to, so that he could at least try to make some sense of all of this and now – all the other people knew things, even if it was just tidbits of information and lots of maybes instead of certainties to them – it was important to Tony, but it seemed like they didn't realize it. Everything went on as usual and for Tony this was anything but usual. "I will personally explain it to you later. Again. Just tell me what you all know."

"Well, that's it, actually," McGee said. "A bunch of papers. Some of it looks suspicious, but there might not be anything to it, but a couple of greedy guys."

"Well, I found the investigator that Mrs. DiNozzo hired. He's dead. He was killed and I already reviewed the police file – I think it was done by a professional."

Tony nodded his mind already changing gears. "Where did he live? Are there any records left that we could go over? Look for some clues?"

"I already checked. No. Everything was destroyed in the fire. The same one in which the investigator died."

Tony cursed. "How convenient." He took a calming breath. "So, we've got nothing." His molar hurt from grinding his teeth. He didn't believe his father; he didn't want to believe his father – there was no way that a man with little friends and only what money could buy could have destroyed every piece of evidence that could lead Tony to his last living relative, to the only blood that might lend some truth to the whole 'blood runs thicker than water' thing. It just can't have happened. Everybody deserves at least one fairy tale ending in life – Tony wished with all his heart to find his brother.

"Eames Rogers," Gibbs said rounding a corner.

"What?" Tony decided, then and there, that he needed to come up with a new question word. This one was getting old really fast.

"The name of your mother's lover. I assume that he's also the father of your brother."

"How did you find that out?" Tony asked.

"Is he alive?" Ziva was more pragmatic.

Gibbs ignored Tony and answered to Ziva. "No."

"Well, what good does another dead guy…" McGee started, but abruptly stopped once Gibbs glared at him. "I will find out everything about that guy from birth to his last minute including his last supper," he vowed and hastily pressed the elevator button to get down back to Abby.

"Abby's busy. At your own desk."

"Right, Boss," Tim nodded and resisted the nervous urge to swallow. He pushed past Tony and went to his computer.

"Ziva…"

"I'm sure there are some leads about the killer, if not I'll talk to Abby, a professional would have to be paid and it would have been a pretty sum that can be traceable. There also might be evidence connecting to the investigator's death," she promptly said and just as efficiently turned on her heel and went back to her desk.

"Boss…," Tony said tentatively. He knew he had lost it a bit the moment before, but Gibbs didn't seem angry. Then again, Gibbs rarely seemed anything and then he smacked you on the back of your head when you were least expecting it.

"We'll find him, Tony," Gibbs said in what was probably his most reassuring tone. It wasn't reassuring to Tony.

"Right, Boss."

"Meanwhile, keep it together," Gibbs added and smacked Tony on the back of the head. "Also, Abby said she needed you so go down and don't forget the Caf Pow."

"Yes, Boss," Tony said feeling reassured and walked away. His lips slowly twisted into a grin. If his tension mood swings would stop, he was sure that everything would be perfect. After all, with his team on the case – his father had never stood a chance. He was pretty sure of it. At least for the moment.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Sam and Kensi were speeding across the town and Eric managed to manage the traffic lights in their way as well as review the security tape from a corner convenient store on the street were G crashed. The SUV that made G crash was plate-less and with tinted windows and apparently the bad guys had thought it to be enough, however nobody tinted the front-window unless they wanted to be caught by cops five minutes from the drive-way, and even though the camera was on the opposite side of the street from the SUV, when Eric's program was done with the still image from the camera (which didn't take all that long with the impressive computer power of the Operations Center) the face of the man sitting beside the driver was clearly visible.

Eric ran a search on the face and it took less than a minute for a result to pop out. He ran a red light in Sam' and Kensi' way and called them at the same time warning them to slow down.

"What is it, Eric?" Sam asked stopping before the red traffic light. It had been eight minutes since he and Kensi left the OSP Headquarters.

"Okay, first – the accident was no accident. Callen was run down by an SUV. Second – it was done by local gang-bangers, and newbies at that. It's a new gang formed by outcasts of the two existing ones in that neighborhood and so far they hadn't popped on any law enforcement radars as a gang, there's a ton of minor offenses though so they're in the system. The guy I identified is called FunnyJ, actual name – Bob Jennings and he's the right hand man to the gang leader called Detailer, actual name – Stewart Reynolds."

"Got location?" Sam asked tapping his fingers against the wheel.

"I have the address to a bar that Reynolds' father owned. The bar went bankrupt a decade ago and the building belongs to a bank, but because of the neighborhood nobody's paid much attention to it. It's considered abandoned."

"Ok, thanks, Eric," Sam said. "Kensi – go check it out. Don't go in. Just cruise around. See if you can find the SUV that crashed G – Eric, send her the details. Be careful and meet you back at the HQ after I get G."

"On it," Eric muttered, already typing.

"G won't stay at the hospital?" Kensi asked checking the coordinates Eric had sent to her GPS, then she changed her lane. Then on her on-board screen a black and fairly undistinguished SUV showed – a few more pictures from the same angle followed.

"I know G. He's probably gonna be waiting by the entrance door by the time I get there," Sam replied.

Kensi tsk-ed, but said nothing more. The traffic lights finally went green.

"See you back at work later," she said and turned right.

"Be careful," he replied and drove straight.

Eric noted the end of the conversation and closed the call.