I'm so sorry this update took so long! I knew where I wanted to go with the chapter, but I just couldn't get the words to come out right, and I had absolutely no time to write over the past couple of weeks. Thanks so much for being patient, and I hope you like the way it turned out.
-III-
"Um, should Callen be alone in there with that guy?" Deeks asked.
"He's okay," Sam assured him, although as he watched his partner on screen, he wasn't sure how long that would last. "For now," he added quickly.
Inside the interrogation room, the man they had shot in front of Breanna's house was also watching Callen carefully. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rubbing his shoulder through the heavy bandages, his eyes following Callen as he silently paced back and forth.
When Callen finally spoke, his voice was low and menacing. "Where is she?"
The man didn't answer.
Callen leaned over the table and narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me ask again."
The man's beady black eyes met Callen's icy blue ones for a moment, and then he quickly looked away, sputtering a short phrase in incomprehensible Russian.
"So you're not talking," Callen muttered. "In English anyway. What's your name?"
When he didn't receive a prompt response, he slammed his fist on the table in frustration. "Name," Callen demanded.
"Dmitri," came the raspy, almost inaudible reply.
"Dmitri," Callen repeated. "So Dmitri, you were ordered to kill the girl? Or just distract us long enough so your buddy could grab her?"
The man reverted to silence again, and Callen angrily resumed his pacing.
"Okay, I'll tell you what, Dmitri. We can do this the easy way or—"
"You did this."
Callen whirled around to face him.
The man spoke slowly, struggling with the English words, but his threat was clear.
"You did this," he repeated. "When you fell in love with her mother, Agent Callen."
Callen exploded. He lunged across the table and closed his hands around the man's throat.
"G!"
Sam smashed through the door to interrogation and hauled his partner off their suspect. Deeks rushed in behind him and pulled the Russian man to the other side of the room. Dmitri was waving his good arm wildly, his eyes wide and his face flushing red, yelling something that sounded suspiciously like a string of nasty curses in his language.
"What's he saying?" Deeks asked.
"I'm guessing he's not complimenting our interrogation technique," Sam growled, tightening his grip on his partner's arm. With Callen temporarily restrained, Sam turned to Dmitri. "I'd cooperate here, Mr. Dmitri…or I'm gonna let him go."
Dmitri swallowed visibly.
"The man who took Breanna," Callen said surprisingly calmly. "He ordered the hit on Kensi…tell me who he is."
"I do not know his name."
"Then tell me where I can find him."
"I do not know."
"You're lying."
"He will kill me."
"Trust me, you won't be any better off here."
"He is not easy to find," Dmitri admitted. "He hides in the darkest shadows. He knows things that others do not. He knows your past, Agent Callen…and who you are now. He ordered the hit on your lover because he knew she carried your child."
"Why? What does he want with my daughter?"
Dmitri hesitated. "To end your bloodline," he said quietly.
Callen's entire body tensed, and he strained against Sam's hold on him. "Where I do find him?" he demanded.
Dmitri glanced from Callen to Sam to Deeks, almost as if he were weighing his odds. He quickly decided that they weren't very good. "There is a dirt road to the north where the city meets the desert," he said. "It is marked by six dying trees. He will be inside the abandoned factory there."
That was all Callen needed to hear. Angrily, he broke away from Sam and stormed out of the room.
Just outside the door, Sam caught him by the arm and shoved him backwards against the wall.
"This has been a setup all along," Sam accused. "You're using Breanna to get to this guy."
"Sam—"
"You sent us out there to find her, we led them to that school, we led them to her parents' house. You knew they would take her. This isn't about getting your daughter back. This is about taking out Kensi's murderer. What kind of father would do that?"
"I don't know!" Callen snapped. "I never had one!"
"G—"
"Sam, don't. Her mother is dead because of me."
Sam shook his head. "G, don't think like that."
"They wanted me, and they took Kensi instead. And I couldn't track them down. For six years." Callen paused to take a deep breath, and his voice suddenly became almost strangled. "Sam, I—I never thought I would be the one to lose her."
Slowly, Sam eased his grip on Callen's arm. He had never seen such a look in his partner's eyes before, and there was a part of him that understood the deep, damaging pain that he saw there.
"So is this about revenge or justice?" he asked quietly.
Callen's eyes grew dark. "Both."
"How you doin'?" Callen greeted, shaking the business owner's hand. "EPA. It's time for your unscheduled health and safety inspection. We're gonna have to check you for regulation compliance."
The man looked surprised. "Excuse me? This is the third EPA inspection we've had this year."
"Ha!" Callen snorted. "Tell me about it. It's new paperwork every time. Personally, I think it's overkill. I mean, one report, with supplementals, that's all it needs…unless there's an issue."
Kensi rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, yeah, seriously, you don't want an issue. I mean, filling out those E37s…"
Callen headed down the aisle. "I'm gonna need to see all the usuals, okay? The outflow reports, the monitoring logs, the test results…"
It wasn't the first time they had posed as government officials who could recite federal regulations off the top of their heads. Hetty always provided the guidelines and credentials, but Callen and Kensi knew how to sell it. The procedures, the mannerisms, the jargon…it all came easily to them. They were born undercover operators who could be anyone, at any time, for any reason.
But Kensi knew that Callen had no idea how to be a father.
Her own father would have been surprised that his baby girl had fallen for a man with no concept of family. After all, Kensi's relationship with her father was one of the driving forces in her life. But Callen had never known anything even close to that, and it worried her that he would consequently reject his own daughter.
Until one night when she lay by his side, curled comfortably against his chest, sighing contentedly as he ran his fingers through her silky brown locks and pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. He slowly trailed the line of kisses upwards along her jaw, and when his lips just grazed her ear, his voice sent shivers down her spine.
"Teach me," he whispered.
~*~o~*~
Callen stared blankly out the car window as his words from that night echoed inside his head. He had never even gotten the chance to learn.
He shook off the memory and glanced over at Sam who was driving in silent concentration. It had been an unusually quiet ride out to the desert, and Deeks wasn't even offering any wisecracks from the back seat. It was as if all three of them were completely lost in their own thoughts.
As they passed a grove of black, scraggly-looking trees, Sam abruptly killed the engine on the Challenger and coasted to a stop. Hidden behind the sand dunes, exactly how Dmitri had described, the abandoned factory almost seemed to rise out of nowhere.
"You sure about this?" Sam finally spoke.
"Never been surer," Callen replied. He opened the door and put one foot out, removing his gun and laying it on the dashboard.
"You going in unarmed?"
"He'll take any weapons if he finds them."
"And if he tries to shoot you?"
"Save Breanna and get out of here."
Callen's voice was oddly serious, and with a last glance at his partner, he slid out of the car and headed towards the sand dunes. Sam watched him go.
"You worried about him?" Deeks asked.
Sam's expression was grim. "Right now I'm worried about all of us."
As Callen made his way to the top of a sand dune, he paused and took a good long look at the factory. It was an enormous building that looked completely lost in the wide expanse of the desert. It had also seen better days, as its windows were dark and grimy, its paint was chipped and peeling away, and the south side of its roof was just starting to collapse.
Callen approached cautiously, his senses on high alert, but he was surprised to find that his entrance went completely unchallenged. He pulled open one of the lower level garage doors, and it creaked and clanged noisily as it hit the top of the rusty runners. His footsteps echoed on the floor as he found himself in an empty annex with a high ceiling and long corridors leading off from all sides.
Suddenly, a light flashed on, and Callen whirled around, shielding his eyes with his hand as he was momentarily blinded.
"Welcome, Agent Callen," a deep voice greeted. "I told you we would be waiting."
The bright light dimmed slightly, and a tall man stepped out from the shadows. He no longer wore a mask, but Callen would have recognized him anywhere. His dark features, his wicked eyes, his knowing smile…
Callen froze as he felt a cold metal barrel against the back of his neck.
"Search him."
Several other men quickly surrounded him, and Callen willingly allowed himself to be patted down, not resisting in any way.
"You did not chase me, and now you come unarmed," the man said in surprise. "Why?"
"Wanted to see your face before I put a bullet through it."
The man merely laughed. "Hard to do without a weapon."
"Not impossible."
"Not recommended if you wish to save your daughter."
"Where is she?" Callen asked.
"Oh, I assure you she is safe. For now."
"And who are you?"
The man waved his hand nonchalantly. "Names are not important here. In fact, much like you, I do not have a name."
"Yeah, that's what your guy Dmitri said."
The man reconsidered the question for a moment. "You may call me Alexei," he decided.
"I'd rather call you Kensi's murderer."
Alexei smirked. "Ah, yes...Kensi. Breanna's beautiful mother. She was beautiful, wasn't she, Agent Callen? Perhaps that is where Breanna gets her good looks, no?"
Callen blatantly ignored his underhanded comments. "How'd you find her?" he asked.
Alexei laughed again. "Take a good look at your daughter, Agent Callen. She looks like you, she looks like your lover. It wasn't hard."
Callen raised an eyebrow, indicating that he didn't believe him at all.
"We watched you," Alexei continued. "After her mother died, you were completely blinded by your pain. It drove you mad, didn't it?" He chuckled. "The lone wolf finally finds his mate, and then she dies in your arms…it should have killed you, Agent Callen. And yet you refused to die."
Callen scoffed. "Am I supposed to be sorry for that?"
"It meant that you still had something to live for," Alexei explained. "We simply found out where it was." He glared at Callen accusingly. "You were a mistake, Agent Callen. Your entire bloodline should have been wiped out a long time ago. Your sister made it easy for us. But you—you escaped our radar more than once. And then you fell in love and had a daughter...that was not supposed to happen."
"Then why not just kill me?" Callen demanded. "Why Breanna? Why Kensi?"
"Because there are elements at play here that are way bigger than you and I. We are merely small pawns in this game."
"Yeah, what game is that?"
"The game of truth. Who you really are. Where you come from. Who hired us to eliminate you. What that G really stands for."
Callen's eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward, his fists clenched at his side. "You want to destroy my bloodline, Alexei…you'll have to kill me."
An evil smile formed on the man's lips. "Oh, believe me, Agent Callen...I intend to."
Alexei raised his gun and motioned to his men to step forward.
Callen calmly stared down the long, metal barrel, his eyes never leaving Alexei, as time seemed to come to a standstill. He took a single step backwards, gauging the location of another barrel pressed against his back.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Callen whirled around and landed a nasty punch to the first jaw within reach. As the man's head snapped backwards, his grip loosened on his weapon, and Callen snatched it from his hand and bolted.
Alexei's bullets rang out in the empty garage as Callen dove for cover behind some old metal shelving. There was a short break in the gunfire as Alexei yelled at his men to spread out, and Callen took the opportunity to peek out from behind the shelves and fire back.
The men readily traded gunfire with him, quickly closing in on his hiding place. As they shouted angrily to each other, Callen pressed himself flat against the metal shelf, remaining still and letting their bullets ricochet off the wall over his head.
The sound of screeching tires took them all by surprise. Sam's sleek black Challenger pummeled through the garage entrance at top speed, taking numerous hits from the Russians' gunfire before braking to a halt in the middle of the room. Sam and Deeks leapt out of the bullet riddled car and ducked behind the doors as Alexei's men opened fire on them.
Sam and Deeks were more than willing to exchange fire, and their sharp shooting gave Callen the reinforcements that he needed. He darted out from his hiding place, firing off another round of shots and catching the movement of a shadowy figure just out of the corner of his eye.
As the three agents quickly eliminated the Russians one by one, Alexei had realized that the fight was lost. Abandoning his men, he bolted for his car, gunning the engine and squealing the tires in reverse.
"Sam!"
Callen didn't hesitate about picking up the chase this time. He and his partner scrambled for the Challenger, furiously spinning the car around and speeding towards the garage doors, effectively cutting off Alexei's escape route.
"Thought I told you to save Breanna."
"Thought I'd save her father first."
Sam and Callen flung open the Challenger's doors and squared up their aim as Alexei's car roared towards them.
"Tires or driver?"
"Tires."
The two of them fired in unison at the car's tires, sending the vehicle careening into the wall.
As the front of the car crumpled and the windshield shattered, Alexei found himself trapped between the airbags and the seat. Callen tore the door open and hauled him out of the car by the lapels of his jacket, slamming him up against the wall.
"Where is she?"
Alexei was bruised and bloody from the crash, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet, but Callen could clearly see his lips curve into an evil smile. His voice was weak but still unnervingly sinister. "You will not find her, Agent Callen."
He laughed and valiantly tried to lift his gun with a wounded arm, preparing to pull the trigger…
Until Sam fired a well-aimed bullet through his shoulder. "For my sister," he said with conviction.
Deeks wasn't about to be left out. From across the room, he and his trusty Beretta quickly put a slug through Alexei's other shoulder. "For my partner," he added.
As Alexei lay on the ground with multiple bullet wounds, Callen took a step closer and stared at him with cold, icy eyes. The Russian man was breathing hard, grimacing in pain, blood seeping from his chest, his eyes swollen and sunken in defeat.
Callen leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "For my daughter's mother."
He raised his gun to the man's forehead.
And fired.
As the echo of the last gunshot faded away, an eerie silence fell over the ground floor of the factory. Callen was frozen to the spot. With Sam and Deeks at his side, he could not tear himself away from the body of Kensi's murderer, almost stunned by the sudden end of six years of vengeance.
Several minutes passed before the three men became vaguely aware of a low rumbling behind one of the walls. The floor was just beginning to tremble under their feet, a small vibration at first but quickly growing stronger. Tiny clouds of smoke sizzled out through the cracks in the walls, and a few sparks of fire hissed in the corners.
Callen, Sam, and Deeks didn't even have to say anything to each other. Speaking only through their eye contact, the three of them split in three different directions and raced through the corridors of the building, frantically kicking down the doors to every room, calling Breanna's name.
"Clear!" Sam yelled. "G, they're all clear!"
"Callen, the whole place is gonna blow!"
The walls were shaking harder now, and flames of fire surged through the hallways, rapidly igniting everything in their path. The temperature had shot up to a sticky, stifling heat, and dust and debris were already plummeting from the ceiling.
All three men were coughing from the smoke, wiping tears from their eyes and struggling to remain standing as the ground shook beneath them. A ceiling beam crashed to the ground only inches away, and Callen quickly scanned the corridors, his heart sinking into his stomach. Something wasn't right…there was nowhere else she could be.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Go!" Callen yelled. "Get out of here!" He whirled around and raced back down the corridor.
"G!"
But his partner's voice was lost in the deafening cascade of explosions. In a matter of seconds, the entire ceiling caved in between them, separating Sam and Deeks from Callen with an impenetrable wall of concrete.
Callen reached the end of the hallway and threw himself against the wall. He pounded furiously on it, to the point of making his hands bleed, looking for the weak spot that he knew was there.
When his fist finally smashed through the bottom corner, he ignored the pain and tore back the plaster. He squeezed through the gap and disappeared down the hidden passageway, the ground still quaking beneath him, almost knocking him over as a deep trench sliced through the floor. He knew he was running into a trap with no way out, but he also knew that he had heard his daughter's cry coming from behind this wall.
At the end of the corridor was the heaviest door in the building, padlocked with a bright, shiny new lock. As giant chunks from the ceiling continued to crumble around him, Callen threw his shoulder against the door in a vain attempt to break it down. When it stubbornly refused to budge, he backed up and drew his gun.
"Get back!" he yelled.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and wrapped his finger around the trigger, refusing to think about what would happen if this didn't work. He fired a cluster of shots straight into the door, and the bullets screamed and hissed as they exploded against the wooden frame.
Clawing his way through the splintered wood, Callen broke into the room, barely faltering as he was hit with a massive cloud of toxic gas.
"Breanna?"
He found his daughter sprawled on the floor, her hands tightly bound, coughing hard from the poisonous fumes that spit from the pipes. Her face was streaked with tears and smoky residue, and she was gasping for breath.
"Come on." He gathered the little girl in his arms and quickly pulled her back through the broken door.
The corridor leading back the way he had come was completely blocked, and he had no choice but to flee in the opposite direction.
Quickly, he carried his daughter through the maze of corridors, desperately searching for a way out. Flames from the raging inferno had spread quickly, and the smoke was both blinding and disorienting him. As more wooden beams fell from the ceiling, Callen hit the ground and yanked Breanna away from the burning embers. He hissed in pain as the fire splashed on his skin, and he heard her whimper softly as the flames lapped at her feet.
The panic that he could not get them out of this was just starting to set in. Blindly feeling his way down the corridor, Callen felt his fingers brush against a smooth piece of glass. Recognizing the lone window as his only escape route, he reached for the lock and twisted hard, but it was completely jammed with years of dust and grime.
Without hesitation, he backed up, drew his gun, and fired, the glass shattering into thousands of pieces.
Just seconds ahead of the flames, with a last surge of strength, Callen hurled himself through the window, taking Breanna with him, both of them tumbling into the fresh air, coughing and gasping for breath. As he hit the ground hard, Callen faintly heard Sam and Deeks yelling for him, but he couldn't run anymore...he collapsed on the sand and shielded his daughter's body with his.
And behind them, the entire factory exploded into flames.
Callen lay motionless on the ground, his daughter wrapped in his arms, his head throbbing in pain. He felt dizzy, like he was spinning, wavering on the edge of consciousness, and he could see four white walls closing in around him, with voices howling fiercely in the distance.
"G, come on..."
One of the voices sounded suspiciously like Sam, and Callen suddenly felt strong arms dragging him to his knees. "Come on."
Callen tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt so heavy. He tried to speak, but his throat was completely raw. "Breanna," he croaked.
Somehow he managed to crawl to the little girl's side and put his mouth on hers.
"Come on," he pleaded, cradling her head in his arms, pushing air into her lungs, trying to breathe life into her.
A few moments later, he heard a small cough, and then Breanna coughed again and sputtered violently, her whole body shaking hard.
"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured.
Unable to stay upright any longer, Callen collapsed in exhaustion on the ground next to his daughter. He was coughing now, too, his lungs desperate for fresh air, every muscle in his body screaming in pain.
"That—that's what a father's supposed to do, right, Sam?" he asked hoarsely.
Sam had watched the whole scene unfold before him, and he finally let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He looked down upon Callen and his daughter, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Yeah, G," he replied softly. "Something like that."