Sam leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, straight-faced. He was deeply concerned about his partner's state of mind. Callen, on the other end, simply ignored the fact that the other man was in the room, and continued to discharge his weapon until the clip was empty again.
Callen put his gun down and leaned forward against the ledge in front of him, arms extended and holding on to steady himself, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.
Sam shook his head and cautiously walked over to Callen, standing close, but far enough away so that Callen had room to breathe.
"Want to talk about it?" Sam prodded softly, his voice low, almost a whisper.
"No," Callen shook his head and quickly stood upright, forgetting for a moment that Sam was even in the room.
"Okay," Sam answered respectfully. He watched as Callen began to clean his firearm, almost as if standing guard.
Sam simply observed and a few minutes passed before Callen broke the silence.
"Why do you care?"
"What kind of question is that, G.?"
"I'm serious, Sam. Why do you care?" Callen never looked up at Sam. He scrubbed and scrubbed, as if the gun had never been cleaned before.
"You want to know why I care? I care because you're my partner, G.! Aside from that? Whether you like it or not, we're family! Some days, I question whether that's a good thing or a bad thing," Sam teased, then continued, "and above all else? You're my best friend, G." Sam paused for a moment, letting it sink in. He studied Callen, who didn't seem to flinch, but Sam knew that he more than likely hit a nerve with the man before him. They had never discussed their relationship or the reasons behind their closeness. It was unspoken, yet greatly known. They didn't need to speak of it to know that it existed, but today, Sam felt like Callen needed to hear it.
Callen continued to clean his gun, poker-faced, still never making eye contact with Sam. Sam finally inched closer and put his hand over the one of Callen's that was still scrubbing, forcing him to stop.
"You've got two options, G. You either sit this one out, or you get your head back in the game. I need to know you'll have my back."
Sam let his hand rest on Callen's for a moment before removing it, allowing his own words to sink in.
Callen sighed and finally looked up at his partner.
"You want the truth?"
"That would be a pretty good place to start, G.," Sam nodded.
Callen glanced around, confirming that no one else was in sight, and looked back up at Sam.
"The third guy in those pictures..." He hesitated a moment before continuing, "his name's Donovan Overbeck."
"One of the guys you told me about from Russia?"
Callen nodded, "We were supposed to meet this morning... at the same place they were murdered."
Sam cocked his brow in surprise.
"I called his number from a burned phone to confirm the meeting. He told me last week that he had information about my past. When he didn't answer, I figured this was about as good a lead as the rest of the ones I've had, and figured he just bailed. Wouldn't be the first time."
"So, what are his ties to this Chastain guy?"
Callen shrugged his shoulders. "Never heard of him. Donovan wasn't much of a people person."
"Guess that explains why you connected with him so well," Sam smirked, hoping to ease the tension that was clearly etched all over Callen's form.
"He stayed to himself. He was a loner. Never married, never had kids. In the time that I knew him, he never even dated. That's just who he was."
"So, you've been in touch with him the last ten years?"
"He's the only one of the four, Sam."
Sam nodded understandingly, putting aside the fact that Callen had lied to him earlier. "And the other three?"
"Couldn't tell you a thing about them, other than what we discussed earlier." Callen dropped his eyes and walked away from Sam momentarily. "That could've been me, Sam. It should've been me."
"But it wasn't, G. You were smart enough not to get involved."
Callen sighed and shook his head, then turned and walked back to where he was originally standing. Clearly, G. Callen and Donovan Overbeck were much closer than Callen cared to share. "It's just not right, Sam. Someone's after me, and I need to figure out who it is before anyone else gets hurt."
Meanwhile, Kensi and Deeks were pulling up to the convenient store, trying to find answers as to who purchased the cell phone that had been in contact with Carli Chastain prior to her husband's death.
"Chaz's Quick Mart. Now, that's original."
Kensi snorted at Deeks' comment and got out of the vehicle, Deeks following close behind. She turned to face him, "So, let's see if Chaz can tell us anything we don't already know."
The two entered the store and approached the counter, offering smiles.
"Hi," Kensi acknowledged politely. "Are you-"
Before she had a chance to finish, Deeks interrupted, "...Chaz?"
Kensi shot a 'Really?' look in his direction and he couldn't help but flash an innocent grin.
"Yes, that would be me," the man behind the counter answered, his accent of Arab descent.
Kensi flashed her badge. "I'm Agent Blye, NCIS. He's Detective Deeks, LAPD. May we ask you a few questions?"
The man hesitated, glancing between to the two authority figures in front of him before proceeding to nod. "Y-Yes. Did I do something wrong?"
"Not yet," Deeks cocked his head with a slight smirk. "We have evidence of a phone that was purchased from this store two days ago, around nine A-M. You wouldn't happen to have working surveillance cameras, would you?"
The man nodded above the counter, then to two other areas of the store. "Why, yes, actually. I do. Please, what may I be of assistance with?"
Kensi interjected, "Is there any way that we can have access to the security footage from that time frame?"
"Oh, of course! I would need to contact Ismael, as he can provide you with the videotapes. I do not have access to the security room."
"But this is your store?" Deeks questioned curiously.
"It is my store, indeed."
"And you don't have access to the security room because...?" Deeks trailed off.
"I did not want it. I would not even have these cameras, if the inspectors did not mandate them. If my customers cannot come in and feel safe and trusted, then I do not deserve their business. My customers are like family. They do not deserve for me to be following their every move. If something may happen, we have the tapes. I, however, refuse to involve myself in that kind of behavior unless it is deemed absolutely necessary. I have not had a single incident in my fifteen years here. My customers respect me as I respect them."
Deeks and Kensi exchanged glances, then faced the store owner again.
"How may we get in contact with... Ismael?" Kensi asked.
"Ismael will be here for his shift in ten minutes. You are more than welcome to wait and discuss this with him yourselves."
"We appreciate that, Mister...?" Kensi trailed off, waiting for the man to provide her with his last name.
"Amali. Please, call me Chaz."
"Well, we greatly appreciate your time and cooperation, Mr. Amali... Chaz." Kensi offered a smile and nudged Deeks to follow her away from the counter to wait for Ismael to arrive.
Deeks followed her and looked behind him as he walked, nodding to the man behind the counter with a smile.
"Okay," Deeks whispered, turning to Kensi, "is it just me or was that guy pretty creepy? Because he sure seemed creepy to me."
"Relax, Deeks, he's just loyal to his customers," Kensi chuckled.
"Being loyal is one thing. I don't care who you are, you don't trust people that much in this day and age," Deeks commented, grabbing a package of Ho-Hos and flashing them at Kensi.
She shook her head with a smirk. "I'm good, Deeks, but thanks. My stash is still stocked." Kensi paused for a moment before replying, "Maybe he's just old fashioned? I mean, think about it. We grew up a lot differently than people his age."
"Old fashioned? I get that. Still, he doesn't live in those times anymore, Kens. I'm just sayin'."
"Well, clearly, he feels comfortable enough to-"
Kensi's response was cut off by gunshots. The two quickly hit the floor, instinctively reaching for their weapons.