"Callen!" Sam yelled as he scrambled down the rocks back into the water to rescue his partner. Even though the water was murky, it was shallow enough for Sam to easily locate his partner and drag him to the surface. It took a few moments but he finally got Callen out of the water and securing resting on the lower tier of boulders. After he was sure his partner was not going to slip back into the water, Sam climbed back to the top of the larger rocks, picked up the backpack and pulled out a length of rope. Dropping back down to the lower tier, he rigged an elaborate harness around Callen's legs and uninjured shoulder. Since Sam had no clue about the whip slashes on Callen's back, he never took that into account when he came up with his plan to hoist his partner up the rocks; his only worry had been the bullet hole in Callen's left shoulder. After propping his partner so he'd be easier to haul upwards, Sam made what he hoped was his final ascent to the top of the larger boulder with the rope in his hands.

Bracing his feet and ensuirng his grip was secure, Sam started pulling on the rope. As the cord tightened around his back, Callen was momentarily thrust back to consciousness by the pain radiating throughout his body and he began shrieking in agony. Sam so unnerved by the unexpected sound he almost let go of the rope. However, his training kicked in and he kept a tight hold on the rope and continued to steadily haul Callen up the rocks. Mercifully, Callen passed out again and the soul ripping screams subsided.

By the time the injured man reached the top, Sam was sweating from both exhaustion and nerves. As he untied his jury-rigged rope harness, Sam ran an observant eye over Callen's body. He could see fresh blood stains on the front and back of Callen's shirt which he attributed to the bullet wound in his left shoulder; the fact that it was still bleeding concerned Sam, though there wasn't anything he could do about it until he found a safe place for them to rest.

Standing up and stretching his aching muscles, Sam studied the area surrounding them; the terrain was rough and rocky. A glance at this watch confirmed what his internal clock was telling him that they had less than three hours until total darkness; Sam was going to have to work quickly to find a secure place for them to wait out the night.

Observing his surroundings again, Sam thought he detected an odd pattern of dark and light about 200 yards to his right. Making sure Callen was far enough from any edge in case he woke up, Sam headed off in the direction of the anomaly. It took him five minutes to reach the area and as he drew closer he became hopeful; it was a small cave, really a glorified indentation, but it was big enough to offer safety and security from prying eyes iand defendable from any type of marauders, animal or human. This was the first break they had and Sam was happy for it. He hurried back to where the unconscious Callen lay, picked up the backpack, gently slung Callen over his shoulder and headed for their temporary shelter.

Their mini-cave was 30 feet deep, 20 feet wide and tall enough for Sam to stand upright. The walls and ceiling were formed by pieces of rocks that had tumbled on top of each other to form a natural grotto. The floor was cold stone so after Sam placed Callen gently down, he dug a thermal blanket out of the pack and spread it out before relocating G onto it.

Sam ran a weary hand over his face as he stood considering his next course of action. It was a no brainer they wouldn't be moving anywhere else tonight so the last of the daylight had to be spent wisely. He knew in this climate it was going to cool off at night and he wondered if there was anything nearby to use as fuel for a fire. While he knew light could be seen at a distance, he thought the geological structure of this cave would allow him to build a small blaze where it wouldn't be very noticeable and the fissures in the ceiling would carry away the smoke.

Fatigue was catching up with Sam and he dug in the pack for a water bottle and gulped down its contents; he had to keep strong because it was obvious Callen was going to need his support to survive this ordeal. Snagging a protein bar, Sam munched on it as he moved back to Callen, squatted down beside him and checked his pulse. It was rapid, but steady and Sam was satisfied; it was safe to leave him while he searched for fuel.

Getting up and moving towards the front of their hidey hole, Sam eyed the backpack as he walked by it. It contained a satphone that was designed to survive getting wet so Sam had no concerns that it wouldn't work. What he was worried about was someone tracking it. He and Callen were in no shape to move or fight anyone tonight so it was imperative that they remain off the radar as long as possible; Sam wouldn't risk using the phone tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to confirm their exit strategy. By then he'd better know the extent of Callen's injury and how fast they could travel.

Sam secured his gun from the pack, took it out of the waterproof bag and checked it out. It appeared to have survived its bath fine. From another waterproof pouch he took an ammo clip and dropped that into his pocket while placing the gun in his back holster.

Fiddling which his watch, Sam set an alarm for 45 minutes from now. If he hadn't secured what he needed by then, they'd have to forego it and the hope of a fire. Sam didn't want to run out of daylight before he had a chance to examine Callen's wounds and provide any medical treatment possible given their remote location. He was carrying a Hetty enhanced medical kit and he was confident it would have contain supplies.

Within his allotted time, Sam was able to find enough fuel to make a fire and he piled it inside the mouth of their cave. He noticed while he was gone, Callen had rolled onto his right side though he remaind unconscious.

Digging in the backpack, Sam located and pulled out the medical kit and carried it over to where Callen lay. As he knelt down next to his partner, he glanced at Callen's shirt; the bloodstains still looked wet. Placing the kit on the stone floor, Sam reached over to undo Callen's shirt so he could examine the bullet wound. Unbuttoning the last closure, Sam gently pushed the shirt off Callen's left shoulder to expose the bullet hole. He found exactly what he thought he would find; it was still weeping blood, not a gusher, but a fairly steady seepage. Since this was a thru and thru, he maneuvered Callen into a semi-seated position, holding him upright using his good shoulder, so he could examine the exit site.

Sam's eyes traveled over the front of Callen's left shoulder and onto his back where suddenly he saw the carnage; his partner must have been tortured by his captors! Sam gasped and he felt ill as he stared at the raw slashes and gouges that covered Callen's back. The numerous wounds were torn open and Sam could see the signs that an infection had already settled into several of the gashes.

Finally he understood his partner's behavior since he had rescued him from that prison. In typical lone-wolf fashion, Callen had been dealing with this mutilation in silence. Sam's stomach felt nauseous when he thought about how many times he must had inadvertently caused Callen pain; an involuntary shudder ran through the strong man's body.

"Damn it G! Why didn't you tell me?" Sam said aloud in a burst of anger, then feeling immediately contrite, he gathered the unconscious man carefully in his arm and hugged him.

Sam always thought his partner had impeccable timing and of course it was now, that he chose to wake up. As he felt the smaller man start to struggle, Sam made shushing noises and tried to reassure his partner as he gently placed him back on the ground on his good side.

Callen woke up in a blaze of pain and disorientation and he groaned as he opened his eyes. One attribute Callen had always been favored with was the ability, even under duress, to quickly acclimate to his environment. It didn't take him long to spot Sam, who was sitting back on his haunches and remember what had happened, though he still know their location. Lying down was too vulnerable a position so in spite of the misery he was feeling he struggled to sit up.

Sam knew his partner well enough to understand why he was trying to sit so instead of lecturing him, Sam reached over and helped steady him. Once upright, Callen fought the dizziness that threatened to send him back to the ground. "Where are we?" he croaked with his head bowed.

"Cave. Near the lake," Sam replied as he watched Callen struggling to clear his head.

"Uh-huh. Did you haul me here by dragging me over the rocks." He moved his injured arm snug against his side then yelped when his ribs on that side let it be known they weren't happy. Swearing in Russian as was his habit, he gently ran his good hand over his left side, wincing when he hit the tender area. Slowly raising his head, he wearily looked at Sam. "When did I break my ribs?"

"Maybe at the same time when you got those marks on your back," Sam replied sarcastically. "The ones you failed to mention."

Callen let his gaze drift past Sam and out the mouth of the cave. "No. My ribs were intact when I was rescued from the prison..."

"...by me," Sam interjected.

"...by you," Callen agreed. "So it happened since then. I'm pretty sure they were OK when we jumped out of Zoya too."

Sam mock slapped his forehead. "Silly me. I know when it happened. You fell, when you tried to climb up the rocks by yourself with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a back that looks like it was mauled by a tiger."

Callen let out an unintentional sigh then grimaced when it made his ribs hurt. "Forgot that part."

"Like you forgot to mention your back," Sam huffed.

Callen let his eyes wander back to focus on Sam. "What difference would it have made? You needed to be focused on us escaping."

"I could have focused on us escaping as well as your back," Sam told him.

Callen snorted. "What could you have done Sam?" he asked caustically. "What was done was done."

Sam stared at his partner avidly. "I could have offered sympathy and morale support; that's what friends do. You went lone wolf on me again G.

Callen could see the hurt in his partner's and best friend's face and he felt bad. "I'm sorry Sam. But it's who I am. Being open to people gets you kicked in the face," he said in a rare moment of honesty.

"It's not being open that gets you kicked in the face, it's the fact that you are a pain in the butt," Sam muttered disagreeably.

But he instantly felt bad when Callen readily agreed. "Yeh, that's what the social workers and the teachers and the foster parents always told me. I was a pain, a burden." Callen tiredly lowered his eyes to the ground and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the cave.

Sam gently reached out and laid a warm hand on Callen's forearm. "I won't deny you are a pain in my ass sometimes, but never a burden my friend. But now, I'm about to make you hate me. We have got to take care of those wounds before we lose the light." Sam removed his hand and glanced back over his shoulder out the mouth of the grotto.

Callen turned his head and stared at the bullet wound on his left shoulder which was bleeding again. "You have to stop this bleeding Sam."

"Let's try a pressure bandage," Sam said rooting around in the medical kit. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on before grabbing the pack of the antiseptic pads. "This is gonna be unpleasant," Sam warned.

Callen sighed as he looked away. "Yeh it always is."

Unpleasant was too mild a word for the next few minutes of misery as Sam swabbed the bullet wounds and then applied a pressure bandage to cover the front and back holes. Callen was heavily sweating by the time Sam was done.

Sam sat back on his heels again, contemplating Callen's ravaged back. "I don't know what to do for these wounds G. Were they caused by what I think?"

"I don't know. Are you thinking whip wielding maniac?" Callen was glad Sam was sitting behind him because he didn't have to worry about controlling both his voice and face. Keeping his tone neutral, he told his tale. "Our Intel was bad. Corey wasn't on our side. He was the one that turned me over to them. The locals hauled me off and threw me in that cell where you found me. Every morning at sunrise they dragged me out into the courtyard and attached cuffs to my wrists and hauled me up until my toes barely touched the ground."

Callen's eyes traveled down to the abraded skin on his wrists and Sam's eyes tracked there too. Sam felt guilty he had failed to notice the marks on his partner's wrists.

Callen picked up his story again. "A crowd would gather, men and women, all robed, their faces obscured by their headgear. They would patiently wait for him to appear with the whip. He asked me the same question every day. 'Did I renounce my sins in the face of Allah.'" Callen swallowed hard though a small grin graced his face. "I have a lot of sins Sam. Not sure which ones they meant."

Sam finally put the pieces of the puzzle together from his knowledge base. "The buildings. The ones that were blown up."

"We had nothing to do with that!" Callen exclaimed consumed by his partner's suggestion.

"You know that and I know that but we are here on a covert operation so no one else knew that. White, American infidel who happened to be town when the buildings went boom. Perfect scapegoat," Sam declared. "Wrong place, wrong time."

Callen laughed bitterly. "You can say that again. Nineteen lashes every morning with that damn whip when I didn't confess."

"Sacred number," Sam expounded.

"Wishing their sacred number could have been two or better yet zero," Callen replied wryly. "When he was done, they shoved me back in my prison to wait until the next morning when the fun began all over again."

Sam hated how lightly Callen seemed to take this horrible event that occurred to him. "Why do you make a joke out of being tortured G?"

Callen shifted so he could see Sam's face. "Because if I don't, I'll lose my mind," he replied seriously. Callen bit his lower lip and shook his head. "Joking is the only way I can keep my sanity. I'm on the verge of losing it Sam."

Sam returned his gaze to Callen's mangled back. "These wounds are infected."

Callen nodded his head in concurrence. He figured as much since he knew he was running a low grade fever; had been since the second day of prison.

"I can give you an antibiotic shot. Hetty packed some." He grimaced as he examined the wounds again. "I can try to wash them out and apply disinfectant, but that's a big undertaking in this environment."

Callen didn't think he could survive that at the moment. "Might do as much harm as good."

"That's true," Sam concurred. "So just the shot it is." Sam rose and went back to the medical kit.

Callen eyed the syringe filled with antibiotics warily. "Could we forget that too?" he asked hopefully.

Sam halted his prepping of the needle and looked over at his partner. "Did I mention I have a satphone? I wasn't gonna use it until morning because I don't want to risk giving away our position tonight. But if you want, I'll call Hetty and we could ask her if you need this antibiotic shot."

Callen cocked his head slightly. "I believe you'd actually do that."

"Don't tempt me," Sam rallied.

Sighing Callen held out his good arm. "Be quick."

Sam swabbed the area with a clean disinfectant pad and swiftly injected the needle. When it was over, Callen remained silent. "Aren't you going to complain it hurt?" Sam asked out of curiosity. His partner never failed to grouse when being stuck by a needle.

Callen shook his head no. "Hardly noticed it. Too much other pain," he answered being brutally honest.

"I can give you something for that. Hetty has this kit well stocked," Sam explained. "She even sent morphine."

Callen shuddered at the mention of that painkiller. His track record with that drug wasn't particularly good and unless it was administered in conjunction with an anti-nausea drug he would become violently ill. Besides the nausea, it made him light-headed and messed with his mind. When he was hospitalized after his near fatal shooting, the doctors had found out the hard way that he and morphine was not a good combination. "Why would she do that?"

"Because it is the most effective painkiller for traumatic situations where it is keep moving or die," Sam answered. "And she packed other drugs to help you deal with the side effects."

"Why do you assume it is for me? Maybe she packed it for you." Sam raised his eyebrows at Callen who swore in Russian under his breath.

"Here," Sam said holding out some tablets and a bottle of water. "Motrin. It will help with the fever... save your breath denying you have one... and they might take a slight edge off the pain." San unscrewed the cap, handed him the pills first to pop in his mouth followed by the water to wash them down. After Callen took a few sips, he went to place the bottle of water on the ground.

"Ut-ah. Drink all of it and eat this," Sam held out an unwrapped protein bar. "All of it. Don't make me get out the satphone."

Callen knew he should be hungry and thirsty. He hadn't eat anything but a few cups of dirty water and bread crusts for three days, but his brain was so busy dealing with his pain, it didn't have a lot of time to process any other requests like hunger. He reluctantly took the bar and bit off a piece of it, chewing while Sam stared at him until he swallowed his mouthful.

"Good. Do that over and over until it is gone. I'm going to start a fire," Sam demanded as he rose from the ground.

When Sam's back was turned, Callen laid the bar on the ground and reached for his shirt. He was starting to get cold. Struggling, he finally got it in place and buttoned up.

"I would have helped if you'd asked," Sam's voice floated from across the cave where he was arranging the fuel for the fire. "Finish the food."

Callen scooped up the bar, which had only one bite out of it, took a second bite and chewed as he made his way back to the thermal blanket Sam had placed out earlier. Carefully arranging his body to cause the least amount of pain, he laid down. Shivering, he dropped the half-eaten bar on the ground and wrapped the blanket around his suddenly frigid body. He knew this was a result of his climbing fever and he wished it would stop as it hurt his injured ribs to shiver. Closing his eyes, he was unusually blessed to drift off to sleep.

Sam glanced over from his newly started fire to see his partner sacked out. He walked over and smoothly dragged his sleeping comrade across the stone floor nearer to the fire for warmth. Sam grabbed the backpack before lowering himself to the ground on the far side of the blaze where he could watch the entrance to the cave. It was fully dark now and a chill was setting in and Sam was glad for the warmth of the fire. It was giving off enough light that Sam disregard the lantern in the pack though he did pull out another protein bar and bottle of water to keep up his strength. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.