Ok…don't get angry just let me apologise…I am so very sorry for the delay in updating. I didn't expect my world to be turned on me when I started publishing the story. Things have finally started to get back to normal and I am anxious to finish this story. Hope it still holds some interest :?

Chapter 10

Mustafa sat next to his injured friend and placed a hand on his brow. The fever hadn't abated and Callen was waning. There were moments of lucidity then moments of sheer confusion where he'd mumble in Russian, Pashto, French and another languages he didn't understand. Finally after sitting with Callen for hours it seemed, Callen quieted down and seemed to be resting. Mustafa needed that phone and this seemed like the perfect time. He remembered the knapsack Callen had asked him to keep safe. He had placed it in an underground safe he had under his sink where he kept his valuables. He pulled off the wooden cover to access a cavity that he nestled into. He fumbled for the handle and combination lock. He slowly and carefully turned the dial left and then right, counting the clicks.

Finally having imputed the combination, he turned the handle and felt around for the knapsack. Eureka! He pulled it out, and replaced order and security to the safe. He sat on the ground, glancing for a moment over to where Callen seemed to be resting, and opened it up. There wasn't much, as he expected: a change of clothing, some toiletries, two passports, some money in various middle eastern currencies and what he was hoping for…the phone. He stood up and moved closer to the window to make use of the sunshine. He turned it on and it took a moment to power up. Everything was working well. He moved closer to Callen and he was still sleeping. He opened the phone log and noticed there was only one number dialed, so he entered it in.

It rang…and rang… and rang…

"Hello…" said a very hesitant Mustafa.

"Who is this?" answered Hetty, low and curt, noticing the middle eastern accent.

"I am a friend of Callen," said Mustafa hoping he had reached the right people.

"Callen…you must have the wrong number, good..," continued Hetty feigning to cut him off.

"No please…please. Do not hang up. Please listen, I am Mustafa Kadar ISI, an old friend of Callen's. I'm taking a great risk contacting you. Please he needs help," he pleaded.

The room was silent. Still. Tense.

"Mr. Kadar, thank the gods…I am Miss Lange. Sorry about my response but I needed to be sure. We know about you and we know you are a friend. Is Mr. Callen alive?" asked Hetty closing her eyes readying herself for the answer.

Still the room was quiet.

"Yes barely. He is badly injured. I have don't have the means to treat him properly. I have tried to help him but he needs hospitalization. I cannot risk it here…for his safety and my own. If the authorities find him, they will kill him and me if they suspect he is a terrorist, or worst if they find out who he really is. He needs to leave this place…Please!" said Mustafa, almost desperate.

"Yes, believe me I understand the urgency. But we will need to be very discrete considering the diplomatic problems that might arise. But I'm afraid coming to Wana may pose a danger to you and your family if certain parties find out. Can he travel?" asked Hetty as Eric started uploading a very detailed physical map of Pakistan and their safe zones.

"I understand the dangers Miss Lange but there is no other way. Callen can be moved but I cannot guarantee he'll be alive when we get there," answered Mustafa looking anywhere but at Callen.

"We will need to take that risk…there is a place an hour's drive due west...secure and under the radar. I will send you the coordinates and our ETA. We will have transport waiting. Mr Kadar…oh and thank you," said Hetty relieved.

"Don't thank me yet Miss Lange." Mustafa was pleased that he had finally procured the help for his friend. He attached the phone to his pants' belt and took a step outside. Caring for Callen 24/7 had been hard. He was physically and emotionally exhausted. He felt the sun on his face and rejoiced for the way everything was falling into place.

Meanwhile, Callen had heard Mustafa step outside and he had heard everything. Knowing he was alone, he pried opened his feverish eyes. He looked around and his surrounds seemed so alien. Then he tried to remember. His head was pounding and throbbing. His memories were vague. Documents kept flashing in his line of vision. Suddenly he remembered his name Aziz Umar and he remembered attending University. He remembered he was an engineer, he remembered a camp, hostages and armed men…then he was attacked by flashes of light, explosions, gunfire causing shooting pain to assault his head as he groaned in pain. He tried to breathe it away. It subsided slightly. Then he remembered Mustafa's face…his old friend and it calmed his anxious state. But something was not right. There were other faces that he caught glimpses of…faces he couldn't place, faces of strangers. He needed to keep it together because for some reason his simple life seemed so complicated and so foreign.

He tried hard to recall what he had heard from Mustafa…

…Kadar ISI…

…authorities find him…they will kill him…

…I can't guarantee he'll be alive when we get there…

…a danger to you…

Terror overwhelmed him. His friend that he'd known all his life was in the ISI and now Mustafa was going to kill him…why? Callen knew one thing and one thing only; he needed to run, he needed to get away. But he just couldn't. Everything hurt and pain was his taunting enemy. The pain scrambled his rational thoughts. He couldn't think straight and so many thoughts were like pieces of a jigsaw. He tried to hold on to what he had rationalized but slowly he started to weaken and those ideas disintegrated, clouds started to darken reality and he drifted off.

Mustafa received the information and looked over at his friend, who hadn't stirred. Callen had 6 hours before he'd be on his way home.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

At OPS

The conversation with Mustafa had left them all shell-shocked. They had all thought Callen dead. Now, Mustafa, the man they had been searching for had contacted them and informed them that Callen was alive. ALIVE!

Deeks was the first one to break the silence, "I told you…what did I tell you. I knew he had a plan…it's Callen…he's alive." His face was beaming as he jumped around towards Kensi and hugged her ferociously.

She smiled notwithstanding the dangers and the uncertainties still ahead, and she let herself be carried away with Deeks' enthusiasm. Eric and Nell beamed with joy as they looked around at Hetty, who had sat down breathing deeply and donning a satisfied smile. When Hetty was happy, they all were. Then all eyes went to Sam.

He looked at each team member's face; their relief, their joy, their hope and their excitement. They hadn't given up. That's the moment the big man crumbled. The news slashed at his very being. He turned to his team with a sense of shame and reluctance. "I gave up on Callen…you all didn't. I should've known you'd keep on looking until you found him. You kept the faith. But how is G alive? I saw him die," Sam spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

"Mr. Hanna, you should be well accustomed to your partner's resurrection habits. Mr. Callen managed to help himself as he has done so many times before. We should have realized this before giving up hope. There is still so much that needs to be done before Mr. Callen comes home. We can't delay. Time is of the essence. I'll organize the transport and deal with the diplomatic side of the S&R. Miss Blye and Mr. Deeks, be ready to leave within the hour. A fully stocked medic team and a small group of Paratroopers will accompany you," explained Hetty as her petite frame proceeded to leave the OPS room.

"I want to go," interrupted Sam. Hetty froze. All eyes fell on Hetty. She turned slowly, obviously thinking hard about Sam's request.

"I somehow think Mr. Hanna, it might not be a good idea," she stated bluntly, eyes focused on Sam. She had tried to phrase her thoughts carefully, trying to mask her true feelings on the matter. There was no telling Callen's reaction in seeing Sam, his partner and brother, the man who left him behind.

"I know what you're thinking. But I need to do this for G. I need to make it up to him…I need to bring him home," said Sam shifting his stance awkwardly from left to right. When had it ever been this uncomfortable in the OPS room with his team? The answer was staring him in the face…the day he left them and the day he left Callen.

It was always a brave, or stupid man who would take on Sam, but Deeks felt he owed it to Callen, "Just explain again, who are you doing this for?" Sam turned to face Deeks. He pulled himself straight and squared his shoulders.

"Yeah, that whole thing you got happening Sam…the whole Rottweiler attack mode you summon, ain't workin' on me anymore. Man, the way I see it, coming with us to bring Callen home is just a way of appeasing your conscience, you know. This isn't about Callen…" finished Deeks having stepped closer to a fuming Sam. Hetty watched stunned and impressed. Deeks had grown a few after working with Callen in Sam's absence, and she was pleased. Kensi was on alert, ready to pounce on the boys if they started their playground rumble. But they would all be disappointed.

Sam took a deep breath, lowered his shoulders and nodded at Deeks, "Since when did you become so insightful?"

"Working beside Callen does that to you or have you forgotten…" smirked Deeks whilst Kensi was shaking her head and mouthing stop it Deeks.

"Yeah…I get it. Maybe it is about easing my conscience but it's also about saving Callen…repaying a debt and asking for forgiveness," spoke Sam, his voice breaking with emotion yet it was strong and undisputable. That was enough dealing with Deeks. He turned to his former boss pleadingly, "Hetty?" After all, it was her decision.

"Mr. Deeks? I think Mr. Hanna has answered you concerns. Mr. Hanna you may accompany Miss Blye and Mr. Deeks. I think you will be a very useful resource, however Miss Blye you will be heading the search and rescue task force. Everyone answers to you. Like I said before, wheels up in an hour."

The boys had surrendered. Sam was coming, Kensi was in charge and Deeks didn't want to cause any trouble. He'd do what he was told. This was about bringing Callen home. Kensi looked around quite taken by the faith and responsibility entrusted to her. She felt rather proud. She wouldn't let Callen down…she just couldn't. She stood and turned to Sam and Deeks, "Guys get suited up. Protocol Golden Fleece." Sam and Deeks nodded and left. Then she turned her attention to Eric and Nell.

Nell looked at Kensi, biting the inside of her cheeks and smirking, "Well well…leave it to the females to be called when maturity, organization skills and responsibility are needed."

Eric scoffed, "Yeah right…Hetty just didn't want WWIII and who better to keep the boys in check."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Kensi hitting Eric over the head. It only made him laugh.

"Anyway…you guys need to be on the ball with this, more than ever before. Your eyes will need to have ESP…we need heads up before we need heads up. We won't be in Kansas anymore," said Kensi, her demeanor showing a little trepidation.

Nell picked up on it and spoke to Kensi quietly, "You know, Sam being involved is going to be difficult especially when you don't know how Callen will react, but on the other hand he has some local knowledge and he does have more experience than you or Deeks."

"Yeah I know. Look everything will be ok…as long as we get him home."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Although his slumber had been interrupted by nightmares and all sorts of strange imaginings, Callen had slept through the pounding pain. His body had found much needed rest. Mustafa had hovered over Callen, counting the hours and the minutes until they could embark on his journey home. Suddenly the time had arrived for Mustafa to get Callen to eat something and prepare him for the hour's drive. He gently and carefully sat on the edge of the bed, minding Callen's injuries, and started to call him back to consciousness. "Callen. Callen, you need to wake now. Callen"

There was no response.

Mustafa reached over to check his pulse, it was weak but it was steady. He tapped Callen's cheek lightly, "Callen…time to wake, friend."

Callen's heavy eyelids started to flutter. "That's it my friend…wake up now because we have a big journey ahead."

Callen was drawn by Mustafa's voice as he regained consciousness, "Mustafa?" The voice was small, croaky and pained.

"Shhh…you don't need to talk. You are still very ill Callen. I will give you something for the pain and something to ensure fortitude during our travel," said a relieved Mustafa. He pushed himself up to go to the kitchen area when Callen touched his hand. "What is it Callen?"

Callen felt lost and confused. His eyes welled up as he choked on his words.

"I know you're in pain. But let me help."

Callen shook his head and swallowed harshly causing him to gasp for air.

"Hey take it easy. Whatever you need to say to me, it can wait until you are stronger, yes?"

Again Callen shook his head and rolled slightly to his uninjured side. He looked at Mustafa. This time his cheeks were tear-streaked.

"Callen, what's wrong, dear friend?"

Callen stared at Mustafa, trying in vain to dispel his fears by seeking the answers in his friend's visage. He saw kind familiar eyes and Callen had no choice. He took a deep breath, as deep as his battered body would allow and spoke with labored breaths, "Mustafa…I'm Aziz…why do you persist…with Callen? Who is Callen? I'm Aziz Umar."

Mustafa froze; his revelation shattering his crumbling version of happy-ever-after.

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