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Chapter 11

Mustafa's eyes widened as he stared at Callen. It was an absent stare, as time seemed to stand still. Mustafa's lungs were straining, begging him to release the breath he had been holding but his eyes held their startled horrified gaze until he heard Callen's plea.

"Mus...tafa?" croaked Callen, as he extended his tortured hand toward Mustafa.

The ISI agent jumped as if given a jolt of electricity. This time he looked at Callen then consciously and tenderly touched Callen's forehead. His thoughts were running amuck. However there was one single thought that plagued his confused mind; he needed to keep Callen calm at all cost. There was only one option and it was one he hated…lying to Callen also meant saving his life. So he decided to play along with Callen's delusion. What else was he to do? Mustafa inhaled deeply and he needed to come up with something plausible. He gave Callen a warm reassuring smile, "Sorry my friend…Callen is a term of affection. That's all. Nothing else."

Callen seemed to believe him. He didn't argue but relaxed the tension he was holding in his shoulders as he slumped onto his pillow, his eyes never leaving Mustafa's. Whilst Mustafa had Callen's attention he continued, "Aziz, you are sick and you need medical help that I can't provide. I have made arrangements. But we need to travel. Do you feel up to it?"

Callen's eyes would not stay open as he floated through the undulating waves of consciousness. The memory of Mustafa's phone conversation was fragmenting and he still held on tightly to the idea that he'd been betrayed. He wasn't fearful anymore; he just accepted that this was the end. He couldn't run because his body was just too broken. So he gave into the inevitable. He started to drift when he felt Mustafa gently shake him, "Aziz? Did you hear me?

Callen's struggled to stay awake, "Yes…I trust you to do the right thing Mustafa. My life….is…in…your…hands." His eyes closed and Callen fell into unconsciousness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later

The air transport touched down on a makeshift airstrip an hour or so outside Wana. The agents exchanged looks of anticipation and fear. Sam had been silent the entire trip, and much to Kensi's surprise, so had Deeks. Although, the annoyingly fleeting glances between the two males didn't go unnoticed by Kensi. Regardless of the silent tug-o-war, Kensi had welcomed the peace and quiet for she knew that things were going to change very soon and very quickly.

"So we're here?" said Deeks unclipping his harness and looking out the window. "Here is basically in the middle of nowhere. And there is sand and dirt and more sand and more dirt and I forgot my sunscreen…"

"Enough," blasted Sam, then lowering his voice and taming his anxiety, "Enough Deeks…enough."

Deeks froze at the way Sam had snapped at him. The big man was usually so restrained and so in control. He just didn't snap. But the memories of his capture, the memories of the past and now, having to face his partner, the brother he left behind for dead, was more than any man could handle. It dawned on Deeks that Sam was breaking. There were to be no more smart-arse remarks and there would be no more back chatting. They wouldn't help. This was serious and Deeks got that.

Kensi looked intensely at both men. She took a moment to connect with Sam and Deeks, "Are we good? Are you both able to see this through or does someone need to stay in the car?" asked Kensi, her tone direct, menacing and laden with authority. Deeks nodded followed by Sam. "We're good. Now we wait…hopefully not for long."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It hadn't been an easy task getting Callen into the back of the Landcruiser but Mustafa had managed being extremely careful of Callen's wounds. He had constructed a bed with blankets on which Callen now lay unconscious. Mustafa had water, the satellite phone and a tank full of fuel. He had entered the coordinates into his GPS. The meeting place was in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't familiar with the place but he knew the area; desolate and barren. He started the car, the engine roared to life and he looked over his shoulder to reassure himself that he was in fact doing the right thing. He was. Callen needed help.

The road was rough, bumpy and dusty. It was scattered with potholes created by the fighting that had been raging the countryside for centuries. He tried his best to avoid them, but most of the times it was only a matter of avoiding the larger ones. His rear view mirror was angled so he could keep his eyes on Callen. He looked up and saw him stirring. That single moment Mustafa took his eyes off the road, the car hit a pothole, sending a sudden reminder to keep his eyes on the road. The impact caused Callen to wake and groan in agony. Mustafa looked at Callen again and he saw his friend struggling with his pain, "Little further Aziz…little further." Callen ignored his friend's plea as the pain was encompassing and the fever raging. Eyes back on the road praying and hoping it wasn't much further. Before the GPS registered the destination, Mustafa saw the plane and he was relieved.

He maneuvered the car closer to the plane and saw three people disembark. They stood alert. Turning off the car he got out leaving the door open and stood next to the bonnet unsure how to proceed. The raven haired beauty walked towards him cautiously as the two men stood guard. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful. They met half way. She looked him over apprehensively as he spoke, "I am Mustafa Kadar."

Kensi was taken back by this former ISI agent. He was nothing at all like she had imagined; he was so unassuming and so average. "Yes Mr. Kadar. I'm Special Agent Kensi Blye and these are my associates. Where is Callen?"

A look of regret and sadness swept over Mustafa's face. Kensi saw the change and became alarmed. "Mr. Kadar, is he…?" she stopped afraid to utter the word dead.

"No, no, no," quickly corrected Mustafa, seeing her distressed state. "Are your associates friends of Callen?"

"Yes…" answered Kensi, wondering where the questioning was going.

"Call them over…please." Kensi motioned to Deeks and Sam. "Mr. Kadar, this is Agent Deeks and Special Agent Hanna…colleagues and friends." Both men nodded and Mustafa greeted them.

"What's the hold up? Where's G?" asked Sam, anxiously looking over to the car.

"Before you speak to Callen you must know something, something important. He does not remember himself as G. Callen. He thinks he is…Aziz Umar. He believes everything that was in the alias dossier to the last detail. Do you understand what that means?" explained Mustafa.

"Callen thinks he's one of them. He'll think you're betraying him by handing him over to us…western dogs," said Sam cringing at the ironic turn of events.

"Yes," said Mustafa apologetically, "I tried all I could," looking back at his ailing friend. "I don't know if it's a symptom of the fever or there is head trauma or something else entirely…I tried my best."

Kensi saw the pain and despair in Mustafa's face. She moved closer to him and gently touched his arm, drawing his attention, "Mustafa, you have nothing to be sorry for. If it hadn't been for you, Callen would have died. We would have lost him. You saved him and we owe you, whatever the outcome."

Mustafa nodded, "I am humbled by your words Agent Blye. I have brought him so far and now I hand him over to you. Take care of him. He is a good, good man…a brother to me. Come." He led them over to the rear of the 4WD and opened the doors.

Sam stood frozen and distant at the sight of his friend; so broken, so hurt. Deeks instinctively jumped into the back and his fingers went straight to the carotid artery, then to his forehead. His face frowned as he turned to Kensi, "He's alive."

"Ok, ok…Sam call the medics," cried out Kensi as she hopped in next to Deeks who had already snaked his arms under Callen's armpits. Callen groaned.

"Be careful with his back. There are many wounds," hollered an anxious Mustafa resisting the urge to help.

"Ok…I got it. Kensi where are the medics?" asked Deeks straining under Callen's inert weight. "He's heavier than he looks"

"It's the donuts," she dared to smile remembering fondly Callen's obsession for donuts, bacon and tootsie pops. Looking back she didn't see the medics. Then she looked over to Sam again and yelled, "Sam…Special Agent Hanna, snap out of it and call the medics. Deal with your crap later. SAM!"

Suddenly Sam awoke from his trance and shook the nasty morbid thoughts from his head, "Yeah…sorry."

It all happened in a blur, faster than he had imagined. Callen was in the plane and the medics buzzing around him. He had not woken and he had not stirred; something that troubled those around him. Sam and Deeks had settled themselves into the plane after thanking and fare welling Mustafa. Kensi however lingered a moment whilst the engines roared to life.

"Thank you Mustafa…is there any way we can notify you of Callen's status?" she asked sympathetically.

"I still have the phone. That will be the best way. Take care of him and Agent Blye, tell him I didn't betray him," he answered. Kensi could see the affection this man had for Callen and she'd do everything in her power to keep her promise.

She shook his hand, "I will. I promise."

Xxxxxxxx

The ascent was quick and once altitude had been reached, everyone unbuckled themselves and started to move around in the cargo hold. The medics reprised their care of Callen, when one spoke up, "Agent Blye, did your man say anything else about Agent Callen's injuries?"

"Dr. Lowe isn't it?" asked Kensi. The medic nodded. "No…why?"

"We're having difficulty stabilizing him. Is anything from his medical history that is missing from his records?" asked the medic drawing more blood from Callen.

Kensi turned to Sam. After all no one knew him better. "Sam?"

"No not that I can think of. G never shared things like that," replied Sam moving closer to his partner. What's going on with you G? thought Sam.

"Hey Kens, before he left, Callen was acting a bit off," yelled out Deeks fiddling with the backpacks.

The medic huffed, "That's really helpful."

Ignoring the sarcastic reply, Sam moved closer to Callen's prone figure. They had placed him face down with his back and legs exposed. Sam's eyes started to scan the damage. It was a mess. He had caused this. Sam left Callen behind as he was shot, as Callen was propelled forward from the explosion and as Callen took hit after hit from the flying and unforgiving shrapnel. He pulled up a stool and sat opposite Callen's face. All he could do was stare as his partner struggled to stay alive. "Hey G…you're going home man. I am sorry and I am going to do everything in power to fix this, to fix us G," whispered Sam holding onto Callen's arm.

Callen's arm twitched.

Sam gripped it tighter, "Callen! G! Wake up man."

Hearing Sam call Callen by his name, Kensi turned around, "Sam…remember what Mustafa said…it's Aziz Umar…only Aziz. We can't risk anything else going wrong."

Callen drifted on the boundaries of consciousness. He heard voices and noises but one particular made him fight through the pain for consciousness…Callen. Mustafa using that word again, he thought. He fought harder until he found the strength to pry open his eyes. Sam looked up at the medic, "He's coming to." They all gathered.

"Hey Aziz…you're safe. We're taking you to the hospital," smiled Kensi, trying to keep her heart from bursting out of her chest.

But Callen's eyes scanned them carefully without recognition. Then stopped at Sam; ignoring the medics, ignoring Kensi and ignoring Deeks, Callen's accusing eyes focused on Sam. He became agitated and his heart rate increased. As he struggled to free himself and distance himself from Sam, he forced his voice to speak in pashto, "western…scum…flith".

The medic didn't waste time and injected something into Callen's IV. Slowly they noticed Callen relax and his eyes close not before noticing a tear fall onto the pillow. Kensi looked at her fellow agents, "What was that?"

"He reacted to me Kensi. He blames me," said a sullen Sam.

A startled Deeks put his hand on Sam's shoulder, "No man, it was more than that. Anybody speak the language that sprouted from his mouth?" Deeks asked rhetorically, not really expecting an answer.

When the younger medic answered, "I'm a bit rusty but it was Pashto…something on the lines of traitor, scum and filth." That left the agents agog.

"Ok and the prize goes to the Doc. But why would he say that?" asked Deeks.

Sam gently removed himself from Callen's side and said moving away, "He remembers me from the compound…not as Sam but as an American soldier…the enemy."

"Crap!" uttered Deeks totally caught unawares.

Kensi turned to Dr. Lowe, "What happened?"

Dr. Lowe put the syringe in the disposal bin and checked Callen's stats again. Satisfied they were returning to the inconsistent normal, he turned to the agents, "Could be a variety of things…a head injury, PTSD, Dissociative Personality Disorder, Identitiy Displacement Disorder…could be anything unless. I need thr right equipment, to run the appropriate tests so I can make a diagnosis. I need for him to remain calm and I need him to rest, agents. I suggest we keep Agent Hanna far from Aziz and we play in his world. I'll keep Dr. Kadem close in case he regains consciousness…waking to his mother tongue will help."

The stunned look on their faces said it all. Maybe Callen was lost to them forever…

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