Thanks everyone for dropping in a line…
Chapter 13
Back at OPS the Following Day
"How was he when you left Hetty?" asked a concerned Sam, flanked by Deeks and Kensi.
"Oh well, Tom says he is doing very well and just needs time to allow his body to heal," explained Hetty hiding her awkwardness.
"You wouldn't keep anything from us, would you Hetty?" asked Kensi, her instincts telling her something was amiss. "You know we love Callen like a brother. You would tell us if anything was wrong?"
"Of course dear…physically he is mending and at a fast rate at that. The psychological issue is a challenge. We need tolerance and above all he needs patience which you all would agree with me, is quite a trial for Mr. Callen," she finished with a chuckle.
"Can we visit him?" asked Deeks already knowing the answer.
"No Mr. Deeks. That's not a good idea. He is so confused about what happened in Wana and I feel he is starting to trust me. I need his trust to be able to help him through this. He needs to remember who he really is. That is paramount. Now we've had our pow-wow or chinwag as you wish, it's time to get back to work. Up to the Ops centre Eric has an assignment and you all need debriefing." Hetty's phone rang and Sam stood in his place.
"Miss Lange. It's Lt Commander Westerman. How are you?" the voice direct and brief on the other end.
Hetty's eyes widened, "Oh, what a surprise Commander. How are your boys? All well I hope." Sam hadn't moved but his face tightened with concern.
"Yes thank you…they are doing well, some are still undergoing therapy for PTSD. The reason for my call. I heard about Special Agent Callen's return. That is exceptional news. How is he?" asked Westerman, showing more emotion than he should.
"Your channels of information are vast indeed. Agent Callen is back with us and doing remarkably well considering what he had to endure. But I must say your concern is appreciated," finished Hetty.
"There is another reason for the call."
"Ah pray tell."
"Speaking with the boys… on behalf of Special Agent Callen we've put forward a nomination for the Medal of Honour. His actions and disregard for his own safety notwithstanding our less than commendable attitude need to be acknowledged. I hope you and your team including Special Agent Hanna will support it, Miss Lange," explained Westerman.
It caught Hetty by surprise. But yes, he did deserve it. "That is very honourable of you and your men Lt Commander Westerman. You will have our support of course and maybe when this is all over, we can share a libation over some cold bruskies," said Hetty smiling.
"Thankyou and yes, that sounds like an excellent plan ma'am. Goodbye Miss Lange," finished Westerman.
"Goodbye Lieutenant." She flipped her phone shut and felt so proud for Callen and so smug. This was good.
Sam hadn't left her side and was mesmerized by the old woman's face, "A medal huh? G deserves it. He won't want it…but he deserves it."
"Yes, yes he does Mr. Hanna but it will not replace the hurt. That will need to be mended with love and friendship not shiny metal," she said accenting the double entente.
"I know Hetty…I know. As soon as I can, I will make it up to G. I swear it," he said putting his hand on his heart.
"Good to hear Mr. Hanna, good to hear. Now up to Ops and be with your team."
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Sam was still on the outer but the team's resentment was slowly wearing away and he found that they allowed him in more and more, they allowed him to be part of the family again. For that small mercy, Sam was grateful.
"Ok guys…this case is sketchy. There are whispers about a terrorist attack on a possible navy base. A person of interest arrived in the States two days ago. He goes by the name of Yuri Slakov," said Eric.
Nell punched a few keys and he face flashed up on the screen, "But as you can see from these various documents, Slakov is one of many aliases. This guy is good. No traces, no prints. There's not much out there on this guy. But we've only started digging. Give us a few more hours and we'll have more."
Deeks moved forward getting a closer look at the documents, "So why the connection between an eastern European dude and a terrorist attack? Strange bedfellows don't you think?"
"Yeah we thought so too. So we ran his face through the worldwide agency's database and there was a recent hit from our friends in the ISI. It shows Slakov in Karachi around the time, you and Callen were there Sam, in Pakistan. Do you remember seeing him at the compound?" asked Eric cautiously.
"No…Not many visitors came to the compound and if they did, we weren't invited to the party. We didn't see much. But I would remember a face like his?" said Sam concentrating on the display screens; his mind churning and vetting possible scenarios.
"Do you think Callen may have seen him?" Kensi asked Sam, quietly afraid of everyone's reaction.
Sam stopped and looked at Kensi, "Yeah…if he was there G would've spotted him. He was outside fixing those tanks and Humvees. He would've seen people coming and going. But more than that Raza was all over G…thought he was the best thing that had happened to his 'Warroirs of the Downtrodden'; an educated man that wanted to be part of his cause."
"Educated men are usually the most fanatical. They somehow use reason to justify their argument…most dangerous," interrupted Hetty smiling at her team.
"So Hetty do you think you could show Callen Slakov's photo or you don't' think he's up to it?" asked Deeks feeling uneasy about the possible connection.
She pondered quietly for a minute as the team held their breath, "We could try and if that falls through Mr. Beale and Miss Jones, is there anything else we have to go on?"
"Well there is a small crumb we could follow?" said Nell tentatively lifting her left eyebrow.
"And that would be…?" Hetty posed.
"Slakov is eastern European and who do we know that has a pulse on all things Babushka?" queried Nell, looking at the team smugly.
"Arkady Kolchek…man this is getting better by the minute," exclaimed Sam folding his arms in disbelief.
"Yes, that is a small crumb but still a crumb. Mr. Hanna go and have a chat with Arkady and see if he knows anything, or rather if he is willing to share," said Hetty.
Then she saw Sam's head tilt side to side whilst pursing his lips, "He and I, we don't really get along…basically he hates me."
"Really I can't see why?" mumbled Deeks earning himself a glare from Kensi and Hetty.
"Mr. Hanna this is not a popularity contest. It doesn't matter whether he likes you or not. You know each other because of Mr. Callen. Take Miss Blye. The female presence might loosen his chauvinistic tongue. Mr. Beale and Miss Jones, find Slakov and his whereabouts. Mr. Deeks with me. Move out people," demanded the petite woman.
Hetty walked out of the Ops centre, down the stairs and to her desk. Deeks followed like a naughty puppy. She took down her bag, placed it carefully over her shoulder and took out the keys to the Jag. Deeks stood quietly and watched her walk out of the building. What should I do? Follow her? he thought. Then Hetty stopped. She so enjoyed playing with Mr. Deeks. "Well we haven't got all day. Are you planning on joining me Mr. Deeks tsk tsk now."
The ride in the Jag was frightening. Deeks held on for his life as Hetty kept the revs up and the gears short around the corners and through the red lights. They arrived…safely. Deeks was shocked and surprised. Hetty was non-plussed but Deeks' emotional state was reflected by the windswept look of his hair...more frazzled than usual. His legs trembled as they found ground, "Mr. Deeks you look rather green around the gills. Fortunately we have arrived at the hospital, if you're feeling unwell." asked Hetty, locking the Jag.
Taking a deep breath, Deeks answered, "No I am good. So we're here to see Callen?"
"No I'm here to see Mr. Callen, you on the other hand Mr. Deeks will do what you do best…liaise with the hospital staff and see whether Mr. Callen has had any visitors," said Hetty as they entered the hospital.
"That includes the nurses right?" asked Deeks, not really expecting an answer.
"Oh I can see I chose the right person for this job." The sarcasm wasn't lost on Deeks who flashed a wide grin.
They arrived at Callen's door. "Well this is my stop Mr. Deeks. Please be discreet," said Hetty.
"Of course, discreet is my middle name," said Deeks and left Hetty to see Callen.
Hetty knocked and walked in finding the room surprisingly full of light. Callen was asleep propped up on several pillows looking much better than when she left him yesterday. She placed her things down and turned to see Callen stirring from his slumber. He blinked his eyes trying to focus when he heard her familiar voice, "Well hello Aziz. You are looking much better. How do you feel?"
"You came back?" he croaked, his voice still sore from disuse.
"Of course my dear boy. I meant what I said yesterday. I am here to help you," she said smiling as she moved over to him touching his arm gently.
"I want to believe you but…"
"You don't trust easily. Yes, yes I know. There aren't many people you do trust. Did you remember anymore since yesterday?"
"I tried to remember my university days, my childhood anything before I reunited with Mustafa and it is all blank…like I didn't exist. Then I kept humming that song you sang in my head all morning. When did I learn Russian?"
He looked at her, she smiled and Callen continued. "I kept hearing a name. Mustafa kept calling me CALLEN. He said it was a nickname or something. I have such a strong connection to it. Then I had flashes of a blond girl lying in a pool of blood…I remember getting shot near a beach and I remember a man telling me to hang on…IN ENGLISH. The shots kept coming and coming," Callen's voice suddenly raised a notch quivering with emotion. Her hand suddenly touched his in comfort.
" I see faces of strangers that are familiar, that I have feelings for. Then there are places I know I've never been to, horrible places, places of death and torture…what's wrong with me Hetty. Why are my thoughts so confused?" he pleaded rubbing his head.
She grabbed his hands, "I can tell you who you are and why you think you are Aziz Umar. But I am afraid you are not ready to hear the truth," she said quietly.
"The truth…I don't know what's real anymore. You need me to trust you. I will. This needs to stop …I just want to remember," Callen surrendered.
"Why do you think you are Aziz Umar?" asked Hetty encouragingly.
Callen looked at her strangely. He opened his mouth to answer but he blinked silently. "Do you know?" she prompted.
"No…I saw it on a paper with my other details," he stuttered.
"Like a dossier." He nodded affirmatively.
"Think hard about the name…Callen. Does it bring forward any images, memories?"
Callen thought hard. Hetty could see the concentration lines forming around his eyes and forehead, "A duffle bag with G and Callen, a file behind a gate or a fence." He looked up at her, "An explosion…the black man again…the name Amy…Help me Hetty please…help me piece together all these thoughts." He was crying in desperation for help and who was she to deny him anymore. She got up and poured him a glass of water.
"Here drink this. I will tell you everything you want to know within my power. We will speak English because my Pashto is very rusty," said Hetty lightly.
"I don't speak English," coldly and rather detached. She was hoping she wasn't pushing him too hard.
"You understand it and you speak it, as you understand and speak French, Polish, German, Russian and many other languages, non e` vero Signore Callen?" she switched to Italian.
"Si`, hai ragione," he stopped amazed at his answer. He looked at her incredulous and continued, "Yes you're right…Ja, du hast Recht…Hai anata wa tadashī…." He finished still looking at her. She was amazed to see a slight upward tilt of his lips.
"Are you pleased with yourself and is that a smile?" she asked in English grinning herself.
"Maybe. If you're right about this, maybe you're right about everything else," responded Callen in English.
"You are a very practical pragmatic man. The only way to persuade you is to provide you with proof." Hetty saw Callen yawn as he fought against the taxing weariness. "It seems I have overstayed my welcome. You are tired and I need to get back to work." She attempted to leave when his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.
"Don't. I want to know more. You said you'd tell me more," he demanded.
"No. We have made some wonderful progress today. You need your rest and I need to get back to work." She patted his hand and placed it on the bed gently.
"You will come tomorrow?" he asked, hoping the answer to be affirmative.
"Yes I will." She grabbed her handbag and found the reason for her visit. "Oh." She stopped abruptly taking out the photo. "Aziz, I forgot I have something to show you. I need your help."
"My help?"
She held out the photo. Callen's hand gently grasped it and looked at it with curiosity. "I know this man."
"Who is he?" asked Hetty hoping for more information than Eric and Nell and gathered.
"I saw him talking to Raza at the compound. He seemed to take orders from him. Raza ordered him to kill two of his lieutenants. Then I saw him once more at the compound accompany a shipment of weapons," finished Callen looking at Hetty; his face showing concern and apprehension.
"Do you know his name?" asked Hetty, hoping against hope.
Callen ignored her question and seemed to be lost in a memory far far away. Hetty became very curious and concerned. "When I saw him the first time I thought he looked familiar, someone I had seen during a covert mission in the Ukraine several years ago overseeing the smuggling of arms for a man or a group called Koba. But now I am certain. Raza called him Misha." Suddenly he was back to the present. "What's going on?" asked Callen suddenly feeling the intrinsic need to join the investigation.
"We will talk tomorrow. Thank you…try and remember your time in the Ukraine and dwell on how easy that memory was." She nodded her head smiling and walked out leaving a more confused Callen. His eyes followed her. He was tired…so tired all the time but his nature was driving him to know more. This was in his blood. He could feel it, something wasn't right. He wasn't Aziz a mechanical engineer. Of that he was certain now. But the mystery still remained. Who was he? The name Callen. It felt right, it felt familiar, it felt comfortable. Cradled in that thought Callen drifted off to sleep.
Hetty was pleased very pleased at the progress Callen was making. He was extraordinary. His instincts for survival and his need to know were remarkable. He was on his way home. Deeks was waiting for her outside and was shocked to see a beaming Hetty. "Wow I take it your visit with Callen went well," said Deeks standing on his tip toes trying to get a glimpse of Callen through the door window. "He's good isn't he?"
"Mr. Deeks, Mr. Callen is improving better than I would've hoped," said Hetty. "How did your own mission go?"
"Well Trinny from Springvale Missouri, tall, red-head puzzling sense of humour said Callen had a quiet night and no visitors; Marsha from Little Rock, Aquarius, likes long walks on the beach and tequila said the same, quiet night and no visitors however Mark, short dumpy and a Browncoat remembers seeing a tall stocky man with white hair walking down the corridor from Callen's room in the early hours of the morning. He couldn't be certain if he was here for Callen. But maybe Eric could scan the surveillance cameras?" said Deeks folding a piece of paper. Hetty gave him a reproaching look, "Oh…Marsha is new to town so I thought I'd do my civic duty." He looked abashed.
"Hmmmm. We will get Eric on that promptly. A good job Mr. Deeks. Now let's go." Deeks wanted to ask what had happened with Callen but Hetty closed the conversation. He'd wait. She was in a good mood so things may have gone better than expected.
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"Boris answer the door…BORIS!" But Boris was nowhere to be found. "Always me. Why do I bother having help?" Arkady grumbled as he trudged down the hallway from his study to the front door opening it he stood like a gaping fish, "Oh like my day could not get worse."
"Hello to you too Arkady. We gonna stand here all day or are you gonna let us in. We've got a few questions," forced an annoyed Sam.
"Ok, ok…come in only because you are a friend of Callen." His eyes find Kensi, "Oh the beauty and the beast. Agent Blye yes? You are more beautiful than last time I saw you," he said, dripping with sleazy slime.
"That's right, I had a gun to your head," she said smiling.
"Oh there's no need for ill feelings. What do you want Agent Hanna. I am a very busy man," said Arkady not inviting the agents in but keeping them in the atrium.
Sam stoped and looked around. Kensi did the same. Arkady looked offended. "What? My décor does not suit your sensibilities? Not ghetto enough for you," he flashed a sickly smile.
Sam stared hard as his veins bulged in his neck. Kensi looked from Arkady to Sam, ready to spring between these two bulls. But Sam kept his cool. Nothing could jeopardise this investigation. He took a breath and cranked his neck. "No, I'm waiting for the question," said a stern Sam. Kensi smiled catching on.
"What question? Please Agent Hanna I am busy, enough with the mysterious hocus-pocus. What do you want? said Arkady losing his patience.
Sam looked at him seriously and ignored the jibe. This wasn't going to get ugly. This was about the case and Callen and that's how it was going to stay. "You haven't asked me about Callen." Arkady looked like the little boy who got sprung with his hand in the cookie jar. "You know where Callen is, that's why you didn't ask, which means you know something we need to know."
"I know nothing about Callen," said Arkady walking back and opening the door, "please you need to go now."
Sam didn't have the patience Callen did with Arkady. They danced around each other like primadonnas of the Bolshoi, trading innuendos and information. Sam wanted to know what Arkady was being so furtive about. Sam stepped forwards and slammed the door shut. "You know something Arkady. You tell us or we'll take you in. How will that look to your 'people'?"
Arkady played the fool but he wasn't one. He would've been dead long ago. "Follow me." He led them to the study, "Sit I would offer you some Vodka but I know you're on duty. Now, the destruction of Raza's camp may not have made Entertainment Tonight but it made great waves in the arms trading world. When I heard what had happened, and I heard you Agent Hanna were one of the soldiers rescued, I knew Callen must have been involved. I have my sources."
Kensi spoke up, "So it was you visiting him in hospital."
"So much for discretion…yes. I wanted to see Callen with my own eyes. I heard he was injured and now so sick. We've been through a great deal and whether you believe it or not, he is like a brother to me. I needed to make sure he was safe," said a contrite Arkady.
"Why, is he in danger?" asked Sam moving forward on his chair dismissing the Arkady's reference to Callen's health.
"I don't know. It depends. Why did you come Agent Hanna?" His manner was curt and sombre.
"This man…" Sam hands Arkady the photo and waits for his reaction. Sam is not disappointed. His face blanches, "…has entered the US as Yuri Slakov at the same time we discovered a possible terrorist attack on a naval place of interest. We are concerned about the connection Arkady, as should you. Callen remembers Slakov from the compound but also identified him as Misha from when he worked a covert mission in the Ukraine several years back. He was selling arms for something or someone called Koba."
"Yuri Slakov is Mikhail Brenko ex-FSB. He uses his contacts in the FSB, the CIA, ISI every agency to buy, trade and sell arms. He hires himself out to people with the fattest wallets," explained Arkady.
"So what was he doing with Raza? He's a nobody?" said Kensi.
"That worries me. Raza'a group isn't the only one. Someone is sponsoring small terrorist groups like Raza's and Mikhail is the gofer," finished Arkady.
"Why? To what end?" asked Kensi again.
"That is what you get paid for, mon chere`. You need to join the dots and then maybe you get the prize," said Arkady smiling sarcastically. Kensi glared at him. She didn't like the nature of the comment.
"Ok…what do you know about Koba?" pressed Sam glaring at the large Russian.
"Niet…no one knows anything about Koba. It's a name and a presence that floats around like a big black cloud. Back in the day, we didn't know if it was a man or a company and we are still in the dark. If you find out, please extend me the courtesy and let me know. Don't concern yourself about Koba. Focus on Mikhail, follow him and he will lead you to the big fish. Now I think we are done," said Arkady rising from his chair.
Sam nodded to Kensi. Notwithstanding the obvious hostility from both parties, Sam was grateful. He extended his hand. Arkeday stopped and his eyes shot open, "An olive branch, Agent Hanna?"
"Let's start with a simple thank you." The two men shook hands.
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