Operation Formosa

Disclaimer: NCISLA characters belong to Shane Brennan. All original characters and this story are mine.

Chapter 7

Callen left Bronte and the children with Hetty and Sam while he headed back to the mission to find a clue to where Mick and Melissa had been taken to, and by whom. Sam had chatted with him over his own conversations with Hetty and Bronte, but they still had nothing to help them find them. He entered the mission and climbed the stairs. He found Nell and Eric busy in Ops and Granger sitting at Hetty's desk, seeing Bronte was now in witness protection alongside Max and the Nassir children. "Nell. I need your help on piecing things together. Can we work downstairs?"

Nell nodded and followed Callen to a quiet corner in the alcove.

"Have you crossed checked all the staff onboard USS Arlington to ensure that no one from when Mick was assigned to the ship with Bronte?"

"It was an extensive list as you know. But Vance had the crew vetted to ensure that Mick's true identity wouldn't be burned during this op. Eric and I have placed their facials on our systems to see if any faces come up or have been found travelling through LAX. So far we have nothing."

Callen paced the floor behind her and stopped. "What about the New York case. Hetty mentioned to Sam that Mick was the one who dropped everything to be with Bronte after the shooting. Have you looked into the New York operation that Greg worked on?"

Nell took a deep breath in and opened up a file that had Callen knit his brows together. "Greg was undercover for three months with the Formosa Cartel. These are the images he'd placed on a thumb drive from those three months." Nell continued to type away and brought up another file. "This one is locked and it appears that not even Eric can crack it open." She looked intently at him. "We need the person with the key."

"Eric can break the internet. Surely he can break into this file?" He knew that Eric was one of the best at what he did, which is why Hetty had him on their team.

Nell shook her head. "He's tried. I've tried. It's well protected."

"Is it one of our files, or from the DEA?"

"Ours."

"Can you trace a name to who has the key to the file?"

Callen watched Nell enter the search. He shook his head in frustration.

"Michael Nassir. Is he the only one with access to this file? What about Vance, can he tell us if there is anyone else who has the key?"

"I've tried. Vance is in a meeting and he hasn't returned my call yet."

"He realises that this file might have the answers to finding Mick and his wife, doesn't he?" It was unusual for their director to be unavailable at a time like this one.

"Did Mick create the document?"

Nell nodded.

"Anyone else accessed it?"

Nell quirked up her right brow and began typing away on the keyboard. "Gibbs. He's the only other one."

"Someone say my name?" Relief crossed over Callen's face upon hearing his friend's voice.

"Talk about timing. We need your help." Callen stepped back and allowed Gibbs to move in closer to the computer. "Apparently you and Mick are the only two who have access to this file."

Gibbs furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I can't get you in. I'm sorry, but not this file."

"But you've accessed it before."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs sighed heavily. He looked to DiNozzo and pondered before turning back to Callen. "Where's Bronte?"

"At a safe house with Max and Mick's kids. Why?" Callen knew that look and didn't like what it usually meant. But they were urgently trying to find Mick and Melissa before they were killed. If they hadn't been already.

"Good." He turned to Nell. "Can you take DiNozzo upstairs and see if he can help you find Mick and Melissa." He turned back to Callen and scanned around them. He waited till they were alone before he typed on the keyboard. "I am only showing you this because of the situation. But you cannot mention this to anyone, especially Bronte."

Callen furrowed his brow and took in a deep breath. What was Mick and Gibbs hiding from Bronte? Callen's eyes widened as he read the report that Mick had written up back in October of nineteen, ninety-nine. It was when he and Bronte had been based in San Francisco and had been updated twenty months ago, after Greg and Carrie had been killed. "She knows nothing of this?" Callen felt the anger surge through his body at an alarming rate.

"No. Mick only told me for back up, incase anything ever happened to him. But he's tried his hardest to protect her from this." Gibbs shook his head.

"He'll die for her, you know that, don't you? He's never stopped caring about her. They've been thick as thieves since the academy."

"Before today, I thought that they were strangers. It's been a hell of a day so far in all that we've found out. To find photos in Mick's house of the two of them with a boy was a shock." Callen ran his hand over his face, feeling the effects of this case.

"It was too painful for her to talk about it. Mick was the one who told me about Joshua. But even Bronte doesn't know about any of this." They looked back at the documents and DNA test he'd had done on their son. Negative match to Mick, but a positive match to another man.

The name made Callen livid. "How come she has no knowledge of this, when this happened to her?"

"She was unconscious when Mick found her. This monster, he did this to her when she was knocked out from the drugs in her system. She was lucky to have survived it. It almost broke Mick. But he rescued her and took her home. When she came to, she had no memory of her time in captivity and thought that Mick was the father."

"So are you telling me, that Greg and Carrie weren't killed because he had been burned undercover?" Callen couldn't believe what Gibbs was showing him. Images of a drugged out and battered Bronte appeared up on the screen. The evidence was there, but locked away to protect her. If she had no memory of it, there was no way that either Mick or Gibbs was going to tell her.

"Yes." Gibbs heaved out his breath and saw the pain in Callen's eyes. He'd seen the same look in Mick's and he knew that Callen would do anything to protect her. But now, with Mick and Melissa's lives hanging in the balance, he wasn't sure if he could continue to protect Bronte from the truth.

"Does Hetty know anything about this?"

Gibbs shook his head. "We daren't tell her."

Abandoned building in Montebello, Los Angeles

Michael Nassir's head pounded as he pried his eyes opened and took in his surroundings. It was dark with a stream of light coming in from a small window high up the wall behind him. It provided him enough light to see around him and to find his wife. His memory was sketchy but he remembered the men enter their bedroom and drag Melissa out of the bed. She was screaming and he tried to fight them off. Then everything went blank. He turned to his left and saw the outline of her sleeping form. He wasn't sure if she was conscious and had fallen asleep or if she had been knocked out like he had been or if they had drugged her. Fear for her safety grew within him, he knew who they were. He'd gone deep undercover for the past four months for justice, from the deaths of Greg and Carrie. But he knew that there was far more involved in this than just the drugs. He'd tried for years to keep it hidden from Bronte the truth of what went down back in San Francisco, in October of nineteen, ninety-nine.

Anger surged through him, as he realised that it had come back to haunt him. He'd failed in ensuring that Bronte was safe. The men thought that Melissa was her and took her because he had to fall in love with a woman who reminded him so much of her. He was annoyed with himself for placing Melissa in danger. He should have predicted this, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that the son of Luis Formosa, would search for her even after all of these years. He thought he had protected her and had moved on in his life without her, if it meant that she was safe and happy. But it all went south when he received a call from her, sobbing. He could hardly understand her, but he had dropped everything and caught the next flight to New York.

The only door into the room where they were tied up, opened and more light streamed inside. The men who entered were shadows with the light behind them. But then one of them turned the light on, causing Mick to squint. It was too bright for his eyes and he needed time to adjust. Adán Formosa stepped forward and hauled him off the floor. "Where is she?"

Mick furrowed his brow. "Who are you talking about?"

"The woman that you stole from me, fifteen years ago. She belonged to me and you took her." Adán Formosa snarled at him.

"I don't know who you're talking about." He let his English accent that he had picked up from his parents strengthen in his voice, in hope that it would confuse the man before him.

Adán moved back and looked at Melissa. "You will call her and arrange to meet you, or your wife will become mine, in her place. Your wife for Bronte."

It was no use, Mick realised. The man knew Bronte's real name. It proved to him what he had always suspected, that Greg had been targeted because he was her husband. He needed to warn Callen, he needed to keep Bronte out of this. He hadn't gone to all of this effort to have her placed in danger again. But then he looked at Melissa who had begun to stir. He nodded to his captor and was relieved that Adán untied his bonds and handed him his cell.

Office of Special Projects

Callen frowned at his cell when he realised who was calling him. He indicated to Gibbs to put a trace on and answered the call. Gibbs moved away from Callen and dialled DiNozzo, who he'd sent with Nell. "Need a trace on the call coming into Callen's cell, NOW."

"On it boss."

"Hello?" He remained quiet in his talking to see if he could hear anything in the background.

"Bron, it's Mick. Are you back in L.A. yet?" Callen picked up instantly that Mick had deliberately called his cell instead of Bronte's.

"Yes, I am."

"Oh good. Mel and I are away for a few days staying at the Hilton Checkers. We were wondering if you would like to catch up with us tonight for dinner, around 7?"

"Yeah, sure." Callen continued to answer softly. If whoever had taken Mick and his wife thought he was talking to Bronte, then he had to pretend to be her.

"Mel would love to hear all about your new man that you told me about the other day." Mick was telling him that Bronte had told him about him in D.C. and to warn him that any man associated with Bronte was in danger. With what Gibbs had told him, he knew that he had to be careful."

"Looking forward to catching up with you again. Bye."Callen disconnected the call and turned to Gibbs. "We need people in at the Hilton Checkers Hotel stat. That's where Bronte is supposed to meet Mick and Mel at seven."

"He's a smart guy. Rang you instead of Bronte. He knows about the two of you and he's happy for you both. He saw how much her face lit up just hearing your name."

"We need to rescue them or we'll miss our only chance in bringing them home alive."

Montebello

"See, that wasn't so hard." Adán looked over to him and smiled.

Mick saw the fear in Melissa's eyes and she really thought that he had sold Bronte out. Although she had no idea what was going on, she knew that Mick had traded Bronte for her. And that this was tearing him apart on the inside. She was aware of their past and long term friendship and understood why he dropped everything, twenty months earlier for her when Greg and Carrie were killed. She saw him sign a name to her and she realised that he hadn't called Bronte, but Callen. She'd heard Bronte talk about Callen with love in her eyes and also knew that Mick worked with him. It gave her some peace of mind at least that he hadn't called Bronte.

"Tie his hands back up." Adán ordered, annoyed over Mick's signing. He'd witnessed the boy sign to his sister and father that day in the park. It was that reason that he had decided to spare him. He would leave her with the damaged child. But it wasn't the boy that he cared about. It was the woman whom he knew had born his child. He'd searched for him and had yet to find his son. Anger surged through him as he slapped Mick across the face. "Now tell me, what happened to my son? Where is he?"

Mick shuffled on his spot on the floor and kicked out his legs to injure the Columbian. Adán fell hard on his arm, injuring him. He cursed out in Spanish at Mick, who understood every word he said. He held his right arm with his left to protect it as he stood up. He kicked Mick hard in the ribs, causing him to yell out in pain. It had been worth it, Mick decided. To suffer some pain just to give some back to the bastard. "He's dead." Mick coughed out.

Adán was taken by surprise by the answer. He studied Mick and realised that he was telling him the truth. He had never envisage that the boy could be dead. He would be fourteen now, had he been alive. Ready for him to train up to take over the family business one day. He stormed out of the room and paced the floor. He wanted the woman and his son back. His visage darkened as he thought over his plan. Not one woman had birthed him a son, other than Bronte. It's what made her special to him. All the others had born him girls, who only caused him more grief than any benefit. He barged back into the room and hauled Mick back up onto his feet with his left arm. His right arm throbbed and he knew that he would need a doctor to assess it. He just hoped that it wasn't broken. He needed his strength to control the woman. Or he'd have to drug her again. "When did he die?"

Mick could see that the Columbian truly cared for the boy, but it still didn't make him like him one bit. "Eighteen months. He had leukaemia." A tear ran down Mick's face betraying him over his own love for the boy, even though he knew that this monster before him was the real father.

A groan escaped Adán's mouth at the realisation that his son had died so young from a disease. He slammed the door shut behind him and exited the building. He needed to get his prisoners ready to transfer to the Hilton in time for their meet with Bronte. He took in a deep breath and screamed out loud. It echoed throughout the abandoned commercial estate. His plans of training up his son was ruined. He paced the parking lot until an idea filled his mind. We'll have another one. I will get her pregnant. Yes, that's what I'll do.