Chapter 10

Callen drove his Mercedes fast down the freeway, not caring where he headed. Every time he managed to come to peace with himself over the latest catastrophe that was his life, someone always pitched a curve ball towards his head. He considered Hetty's theory. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. On his return from Romania a few years ago, he had constantly wondered why his mother had been happily sitting on the beach, merely a stone's throw from the Comescu compound. Callen recalled her laughing – definitely not the behaviour of someone who felt threatened or in danger. For a while it hadn't mattered to him how he and his sister arrived in America or ended up in the welfare state; he had finally known who his mother and father were and that for a short time he had been part of a loving family. He had clung on to that thought for months and relished in the comfort it had given him. Damn Hetty, Callen thought, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He thought about the real culprits responsible for his harsh upbringing and he swore aloud in Russian at the Russians and then cursed the Comescu's in Romanian, which was the closest he could muster to the Romani language.

Catching sight of an LAPD patrol car ahead, Callen decelerated fast. The last thing he needed was to be caught speeding and he realised that in his present frame of mind he would likely get arrested for assaulting a police officer. And it would be a toss-up as to whether that would be verbal or physical assault. That would really prove to Hetty that he needed therapy for anger management, he thought sarcastically, and would probably earn him another suspension or worse. Taking a deep breath, Callen grabbed his cell and speed dialled Ops.

"Hey Callen," Eric answered.

"Eric, I need to find Arkady, where's his cell?"

"Give me a few minutes...you know Sam is looking for you?" Eric asked.

"Just call me when you have Arkady's location," Callen hung up. The last thing he needed was for Sam to get on his case, and if Sam was looking for him then Hetty probably was too. Callen swore to himself again as he realised he'd been too abrupt with Eric. The tech operator always had his back and really wasn't deserving of his bad mood. Callen took a deep breath, reached for his cell and rang Eric back.

"Callen," Eric said rather tentatively.

"Sorry Eric," Callen apologised. "I shouldn't have hung up, but Arkady will give me more information if I'm on my own." He decided that a half truth would at least pacify Eric, even if he did end up telling Sam where he was headed.

"Hey, that's OK. I've found Arkady, he's at the Langham Huntington in Pasadena."

"Thanks Eric," Callen signed off as he looked for the next exit ramp to make his way to the hotel.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

It was shortly after 4pm when Callen arrived at the hotel and he quickly dialled Eric again to confirm Arkady's exact location. The Langham was a large hotel covering twenty three acres, and whilst he could assume Arkady was dining in one of the fine restaurants, he was sure the staff would not want him darting in and out of each of them until he found him. Callen's attire did not really fit the dress code of the Langham; scruffy Levi's, old, scuffed Blundstone boots and a light grey T-shirt. They were clothes that cost him less than a bread roll would in these restaurants, he thought wryly.

Eric confirmed Arkady was in the Terrace so Callen flashed his badge at the receptionist and asked for directions. Following her concise instructions, Callen walked along several corridors, took a right turn and was then stopped in his tracks by the maitre'd. He discretely showed his badge and pointed to a table in the restaurant's interior. In the far corner, set against the full length windows that looked out to the patio, sat Arkady. And he had company.

Callen approached the men and studied the faces at the table. There were four men, including Arkady who was sitting to the left. The two men to his right looked like they could be Russian Mafia. Arkady caught sight of Callen and lifted his head in greeting, causing the fourth man who had his back to Callen, to turn and face him. Boris Kozlov.

"Callen," Arkady stood and held out his hand to Callen who accepted with a firm handshake.

"Arkady," he said, staring at each of the three faces which were now assessing him.

"Let me introduce you, this is Viktor Volkov and his colleague Yegor Petrov." The two men remained seated. Viktor was portly with white, receding hair. Callen reckoned he was in his mid 60s and very much old school. His colleague Yegor was around the same age as Callen himself, but tall and stocky – and he looked slightly familiar. He wasn't muscular like Sam but he would certainly be a challenge in a fight. Callen did not offer his hand but merely gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to both men as Arkady continued. "And this is Boris Kozlov. Gentlemen, this my good friend Callen."

Arkady neglected to mention which line of business any of the men were in, something which Callen hoped may go in his favour until Kozlov spoke.

"Your 'good friend'," Boris pointed to Callen, "is a Federal Agent, maybe CIA, he tried to blackmail me this morning. You should keep better company, Kolcheck."

"Boris," Arkady waved his right hand dismissively. "You know how it works. I do him favours, he does me favours. Business, nothing more. We know each other for long time."

Viktor Volkov smiled and said to his colleagues in Russian, "if he blackmails Russian officials and does favours for ex-KGB, he could be a useful contact for us."

Arkady interjected in Russian. "Be careful what you wish for, my friend here is full of surprise. Do not underestimate him." Switching to English, he turned his attention to his American friend. "Callen, sit please." Arkady pointed to the free space next to him and snapped his fingers to attract the attention of a nearby waitress. "You thirsty, eat?"

Callen surveyed the collection of Russians in front of him and decided it would be interesting to play along. His bad mood was slowly dissipating and there was no way he could quiz Arkady about the personal nature of two specific Russian sleeper agents from the mid 1970s with the current company.

"Sure," he said without a smile, ordering coffee from the waitress as he sat down. "So what do you guys do for a living?"

Viktor & Yegor shifted in their seats slightly. "We are business men," was the non-committal response.

Callen looked at both of them. "And what line of business would that be?"

"I am in financial securities and my colleague here is in travel," Yegor responded.

So Russian Mafia, specialising in fraud, extortion and human trafficking, Callen thought. Arkady kept remarkable company and Callen was thankful that despite this, the former KGB officer had always appeared to be on his side. He stared at Yegor, willing his mind to associate the face with a place or a meeting in his past.

"Where have we met?" He asked Yegor directly.

Yegor smiled slightly and spoke slowly in reply. "I do not know you. I would have remembered if we'd met."

Callen narrowed his eyes at the sinister undertone to Yegor's words, accepting the unspoken challenge. "No, we've met before...and I will remember."

Arkady glanced at the two men who were sizing each other up across the table. "Come now, we all friends here, no? I know Yegor for one year now, he helps with my security business. He is good man, like you Callen."

Callen and Yegor continued to stare at each other, neither willing to back down and break the deadlock.

"And you Mr Callen?" Viktor interrupted, deliberately moving the conversation away from Callen's suspicion of his colleague. "Which agency are you with?"

"The agency that deals with security," he answered, as vague with the truth as his new Russian acquaintances.

He broke away from Yegor's stare and thought quickly; he knew the younger man from his past. Callen rarely forgot faces or names and he realised it would only be a matter of time before he could place him. Maybe that was the problem, maybe he couldn't place Yegor because his name and face did not marry up? He could wait. If he was on Arkady's payroll, he could be found anytime, day or night.

"The agency that deals with security," Viktor repeated Callen's words with a shrewd smile. "CIA, FBI, NSA, Homeland Security? You Americans love your agencies and your letters..."

"Take your pick," Callen responded. He was relieved that very few people associated the Naval Criminal Investigative Service with Federal Agencies.

"Not FBI," Viktor ruled out. "They only wear cheap suits. Maybe CIA?"

"Yes," Arkady laughed. "Callen does not wear suit, maybe one day you will afford sharp clothes like me, yes?"

"Not on my salary," Callen responded, tilting his head in Arkady's direction.

"Perhaps I can help with that?" Viktor said candidly.

So Viktor seemed very keen to play his hand, Callen thought. He wondered if Arkady had mentioned him in previous conversations as Viktor was being almost too open and trusting. Either that or he was a long term acquaintance of Arkady's. If he was involved in people smuggling there was a possibility he could prove useful but of course that depended on how long he'd been involved with that particular game.

"Which area of travel are you in?" Callen asked to deflect attention away from him.

"The area that deals with moving people from one country to another, to satisfy their desires," Viktor answered, keeping in line with theme of evading direct responses.

"Excellent, now we know what we do, we eat," Arkady said. His eyes flitted between each of his companions as he analysed the suspicious turn the conversations were taking. "Yegor," he spoke in Russian. "Where have you met Callen?"

"I do not know. I do not think our paths have crossed, but I would very much like to get to know him." Yegor threw Callen a hard stare as he answered Arkady, still avoiding English.

Callen followed the conversation and remained silent. Now was not the time to reveal he was fluent in Russian, especially if Arkady could persuade Yegor to reveal more about himself. Instead he decided to try and get some information pertinent to his team's latest case.

"My work in securities," Callen addressed Yegor in English, "has brought me into contact with the development of Laser Weapons."

"An interesting area for the military," Yegor admitted. "But there are no secrets – the US and Russia have both developed and successfully tested Laser Weapons on war ships over recent months."

"What interests me is the sudden technological leaps the Russians have made," Callen said.

"Yes," Boris Kozlov interrupted. He had remained silent during the words between Yegor and Callen. He did not like the American and he certainly did not trust him. He had only just met Yegor and had already formed similar opinions to Callen about him. "Our scientists and engineers made a number of advances through research."

"Research through private contractors on US war ships," Callen met Boris' hard glare and then addressed the rest of the table. "Boris here helped me out with some information this morning about Peter Rogers and Lance Corporal Kyle Mason. As a result he helped saved an American life. Now that's what I call cooperation between our countries."

"You blackmailed me for that information and I paid you to leave me alone," Boris raised his voice in frustration.

"No you didn't," Callen responded calmly, refuting the payoff but leaving the comment that he blackmailed a government official out there for the Mafia to ponder.

Boris shook his head and smiled knowingly at Callen who pointedly ignored him and turned his attention to Viktor Volkov. "How long have you been in travel?" He asked Viktor.

"Long time, since forty years," Viktor poured himself a coffee from the pot the waitress had just refreshed.

"You must have met a lot of people in that time. And how long you have known Arkady?"

"Many years," Viktor said, raising his coffee to his lips and blowing slightly before taking a sip.

Back to that old game, Callen thought. Without asking them directly about Mason or revealing his own personal agenda, this conversation would go on for hours, forever dancing round in circles.

"What information did you give him Boris," Yegor asked in Russian, concern etched over the younger man's face.

"The address where the America could be found," Boris replied, in his native tongue.

"That is good. But he does not know why Mason was taken. Stupid Americans can only link it to Laser weapons. They are so short sighted."

"I just did what I was told," Boris said surly, throwing a glance at Callen. "I know nothing."

"Me neither my friend, I only hear whispers," Yegor replied.

"But this agent is also interested in my line of business," Viktor joined in. "I think a separate meeting with this man is in order. He's the type to not think twice about blackmail, bribes and he has ended many lives – just look at him. For the right price, I think we can use him."

The conversation in Russian was watched in amusement by Arkady and Callen, who shared a discrete look. Arkady was not about to burst the bubble of the men besides him by warning them that Callen was fluent in the language, not if Callen himself did not want that information to be general knowledge.

So Boris Kozlov is nothing more than a stooge, Callen thought. He had been ordered to pass on the address where Mason was held but for what purpose? To throw the US off the scent of what? From the short conversations it would seem that Laser weapons were not the real target. And if Viktor thought he would betray his country – well, Callen could easily turn that to his own advantage and make Viktor think he was getting what he wanted, when all the while Callen was reaping the rewards of Russian Mafia intel on criminal activity.

"My friends, we should not be rude to our guest, please, speak English." Arkady admonished his compatriots in Russian, fully aware of how ironic this sentence was for Callen.

"My apologies," Viktor switched back to English and bowed his head at Callen. "It was rude of us to exclude you from our conversation."

Callen was about to respond when he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. Sam had found him and was approaching his table rapidly, a look of thunder was spread across his face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked aggressively.

"Drinking coffee," Callen lifted his coffee cup to prove the fact. "Care to join us?"

"I don't think so. We've gotta go."

"Go where?" Callen asked.

"I'll tell you on the way," Sam said, leaving little room for argument.

"Fine," Callen stood and acknowledged his new acquaintances. "Gentlemen."

Three of the four Russians watched Callen walk away from their table with a mixture of frustration and curiosity on their faces. Arkady merely looked amused, and turned his attention back to entertaining his guests, figuring Callen would pay him another visit in the not too distant future.

"What was all that about?" Callen asked Sam as they walked to the hotel lobby. "You getting all aggressive again?"

"What d'ya mean? I saw you storm out and practically had to force Eric to find you. I think you owe me a few answers G."

Callen shrugged, "I was after some intel from Arkady and thought he'd be more responsive if I was on my own."

"And?"

"And nothing. You saw Arkady has company so I couldn't ask him outright."

"Who were those other two?" Sam asked, referring to Viktor and Yegor.

"Russian Mafia," Callen responded. "They were talking amongst themselves in Russian and it seems that Mason's abduction is not linked to Laser weapons. Boris Kozlov was told to give up Mason's location."

"What, told to give it up to us?" Sam stopped just before the hotel entrance to face Callen.

"Don't know, probably told to give it to any American law enforcement that asked. Viktor – the older one – wants to set up a meeting with me. Reckons I could be a useful connection for them."

"I take it they know who you are?"

"Kozlov worked out I'm a Federal Agent. They don't know which agency and also think I'm corrupt," Callen chuckled to himself. "They also didn't realise I'm fluent in Russian and I think I'll keep it that way for a while."

"Just be careful you're not playing with fire," Sam warned as they continued walking to the car park. "You remember what Hetty said?"

Callen's face darkened slightly at the mention of Hetty's name. For the past twenty minutes or so, he had managed to forget about how he'd reacted to Hetty's latest update on his family history.

Sam noticed the change in Callen immediately. "What's up between you and Hetty?"

"Nothing," Callen said, reaching in his pocket for his car keys. "I'm calling it a day. Got a physio appointment tomorrow so I'll see you around 11."

Sam stared at his partner, watching as he opened the door of his silver Mercedes and eased himself into the driver's seat. The engine started with a sultry purr and without a glance back, Callen pulled out of his parking space and drove towards the exit.