It seemed most of the community had taken a leaf out of Raider and Deeks' book and also taken a day off. Callen wandered around the property aimlessly thinking he must have missed some kind of message given the previous day, not that he was particularly bothered. It was the first time since arriving at the ranch that he really had time to himself. He had still managed to maintain a certain level of privacy but the undercover socialising had actually left him feeling rather exhausted. Maybe Sam was right, he thought and he was a social recluse. Lyneham was nowhere to be seen for which Callen was thankful. It meant he could freely poke around some of the other barns for evidence of explosive materials and weapons. He decided to start with the large barn that lay on the outskirts of the ranch, well aware it was also the one that ran the highest risk of him being discovered. In his own mind he logically thought there would be a better outcome if he was caught snooping during the day than under the cover of night. He was not sure how he would be treated if found, as three days previous Deeks had prised information from some of the kids that this was an out of bounds area. One of the older boys had received a hiding when he was found to have picked the lock and was attempting to jack open one of many long wooden crates. He had also told Deeks he had seen stacks of canisters emblazoned with the sign for hazardous materials.

Aware there was no one else around at least on the outside, Callen confidently approached the barn door. He tested the lock and was surprised to find it open, which most likely meant someone was inside. Throwing all caution to the wind he pulled the door wide and marched inside, calling out a brazen 'hello'. Not waiting for a response he continued walking to where several dozen large crates were stacked. Callen tapped his fingers on the top as he could see none were open. Glancing to his right he caught sight of the marked containers the kid had told Deeks about. He walked to the other side of the barn and was about to lean down to read the labels when he heard the click of a safety catch being released. Slowly he held up his hands and turned around.

'Well?'

'Well what?' Callen replied keeping his hands in the air and glaring at Ariel indignantly. 'Why the hell are you pointing a gun at me?'

'Maybe because I've just found you sticking your nose in areas that don't concern you?'

'And how am I doing that exactly?' Callen lowered his hands despite the gun still aimed at his torso. 'The door was unlocked, no one answered when I called out...'

'I don't trust you.' Ariel stated bluntly.

'Yeah? Does it look like I give a damn? I don't trust you either. In fact I don't even like you.'

'Clearly. You look like you've never given a damn about anything in your life, even about your dirty looking so-called brother. I saw the way you laid into him the other week.'

'Self-preservation.' Callen said instinctively, wondering if Ariel had actually witnessed his staged altercation with Deeks or was relying on second hand information.

'More like self-ish.' Ariel didn't crack a smile and still the gun was held steady.

'Wow, that's clever. You could really go places with that level of intellect.'

'And you could really be cruising for a beating with that mouth of yours.'

'You gonna shoot me? Because fantastic though this conversation is, I'd much rather have you give me the guided tour of this barn rather than adding to my collection of bullet wounds.'

Ariel cocked her head slightly to her left and with a sudden and decisive move, holstered her gun. She maintained her distance from Callen and looked expectantly at him.

'What?' Callen asked.

'Geez are you always this grumpy?'

'Only when a beautiful woman pulls a gun on me.'

'I thought you didn't like me?'

'Don't mistake flattery for friendship. Self preservation, remember?'

'When were you shot?'

'Nine years ago. Multiple times. Caught without a vest.'

'Hmm, forgot about self preservation?'

'I was having a bad day.'

'Obviously. Where were you shot?'

'Body, shoulder, leg...Wanna see?'

'Not particularly. I meant whereabouts were you when you were shot?'

Callen sighed. He had no idea where this was leading and was very glad Eric had agreed to his re-imagining of his drive-by shooting as a black ops incident. In fact his shooting was almost forgotten until he was changing into his undercover wardrobe and caught sight of the faded bullet wound on his shoulder.

'I was part of a clandestine military task force in Iraq, 2009. Let's just say certain factions had to be neutralised before the US handed over security duties to the local military. And I was having a very bad day. The rest is classified.'

'Interesting. Your records suggest you disobeyed your superior officer and went off on your own instead of waiting for your unit.'

'Well I'm suggesting my records and that operation are highly classified so how the hell have you found out that.'

Callen had every faith in Nell and Eric's ability to backstop his alias to the hilt and he was intrigued how the group had broken through his redacted files - albeit fake. There was also an uneasy feeling gnawing away at the back of his mind. If someone was that good at hacking and had a counterpart equally as good at analysing, there was an increased risk of at least one of their alias's being discovered. If one was discovered, the other would be compromised too.

'We're not a bunch of backward hillbillies.' Ariel caught the smirk on Callen's face and added. 'Well, not all of us.'

'So what is this place?' Callen asked casually looking around now it appeared the immediate threat to his life had passed. Without waiting for an answer he continued. 'This is to do with Josh's plan to take a stand against the establishment isn't it? He said he was behind some smoke bomb in LA a few weeks ago. Well I'll tell you who I'd target - the welfare system and the CIA.'

Ariel folded her arms and studied Callen. She was intrigued that Josh Lyneham had very quickly formed a bond with Rob, as it was out of character. It had seemed more than a strange coincidence they shared the same childhood experiences and then both enlisted in the military to escape their past. Anton DuValle had initially believed Rob was the real deal but now he had his reservations. Ariel shared his concerns although she privately thought he was jealous of the new recruit's relationship with Lyneham. DuValle had readily agreed to Ariel finding out more about the man who stood in front of her. They were not concerned about Billy. Background checks confirmed he was who he said he was and they were convinced he was harmless. It had been noted from various arrest records that Billy had a temper and was not afraid to use his fists against a fellow man or on occasion, a woman. With Lyneham throwing all caution to the wind where Rob was concerned, Ariel realised this was a prime opportunity to discover more about the man who was weaving his way in to the inner sanctum of their group.

'Why?' Ariel asked, curious to know what motivated the man in front of her.

'Child welfare are not fit to look after a bag of laundry let alone scared and traumatised kids. The only thing they did for me was teach me how to take a beating and make sure that no place would ever feel like home. And the CIA are the idiots behind every black ops mission I ever worked, and no doubt all those I didn't. They're responsible for my shooting, my PTSD, the fact I can't get a job, having no home, no girl...'

Ariel refrained from offering a sarcastic retort. Rob's story was no different from many others she'd heard.

'Are they responsible for your criminal activities too?'

'What?' Callen looked genuinely puzzled. His juvenile criminal record was sealed by a court and Hetty was the only person who knew about that. Well Sam had an idea about it too now - and Deeks. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and then mentally kicked himself, realising he had momentarily been caught between his alias and his real identity. He exhaled loudly. 'The CIA were only behind the crimes I committed with my unit. The rest were all me.'

Ariel broke away from holding Callen's stare and moved towards the crates. Grabbing a crowbar from behind one she levered open the box, allowing the lid to fall to the floor.

'Tell me what that is.'

Callen stepped forward and studied the contents of the box. Neatly packed with straw were military grade weapons. He leaned down and picked one up.

'You really going to test me?'

'Yes.'

'This is a M249 light belt-fed machine gun. Gas operated with a folding bipod attached near the front with adjustable legs. It can also be hard mounted. I preferred the Para version with the collapsible buttstock. Makes it shorter, lighter and better to use in close combat. Talk to Raider, it's the special ops weapon of choice. In 2009 the military phased in the M27. They're more accurate, reliable and harder for enemy troops to identify. You have old stock.'

'When was the last time you made a bomb?'

Callen sighed. This was really becoming a game of twenty questions and he sincerely hoped the prize would be coming his way soon.

'Couple of years ago.'

'Indulge me. Tell me the story, the why's and the how's.'

'Some guys had something I wanted, so I said I had something of theirs and demanded a meet. I rigged the car by filling the trunk with old clothes and poured gas over them. I ripped the battery out of another car and connected it to the trunk release switch. I taped a pistol underneath the front of the car. So when they opened the trunk with the remote - boom. I dropped to the ground, grabbed the gun and took out their players.'

'And what was this something they had that you wanted?'

'I don't want to answer that.'

'Why?'

'Because it's personal.'

'There's only you and me here. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret.'

Callen closed his eyes briefly. Keep it real he thought, remember to stick close to the truth. Too many lies and you'll get caught out.

'I thought they'd kidnapped a man who was my father. Turns out he wasn't.'

'You don't know your father?'

'No.' He had no desire to discuss the matter further and turning his back on Ariel, he returned the gun to the crate and placed the lid loosely on top. A hammer and nails would be required to reseal it and he could see neither. He moved to a nearby crate and sat down.

Ariel stared at Rob. A natural curiosity overtook her and she made a mental note to dig further in to his childhood. If redacted military records could be hacked, sealed social welfare records and any juvenile files should be easy to crack. Nothing she'd heard so far indicated he was not the real deal. Maybe DuValle was just jealous and his emotions were bleeding in to her own thoughts.

'Y'know we got a lot of kids here that have been through the system. No one has anything good to say about social services. One girl - a child prostitute - was picked up by local LEOs and delivered to them. Several months later she's placed with a foster family where the uncle farmed her out to his friends. We have an army of people including children here ready to fight, ready to force the government to take note of how they repeatedly let the people down, force them to see they need to make the changes to make America decent.'

'So let's take the fight to them. I can provide overwatch, make IEDs, strategise and fight. Jesus I could even assassinate someone and you would never know how it'd been done.' Callen stopped himself from offered to go undercover to gain trust and inside information. That might have been a step too far and a possible giveaway.

'There's a meeting tomorrow after breakfast to plan the next attacks - strategising and training plans for the men, women and children.'

'I'll be there. Clever idea, getting kids involved. Was that yours?'

'DuValle's actually.'

Callen nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that. He wasn't sure if it surprised him that DuValle would have no qualms about manipulating and using children. While he could easily appreciate kids could access areas unobtrusively, to deliberately place them in danger and use them to further his cause was just wrong and another nail in DuValle's coffin - figuratively speaking of course.

'You need a hand with anything?' Callen asked, more out of politeness than any desire actually help.

'I'm good. Go take a drive downtown or to the coast. Or drink yourself to sleep - whatever it is you do to relax. If you ever relax.'

Ariel's superior attitude had returned and Callen was suddenly glad she had declined his offer of assistance. After such an odd encounter with one of his marks he now had no desire to try and cosy up to DuValle. Instead he wondered if he could borrow a car and head back to the city, maybe meet up with Sam or Kensi to get details on the case from ops.

'Maybe I'll do all three.' Callen replied with a wink to Ariel, who wrinkled her nose in disdain.

'Whatever. Just be here and alert for breakfast tomorrow, nine sharp.'

Callen raised his eyebrows at Ariel and turned his back on her, thinking for a split second she might level her gun at his head and pull the trigger. He exited the barn, blinking in the bright sunlight and considered where Josh might be. He was pretty sure there weren't enough vehicles on the ranch to facilitate every man and woman who fancied shooting off for the day and he hoped he could catch a ride.

He caught up with Lyneham just minutes before he left the ranch. He had planned on taking the newly refurbished Challenger for a spin with one of the other men but the slightly haunted look he glimpsed on Callen's face persuaded him to ditch his original companion in favour of his newest buddy. The pair barely spoke and Lyneham almost wordlessly agreed they would hit Venice, despite knowing Rob's encounter with the police before arriving at his door. Both men had passed one liners at how their mechanical skills meant the Challenger might break down before reaching the main road and it was mainly due to the expertise of the other men, that the car proved to be as reliable as Sam's latest version. The journey itself was uneventful and in just under two hours they arrived at Venice. Callen glanced wistfully at the turn which would have led him towards the boatshed and he allowed himself to smile a little at the thought of seeing Anna again. He had managed to talk to Nell in between leaving Ariel and finding Lyneham and he knew Anna would be waiting for him at the Rusty Anchor, a small local bar located in an alley of East Venice. Lyneham agreed to meet Callen there in a few hours time. He had other business to attend to, namely knocking on his girlfriend's door and demanding to know why she was refusing to answer his calls.