The corridor narrowed, forcing them to move single file. Pipes rattled above as if disturbed by movement, but no one was in sight. The sound from before—metal on concrete—had stopped. Whoever they were tracking had either gone quiet... or was watching.

Nell kept close behind Callen, steps light, weapon steady. The banter from earlier gone now, buried under layers of focus and adrenaline.

They reached a fork—one path continued deeper into darkness, the other led to a door. Not just any door—this one was new. Reinforced steel. Out of place in a building that looked like it had been forgotten for decades.

Callen tried the handle. Locked.

He glanced at Nell, who'd already stepped forward, crouching near the keypad beside the frame. It blinked faintly—still active, running on internal power. Definitely not abandoned.

"Well?" he asked, keeping his weapon trained down the dark hall.

She smirked, pulling a small tool from her belt. "Didn't think you brought me for my sparkling personality."

"I don't know," Callen said, watching her work. "You've got some sparkle."

Nell didn't miss the look he gave her—half a tease, half serious. She felt the smile tug at her lips, but kept her focus on the keypad.

"Give me twenty seconds."she mumbled as she slid the cover off the keypad and poked at some wires

"Take thirty." Callen joked.

The lock gave a soft click. The door creaked open.

Callen stepped in first, clearing the space with fast, fluid precision. Nell followed—and stopped short.

Rows of servers. Racks of humming tech. Cold light from monitors lit up the walls like a sci-fi set. Dozens of screens, running diagnostics, code, facial recognition, data packets—streams of stolen information, surveillance, maybe even something darker.

Nell lowered her weapon, stunned. "This isn't just a hideout. This is a full-blown data ops center."

Callen gave a low whistle, stepping forward and brushing dust off a monitor. "Guess we found the heart of the operation."

She moved between the racks, already examining connections, noting what was networked and what wasn't. "These servers aren't just running—they're transferring. Someone's actively pushing files offsite. If we don't stop the feed, everything here could vanish in minutes."

Callen looked over at her, and that smirk of his returned. "And you said you were just here for field experience."

Nell arched a brow, already slipping a portable drive from her pocket. "What can I say? I like to be overprepared."

He watched her for a moment—impressed, amused. "You're about to be the MVP of this op, you know that?"

She glanced up, flashing a grin. "Then buy me coffee after."

Callen tilted his head. "Only if we survive."

"Optimist."

She got to work, sliding into a chair and plugging into one of the active terminals. Her fingers flew over the keys, breaking through the system's defenses like it was muscle memory.

"Whoever set this up knew what they were doing," she muttered. "Encrypted transfers, layered proxies, custom routing. This isn't your average basement hacker setup—this is agency-grade."

"So… someone with training?"

"Or access to it." She paused. "This isn't just about data theft. They're watching people. Surveillance footage from multiple cities. Facial tracking. Government tags."

Callen stiffened. "You think they've breached federal systems?"

"I don't think," Nell said, her voice grim. "I know."

A beat passed between them.

Then Callen tapped his comm again.

"Sam, we found a secure tech room under the east wing. Racks of servers. Active data transfers—this is bigger than we thought."

Sam answered, voice sharp with focus. "Copy. Kensi and Deeks are inside, sweeping ground level. I'm coming to you."

Nell was already isolating the data stream, fingers dancing across the keyboard. "I can stop the transfer, but if someone's monitoring this remotely, they'll know we're in."

Callen moved toward the door again, eyes sharp. "How much time do you need to do your thing?"

"Less than Eric."'she joked.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Remind me to never underestimate you."

"Good," she murmured, eyes back on the screen. "I hate being underestimated."

Outside, footsteps echoed—fast and coming closer.

Nell didn't look up. "I hope that's Sam."

Callen raised his weapon and shifted toward the door, eyes narrowed. "So do I."