There is always a sense of sadness mixed with a feeling of accomplishment when a story comes to an end. This one went in a direction I didn't expect but I learned a long time ago to let it go where it will. Whenever I've tried to force my writing down a predetermined path I feel less than satisfied with the finished product. My grateful thanks go to all who took this journey with me. I hope you enjoy the ending.

A Dangerous Game

Chapter Eighteen

If his arrival had surprised Carter he was hiding it well. After being thoroughly searched Callen was ushered into a large room elegantly furnished with sofas, arm chairs and dark wood coffee tables. The windows gave a view of manicured lawns and carefully tended flower beds. After taking a leisurely look at his surroundings he finally turned his attention to Brandon Carter who waved him to a seat.

"I'd offer you a drink but I assume you're on duty." Carter sat down, completely relaxed and appearing only mildly curious.

"You'd be wrong." Callen made himself comfortable. "They fired me."

"Really? I thought you'd be hailed as the returning hero." The well-bred tone didn't hide the ironic or sarcastic nature of that comment. To most people Carter was still renowned as a war hero who had saved his men under fire. It was a reputation he would use to good effect.

"Yeah, me too. Turns out they didn't like my methods. Then you walked out of jail and they decided I was expandable."

"What a waste. I'd offer you a job but I don't like your methods either. Why are you here?"

Callen held Carter's gaze for longer than necessary before answering. "I have information for sale."

"Why should I believe anything you tell me?" Carter asked incredulously.

"Don't you want to know who betrayed you?" He looked over his shoulder, noting that Carter's bodyguard was still in the room. "I would if I were in your position."

"As you've taken the trouble to come to see me I suppose I should humour you," Carter responded.

"Frank Mitchell."

Carter's eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"He made a deal," Callen continued placidly. "In return for getting an agent inside your organization he was promised full immunity. He'd spent a year in jail even though you'd promised to get him out and decided to take matters into his own hands."

"He knew I was working on it. These things take time."

Callen gave a half-smile. "He was tired of taking the heat for you. I bet he's with the DA now handing over all your dirty little secrets." He stood up. "That must be worth something."

His heart rate increased in anticipation of Carter's reaction. This was the wild card. Would he be thrown out or would Carter take retaliatory action? He knew there was a possibility that exposing Carter's Achilles heel could lead to a quick bullet to the head but he was gambling on the man wanting to establish the truth of the information first. Because he was looking for it he saw the brief gesture made to the bodyguard lurking behind him. There was the sound of the safety being removed from a gun.

"Let's find out if you're still lying," Carter said.

NCISLA

The van belonged to one of the most expensive wine stores in LA. It had been donated by the owner on the strength of one brief phone call from Hetty. Kensi parked within reach of the intercom and turned down the music blaring from the radio. Sam and Deeks crouched in the back armed with automatic rifles, pistols and knives. Their tactical vests displayed their affiliation to NCIS.

Kensi pressed the button and waited. Carter's house sat on five acres of prime real estate in Beverley Hills and the only way in was through the main gates. It had taken more than an hour to put the operation together during which time their nerves had become increasingly shredded. Callen was still inside, his physical condition unknown. Surprisingly it had been Granger who had been the calming influence, proving his tactical insightfulness.

"Yes?" A deep male voice rang from the speaker.

"Oh, hi," Kensi said brightly. "I have a delivery for Mr. Carter."

"He didn't order anything."

"Yeah, I know. It's a gift. Six boxes of champagne."

"Who from?"

"No idea, dude. I'm just paid to drive the van."

There was a pause before the man spoke again. "Get lost."

"Seriously?" Kensi said in disbelief. "If I take this back my boss'll lose the sale. D'you have any idea how much this stuff costs? He'll have a stroke and then he'll fire me. How'm I supposed to feed my kid if I don't have a job?"

"Alright, enough with the sob story. Bring it round the back."

"Thanks, dude. I owe you."

The gate began to swing open. Kensi released the safety on her gun, keeping it out of sight, and glanced over her shoulder. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Just remember that our jurisdiction is tenuous. If Granger hadn't reinstated Callen's badge we'd have no probable cause to enter the premises. Let's do this quietly. No shooting unless they fire first."

Deeks activated his earwig. "We're going in, Eric. We need confirmation of numbers."

"Six heat signatures. Three are outside; one at the rear and two out front. The others are all in the same room on the ground level. From the plans it looks like a large sitting room at the back of the building. Let me know when you're in the house and I'll direct you."

"Let's go," Sam said grimly.

Kensi drove through the gate and followed the driveway round to the back of the house. The man waiting for her was tall and muscular with dark hair and eyes. He was very good-looking in a lethal kind of way. She stopped the van, put it in park and opened the window. His lips curved in an appreciative smile. She bit her bottom lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hi, handsome," she purred. "Want to help me move the boxes?"

"Sure thing, honey."

"Did he just call you honey?" Deeks asked through the comlink. "I'm almost starting to feel sorry for him."

Kensi kept her smile in place until he moved away. She stripped off her blouse to uncover her tactical vest fitted over a dark blue t-shirt. She was right behind him when he opened the rear doors and froze at the sight of two pistols pointed at his head. Kensi jammed her gun against the back of his neck. "Back away slowly."

Sam and Deeks scrambled out of the van. Kensi searched their prisoner and took his gun before Deeks cuffed him and threw him in the back of the van.

"Stay," Deeks ordered, shutting and locking the doors.

"One down," Kensi reported.

"There's someone coming your way," Eric warned.

They took cover and waited. The presence of a van and absence of his colleague caught the guard's attention. Before he could investigate Deeks threw an arm around his neck, choking him unconscious. Silently he lowered the body to the ground and pulled the man behind some bushes. A zip-tie ensured the guard would stay down and out of the fight.

"Two," Deeks said.

"Alright." It was Nell who took up the role of providing instructions. "Bad guy number three is still near the front door. You won't get near him without a distraction."

"Kensi?" Sam said.

"On it." She slipped her gun out of sight and retrieved her blouse to cover the vest. "Be ready," she said. She took a deep breath and walked confidently round to the front of the building, stopping a couple of feet past the corner. "Hey," she called. "Your friends said to tell you they've got a situation."

The man she was facing was older than the other two and looked world-weary. He had a semi-automatic pistol dangling by a strap from his shoulder. In a single smooth move it was in his hands and pointing straight at her. "Who're you?"

Kensi raised her hands, feigning bemused terror and began to back slowly away. "Hey, man, chill out. I'm not looking for any trouble. They said to come get you."

With a soft grunt the man suddenly fell to his knees, Sam's knife buried between his shoulder blades. He pitched forward to land heavily on his face. Deeks darted out and felt for a pulse.

"I thought we weren't supposed to kill them?"

"He had a gun pointed at Kensi." Sam retrieved the knife and wiped it on the dark material of his pants to remove the blood.

"Oh, well that's alright then."

"Eric. Nell. We're going in. Which way?" Sam asked.

"Hallway to the left of the entrance. Then hang a right and it's second on the right," Eric said.

"Sam," Nell said, her tone conveying her concern. "Only two of the heat signatures are moving."

"Got it. Kensi. Deeks. Let's move."

When they reached the door Sam held up three fingers, silently counting down to zero. Deeks kicked the door open and Sam rushed in, confident that his team mates would be right behind him.

Carter's bodyguard froze in the act of reaching for his weapon. Sam left him to Kensi and Deeks. His focus was on Brandon Carter and the unmoving form of his partner. Callen lay sprawled on a cream and gold rug. Carter stood over him, a gun pointed at his head.

Sam caught Carter's gaze and held it. He couldn't believe he'd once admired this worthless piece of shit. "Drop it," he ordered.

Carter stepped away and crouched to place his gun on the floor. His expression was smug. "There's no law against protecting my own property. This man broke in and…"

"Stop talking," Sam growled. "Kick the gun over here and get on your knees with your hands behind your head."

"You are out of your league, Agent Hanna." Carter complied slowly with Sam's instructions. "You can arrest me now but I'll be out of jail again by dinner time."

Sam kept his gun pointed steadily at Carter while checking Callen's pulse. "He's alive. Get some help in here." He scanned the room. "Deeks, there are two cameras. Find the footage."

"Unless you have a warrant I'd advise you not to touch anything," Carter stated coldly.

"There's a Federal Agent bleeding on your expensive rug. That's enough to give us jurisdiction."

For the first time Carter looked less than composed. "He said he'd been fired."

Sam's grin was unpleasant. "And you believed him? I thought you'd have learned your lesson by now." He stalked over and secured Carter's wrists with a zip tie which he pulled deliberately tight.

With a groan Callen began to stir. He rolled over and looked at Sam through eyes almost swollen shut. "'Bout time you got here," he mumbled.

If he hadn't looked so battered and pathetic Sam might have been tempted to slug him. "We'd have been here sooner if you ever remembered to let us in on the plan." He helped Callen to his feet and let him to a sofa. "Sit down and try to keep out of trouble."

Callen sat hunched forward protecting his ribs. He ran his tongue over split and bruised lips. "Did you get enough to nail him?" he asked haltingly.

"Enough for an aggravated assault charge," Sam replied. "That'll put him away for a while." He studied Callen's face which had become very pale. "You want to explain yourself?"

"I couldn't let him walk away."

"I get that. Couldn't you come up with a plan that didn't involve getting the crap beaten out of you?"

"The options were limited." Callen straightened up enough to watch Kensi shoving Carter toward the door. "I had to provoke him so I told him Mitchell had been the one to set everything in motion."

"He believed you?"

"Not at first. He thought pain would motivate me to change my story. He needed to know the truth so I told him just enough to make him doubt Mitchell's loyalty. He didn't know about the bug in Mitchell's office and some of the information I gave him could only have come from Frank. That was when he lost control. I don't remember much after that."

"How'd you know we'd come?"

"I knew the house was being watched. The rest was on trust."

"You're a damn fool, G," Sam said with resigned exasperation.

"I know."

NCISLA

Callen was still on the sofa an hour later. He'd dozed for a while, been prodded by paramedics and was vaguely aware of the flurry of activity from his former team mates and other law enforcement officers. A couple of pain killers had taken the edge off his discomfort and he'd been given an ice pack to help reduce the swelling around the left side of his jaw.

He'd briefly spoken to Deeks and Kensi. Unlike his last rescue both were keen to make sure that he'd suffered no serious injuries. This time they'd acknowledged his thanks and praise for the smoothness of the operation.

For the last few minutes he'd been steeling himself for the inevitable encounter with Sam. His friend's gruff concern for his health had gone a long way to reconciling him to the truth of what Deeks and Kensi had told him about the reasons for Sam's uncharacteristic behaviour at their last meeting.

He greeted his former partner with a smile filled with embarrassment. "I guess it's time for a lecture."

Sam sat down wearily and shook his head. "What's the point? You never listen. Why did you leave, G?"

"You know why. You said it yourself…I did too much damage."

"I was wrong. We make a good team. Let us prove it."

"I'm sorry, Sam." His stomach lurched when he saw Hetty and Granger walk into the room.

Hetty's smile was heartfelt although she quickly resumed a bland expression. Granger looked as bad-tempered as ever. Callen thought about standing up to face them and quickly decided against it. His balance wasn't great and he'd been damned before he fell on his face in front of the Assistant Director.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Callen?"

"About as good as I look. Give me a minute and I'll get out of your way."

"There's no hurry," Granger said.

"If you want to yell at me can we get it over with?" he asked tiredly. "I'm sure I've broken any number of laws." He was grateful when Sam stood up and moved to his side. He could use an ally and Sam would never let him down in front of Granger.

"No-one's here to censure you, Agent Callen."

Callen frowned and glanced at Hetty who returned the look impassively. "I'm not an Agent. I turned in my badge."

Granger reached into the interior pocket of his jacket and drew out Callen's badge. He threw it into Callen's lap. "You left it at the office. That's the second time. The first time Director Vance gave it back. Now, it's my turn. It won't happen again."

When Callen looked at the badge he realized how desperately he wanted to accept this lifeline but he was afraid of the reaction from the others.

"What're you waiting for?" Sam asked.

"I don't…" He cleared his throat. "Nothing's changed."

"You're right, Mr. Callen. Nothing's changed. Your team needs you as much as they ever did."

"Sam?"

"I don't want the job. Too much paperwork."

"What about Kensi and Deeks?" He'd seen them follow Hetty into the room but couldn't read their expressions.

"Why don't you ask us?" Deeks said. "'Cause it's time we had our say."

"Alright."

"We want you back, Callen," Kensi said. "We've lost too many good agents…and friends."

"Are you sure?" His fingers closed around the badge.

"We're sure," Deeks said emphatically.

"Well, if we're done with the warm and fuzzies perhaps we could all get back to work," Granger said. "Agent Callen, get your team moving. The DA needs the evidence if he's going to keep that bastard in jail this time."

Callen struggled to his feet with the help of Sam's steadying hand. "You heard the Assistant Director," he said, looking proudly at each member of his team. "We've got work to do."

The end

Caroline

March 2013