Davis snarled at Dalkin and kicked the door between them shut.
Despite his training Callen couldn't help it, he whimpered and tried to crawl away.
"You lied to me boy…" Davis snarled. He leveled his gun at Callen. "You don't even deserve to join my boys in the basement, I'm gonna kill you and throw you out with the trash."
Callen curled in a ball and covered his head, "No…" Again Grace's face came to mind, her last words to him floating through his brain like a comfort blanket, 'stay safe'.
He kicked out at Davis, whose shot went wide and shot Callen in the shoulder. He groaned as the pain washed over him and passed out as he heard two more gunshots.
Dalkin stood for a second looking at the body of Davis as Callen lay in the corner. "GET A MEDIC!" Dalkin yelled at the top of his voice to the men below who were already on their way to back him up.
"It's ok Callen; you're ok…stay with me." Dalkin repeated as he pressed on the bullet hole in his shoulder.
Callen slowly opened his eyes; he was warm, and comfortable. A feeling he like but knew never to get used to. He knew exactly where he was, Hospital.
A man in a brown suit sat in a chair watching him. The man was annoyed, Davies had been supposed to stand trial, but he had been told he was dead, he wasn't even allowed to see the body on the orders of his superior Hetty Lange, he was just to read the riot act to the boy, find out what happened and move him on to his new assignment.
"So you're awake then?" He said dispassionately.
"Wh…" He started but his mouth was dry, he wet his lips, coughed and started again, "Who are you."
"Stanley, Simon Stanley…FBI Internal Affairs."
Callen looked over at him, "Internal Affairs?" he asked.
"I am here to ascertain what went wrong?" he asked.
"Wrong?" Callen tried to push himself up from the bed.
"Davis was supposed to stand trial, yet he's downstairs in the morgue, this was your first assignment right?" Stanley asked.
"One of those kids on Sessions top secret team." Stanley asked.
"Obviously not that top secret." Callen snapped.
"Your job was to go into the house as Jerry Clarke a 15 year old orphan, you were to live with him for a few days, search the house and report back with your findings."
"Yeah." Callen didn't even look at him.
"So according to our information, you panicked as you approached the house, you gave the game away."
"No!" Callen snapped, "It was part of my cover."
"And how long did your cover last?" Stanley said snidely.
"Davis remembered me," Callen said, "I told them I'd been there before."
Stanley wrote in his file, "So you had a relationship with Davis."
"NO!" Callen snapped, he lifted himself to a sitting position, "No…" he said softer as he relaxed.
"We read the file, he insinuated he'd been….intimate with you, you differed and called him master, so some kind of Sub/Dom relationship that you failed to inform us about?"
Callen stared out the window, they had taken him down, he had found out what happened to the boys, his body was broken and sore, he had done all they had asked why were they pushing him?
"You are looking at Charges here Mr. Callen. The death of a suspect is a serious offence."
"I didn't kill him!" Callen argued, "He did this to me!"
"What did he do to you?" Stanley pushed.
"He beat me to a pulp and shot me in the shoulder."
"Collateral damage, you are an asset, it is your job to bring the criminal in alive, your life isn't important, just the lives of the people you swore to protect."
"I didn't." Callen sat up, cringing at the face he was wearing a hospital gown, "I didn't swear to protect anyone, pass me my pants." He said looking at the pile of bloodstained clothes next to Mr. Stanley.
"Those are evidence." Stanley said.
"Their mine." Callen said protectively
Callen looked torn, he didn't own much and now half of the clothing he owned was being put into a plastic bag and getting sent away.
He slipped back onto the bed with a resigned sigh, "So…what's next." He asked, maybe they'd send him back to the training center.
"It's says here you will be meeting a new handler, the FBI cannot use you, but the CIA have requested you for a mission in Serbia."
"Serbia?" Callen looked surprised
"Your handler will be here soon. I just have a few more questions…Did you want Mr. Davis to die?" He asked watching the kids face.
"No…I wanted him to face trial, I wanted him to rot in prison, I wanted him to live and long and unhappy life and I wanted to be the one to put him there," Callen said honestly.
Stanley nodded, "Last question, I'm sorry…I have to ask it, but did Mr. Davis now or at any time in the past sexually abuse you."
"GET OUT!" Callen shouted… "Get your clipboard and get the fuck outta here!" he grabbed the jug of water beside the bed and threw it at the man who grabbed his stuff and stormed out.
Dalkin was down the hall and heard the commotion, "What the hell?" he swore and turned and ran down the corridor, Simon Stanley stood outside the room and wiped water off his jacket.
"Stupid boy doing a man's job," he snapped.
Dalkin pulled him up, "That boy did a great job and helped take down a serial killer."
"He threw a jug of water at me; I was only asking him questions." Stanley argued.
Dalkin grabbed the form, "What questions set him off?" He asked,
Stanley showed him the form.
"The last one." He said sadly.
Dalkin read down the form. "Dammit!" he cursed and looked at the man.
"Callen did everything as he was supposed to; we didn't think he'd recognized him after all those years. He put himself in harms way, faced his own fears so that no other kid would be sent to him, so that the kids who died, who had families would have closure to fine their loved ones." Dalkin argued.
"What about Callen, did his loved ones have any say in it?" Stanley asked as the door behind him opened.
"I don't have any." Callen snapped, he looked at Dalkin, "You got my clothes; I hear I'm needed in Siberia."
"Callen you need to heal."
"Bull, I'm fine, I aint bleeding and I aint dead, and If I die you'll have someone to take my place, right now I have to get the job done, so gimme my clothes." He snapped pulling the bag Dalkin offered out of his hand and slamming the door.
Stanley looked at Dalkin, "I'll make sure it goes in my report." He promised and left.
Dalkin opened the door and walked in, Callen was in the bathroom getting changed. He hadn't closed the door properly and Dalkin looked through the gap. He gasped quietly at the numerous scars and old burn marks on the kid's back. He'd talked to Callen's doctor discussing all the older breaks and fractures that had shown up in his x-rays he had managed to stop the doctor from reporting what to him were numerous cases of abuse. But until he saw the scars he'd had no idea how bad growing up could have been for this kid.
He heard Callen wince as he pulled the long sleeved t-shirt over his head and put his shoes on, he grabbed his wash stuff and put it back in his bag.
He walked with a slight limp over to the bed and eased himself onto it.
"You got me signed out yet?" Callen asked.
"You're not my responsibility any more Callen, your new handler is on the way." Dalkin said.
"Then why are you here?" Callen asked.
"I wanted to see if you were ok?" Dalkin asked, "Davis put you through a lot."
"So…what do you care, I did my job…and I did it well!" he stated stubbornly.
"Yeah you did kid, you did great." Dalkin said, "It was an honor working with you."
Callen smirked, "Sure it was."
Dalkin looked at him, "I have a son, he's eight, if he turns out anything like you I'll be proud." He said and turned and walked away.
Callen sat staring after him. He blinked back a few traitorous tears and waited for his new handler to turn up.
He sat unmoving for 20mins, then the door knocked.
"Agent Callen?" a woman looked around the corner.
Callen nodded once.
"I'm Agent Carter, your handler. I'm here to discharge you and escort you to your plane, where you will meet the other two members of your team." Callen stood up and picked up his bag hiding his pain.
"You are to be Dimitri Anatovich Lenkov, son of Anatoly Lenkov and Nadia Lenkov, you are to go with them as they move for Anatoly to take up his new job as foreman of a Russian oil pipeline, and your job is to provide cover and to get close to the Petrovitch family through the daughter Anya. She is 17 and impressionable, you are to use any and all means necessary to get her to let you into her family, he father has papers that prove that the Russians are selling drugs, weapons and other items to Eastern European crime families."
Callen nodded, looking at the file, "I'm going to need more stuff, Dimitri is a stuff kinda guy." He said.
"There are 3 suitcases of Dimitri's clothes in the back; also you have a walkman and a Russian American dictionary."
"I thought I was Russian?" Callen said confused.
Carter smiled, "You are American, and your parents are Russian, you were raised in America,"
Callen nodded, "Ok let's meet the parents." He said as the car pulled up at the Airport.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs, New NIS agent on his first undercover assignment sat in the Airport terminal with his new 'wife'. Still grieving over the loss of his real wife and daughter he had baulked when his boss, Mike Franks had volunteered him for this assignment just because he spoke Russian.
His wife was pretty enough, a redhead, thank God. Near his age and had nice blue eyes. She sat reading a magazine while they waited for the last member of their team an agent that looked young enough to play their son.
He looked up as the CIA car pulled up.
Agent Carter got out followed by a boy.
"Carter?" Gibbs asked confused, "I thought you were going to find a young Agent, this kid isn't old enough to join up."
"Agent Gibbs, Agent Johnson…My name is Callen." He said walking over to them.
Gibbs noticed he was injured.
"You alright?" he asked.
Callen moved away "I'm fine." He said, "I can do the job."
Gibbs looked at Carter for confirmation.
"Oh yeah, he can do the job alright." Carter said, She walked over out of Callen's earshot with Gibbs, "Don't sneak up on him, don't touch him, and don't trust him, it's in his files, Gibbs, you're a friend and I'm only telling you what I know, this kid is good, very good. He'll watch your back; he's been trained to die first if needed. But half his file is eyes only, I don't know what the powers that be are hiding, but I worry for you, you're a good friend."
"I'll watch out for the kid, don't worry." Gibbs promised.
Carter nodded and walked over to Callen. "Don't screw this up." She told him.
Callen glared at her and slunk over to his seat.
"Callen…" Gibbs sat next to him.
"I think you should just call me Dimitri don't you dad." Callen said with a slight Russian accent.
Gibbs nodded, "Very well Dimitri, do you need anything before we go." He asked realizing that he and Agent Johnson needed to get into character. "Nadia? Our son is hungry do you have any food for him?" Gibbs called across to his wife.
Nadia Johnson nodded, "Da. I will go and fetch it." She replied.
"I don't need food dad." Callen argued; his stomach was unsettled.
"It will help with the painkillers and the antibiotics." Gibbs said.
"What antibiotics?" Callen asked.
Gibbs handed him a small plastic container. "Carter said you left these at the hospital, didn't tell me about your last case kid, but if you wanna talk."
"No." Callen said.
Gibbs gave him his pills and a drink and a curt nod, "I won't push, just so you know that if you need anything you can ask me."
Callen nodded, "Thanks." He said downing the pills, and for once he meant it.