Today we present the first story of our Fan Fiction Contest
The ‘Tie’ that Binds by justdreaming-83
“G. How many of those things are you going to eat?” Sam asked his partner who was leaned back in the passenger’s seat of the Challenger. Callen shrugged and pulled the Tootsie Roll Pop out of his mouth with an exaggerated smack.
“I don’t know. How many you got?” Sam snorted and shook his head in disbelief, watching Callen flip open the glove compartment and begin taking inventory of the candy stash. “What?” Callen responded defensively. “We’ve been sitting in this car for almost four hours. I’m hungry.”
“That’s what you get for having only sugared up coffee for breakfast this morning.” Callen felt one of Sam’s lectures coming on. (Probably pulled from a procedure manual that he had penned himself; color coded tabs and all.) Callen scowled, stuck the orange sucker back in his mouth and turned to face the passenger’s window.
“G, you’ve been doing this long enough to know you need to eat a healthy meal before a stakeout.” Here it comes. “And besides, how long do you expect to survive on a diet consisting of mostly beer and doughnuts? You don’t eat right, you don’t sleep, your workouts are sporadic.”
Callen glared at his partner out of the corner of his eye. “Really? You’re going to go there again? I’m healthy enough to keep up with you.” Callen flinched, immediately regretting his last statement. He had just practically challenged his huge, muscular partner who was possibly the fittest man in America. Not good.
Sam chuckled. “You … keep up with me?” The chuckling came harder now. “I’ll tell you what. Here’s a little challenge while we sit here. You get to ask me anything about my past. If I refuse to answer, or don’t answer fully, I buy you a steak dinner, every Friday night for a month. Then I’ll ask you a question. If I’m not satisfied with your answer, you work out with me every day for a month.”
The smaller agent continued peering toward the block they had under surveillance. “I don’t know, Sam. There are some things I don’t like to think about, much less talk about.” He paused to bring the binoculars up to his eyes, taking a closer look at a group of men who were crossing the street. He lowered the binoculars and tried to ignore his partner staring at the back of his head.
Sensing his friend’s resistance, Sam let out a snort. “Chicken.” Callen shifted in his seat, sat up a little taller and raised the bucket seat to an upright position. Noting the sudden change in the senior agent’s posture, Sam had to fight back a smile. “Look at it this way G, it’ll make the time pass faster.”
Callen could think of a lot of things he’d like to do to pass the time while on a marathon stakeout; answering personal questions about his past was not one of them. “Alright,” he finally said. “But it’s steak for two months and I go first.”
“Deal.”
Callen hesitated, bit down on his lower lip, and then faced his opponent. Sam was sure he saw a hint of regret in his partner’s eyes just before he spoke. “Okay, Sam. When you were young … did you ever get into any kind of trouble?”
“You mean did I do anything illegal?” Callen nodded, almost apologetically. Sam peered down at the side mirror and ran his hand over the top of his head. “I was part of a gang when I was a teenager. It wasn’t so much that I went out looking for a gang to join, trying to belong or anything like that. Where I grew up … it was a matter of survival. Or at least that’s what it felt like at the time.”
Callen lowered his head, not quite comfortable with the vulnerability he had triggered by his question. Sam continued. “Where I lived, you were either the aggressor or you were a victim. I did some things I’m not proud of but I was never arrested. Got out when I was seventeen.”
“What made you get out?”
“My younger brother was killed in a drive by. He was just twelve.” Sam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It was my gang. Competition had moved in and they were flexing their muscles; marking their territory. My little brother was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Callen turned and stared at the building beside him, trying to blink away the moisture in his eyes before his partner could notice. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do. I had a mentor. His name was Donny Stanton. He was part of the Big Brothers organization. All I could think about was avenging my brother’s death. But Donny didn’t give up on me. He convinced me that I had a purpose in life that my purpose would never be fulfilled if I didn’t pull myself out of that pit I had fallen in to. I relocated, eventually joined the Navy, and you pretty much know the rest.”
There was a long pause while Callen processed what he had just heard. Sam then turned his attention to Callen. “Okay, G. My turn.” Callen squirmed.
Their little challenge was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Kensi’s voice in their earwigs. “Callen? Do I have your permission to kill Deeks?”
Callen touched his earpiece. “Kenz. You’ll have to run that by Hetty. I don’t have the authority.”
“Then I’m calling Hetty.”
“Deeks. What did you do this time?” Callen asked.
“Nothing!” the young detective replied, his voice an octave too high.
The female agent proceeded to plead her case. “He’s driving me crazy! He has practically ripped my car apart looking for something to eat!” Sam and Callen looked at each other and smiled. “He swears I have a package of Peanut Butter Cups somewhere in here.”
“I know she does,” Deeks piped up. “I can smell them. She always hides them from me just to torture me. She knows I’m starving to death.”
Callen’s eyes twinkled with mischief and his smile broadened. “Kensi. Sam has suckers. Want to trade partners?”
“Would you really? I’d be forever in your debt.” Callen looked at Sam with his signature crooked smirk.
“Oh, no!” Sam barked. “That is not happening.” Then he glared dangerously at G and spoke where only the two of them could hear. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this that easily.” The senior agent’s smirk was now replaced with a frown.
Kensi huffed into their earpieces. “Guys. Are we even sure we’re watching the right block?”
“Kensi has a point,” Deeks agreed. “This just seems too public for a weapons deal.”
Callen did not respond. Sam guessed he was either sulking or desperately trying to come up with another plan for escaping the challenge question awaiting him. The corners of Sam’s lips twitched a few times before he addressed his younger coworkers. “Our Intel says Anderson’s meeting someone in this area today. Just hang on you two. And try not to kill each other. We don’t have time to call in for your replacements.”
“Hang on how much longer?” Deeks whined. “Cause I think I have to pee.”
“Deeks!” Kensi yelled, causing both Callen and Sam to jump, grabbing their now painful ears.
It was apparent that the communication between the two vehicles was halted for the time being. Callen sat silently, hoping Sam would drop the whole question thing. He cautiously turned his eyes toward the driver’s side of the car. Sam looked like a tiger ready to pounce. He rubbed his hands together and gave his partner an eager, ‘now let’s get back to business’ look. Callen’s shoulders sagged a little, he slumped deeper into his seat, and then let out a slow, resigned breath. “Ask away.”
“Okay, G. How did you get that scar on your chin?”
“What?” Callen brought his palm to his lower jaw. “How do you even see that?”
“G. I’ve seen you clean shaven. And even with your beard, you have certain expressions … well, it just shows sometimes.” Several seconds passed. “You’ve got three minutes.”
Callen shrugged. “I don’t know. I fell when I was a kid,” was his simple response, an obvious attempt to downplay the incident.
Not convinced, Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Two minutes and forty seven seconds.” Still nothing.
“Callen! Sam!” Kensi’s voice suddenly broke the silence. “I think Anderson just passed our car. Tan pants. Dark green shirt.”
Callen snapped to high alert. “Did you get a photo?”
“Sending it to Eric now. Wait … there are four guys right behind him. I think they’re with him.”
Sam and Callen simultaneously exited the car. Callen leaned back against the Challenger, crossing one foot over the other. Then he casually reached up and touched his earwig. “Where are they Kenz? We don’t have eyes on them yet.”
“They stopped. I think they’re making sure they aren’t being followed.”
“Whoa!” Deeks exclaimed. “Two of these guys are ginormous! Bigger than Sam. I reeeally, reeeally hope these aren’t our bad guys.”
Callen’s tone was now more urgent. “Eric? Talk to me.”
“Working on it.”
“Callen. They’re headed your way,” Kensi reported. “And…you’re not going to believe who just showed up. Looks like Victor Westerman may be our supplier. They all stopped in front of the third building down. Thirty One Seventeen… No…They’re going inside.”
“Yeah. I see them now,” Callen said. “Eric?”
“Callen,” the computer tech responded. “Positive ID on Anderson. Nothing on the others yet.”
Nell’s voice cut in. “Guys. The address Kensi gave is an old office building. It was purchased seven months ago by Westco Enterprises, one of Victor Westerman’s questionable companies. It’s been under renovation but looks like the construction was recently halted. The contractors are tied up in some legal issues over building codes and worker safety. The good news is that there shouldn’t be anyone else in the building.”
“Schematics, Eric?” Callen asked.
“Yeah. But they are prior to renovation. We have no way of knowing what it looks like now. I can tell you that it has five stories, and four entrances: front, east side, and two in back. I’ve pulled up the best camera angle we have and it looks like the back entrances are blocked with a couple of industrial size dumpsters.”
Callen pushed away from the side of the car and began taking quick steps toward the office building. “Kensi. You and Deeks take the side door. Sam and I will take the front. Eric. Tell Hetty we need back up on standby.”
“Will do. Oh…and Hetty said to remind you that we need to try to bring these guys in alive. She’s hoping to use them to catch the bigger fish.” Even with the element of surprise on their side, Hetty’s elite team of four was outnumbered. And keeping these scumbags alive was not going to make this any easier.
Kensi and Deeks made it to the side entrance. Kensi removed the tiny pack of tools from her front pocket and began working on the lock. It took only a couple of minutes and she gently turned the door knob. With their weapons now in hand, the pair stood on each side of the doorframe, and slowly pushed open the solid steel door. After quietly stepping inside, Kensi touched her ear. “We’re in,” she whispered. Then, like a well-rehearsed dance, she and her partner began a systematic, room to room search.
With his SIG drawn, Sam peered through a hole in the brown paper that covered the front doors of the building. Callen crouched down, selected the right pick from his leather pouch, and began working free the lock. After that old familiar click, he pocketed his pick set, reached behind him, and slid his weapon from his waist holster. On Sam’s signal, they slipped inside and joined in the search.
By the time the team had cleared the front rooms, Eric had notified them that backup was on the way. “Callen. LAPD is sending four uniforms. They’ll be there in five. They’ll be posted at both exits.”
Kensi was the first to hear voices coming from a back room. She stopped, held up her index finger, and the other three team members froze in place. After a brief pause, she pointed to the last room on the left. The team silently moved into position. When they received the message from Eric that backup was in place, Sam counted to three, kicked in the door, the ‘federal agents’ announcement was shouted, and that’s when it all broke loose.
One of the men that had come with Anderson drew his gun. Sam shot him in the shoulder and then kicked the gun away. Deeks wrestled another bad guy to the floor. While Kensi was busy fighting it out with Anderson, one of the musclemen aimed his gun at her and was fatally shot by Callen. Now, with one injured and one dead, the team was evenly matched; except for the fact that the remaining ‘ginormous’ guy was still in the mix. He had bolted and was on his way up the stairs with Callen hot on his trail.
Westerman ran from the room and also began scurrying up the staircase. Sam followed, dodging a few bullets meant for him. On his way up he caught a glimpse of a pistol on one of the steps; not his partner’s government issued SIG so the gigantic guy must have dropped it on his way up. That should help.
Deeks had succeeded in subduing his suspect and was in the process of cuffing him when he witnessed his partner take a pretty hard blow to her stomach. That’s all it took for the slender female agent to step it up a notch. Anderson never saw the round kick coming that connected with the side of his head and he now lay in a stupor while having his wrists, rather roughly, zip tied behind him. Kensi got to her feet and was leaned over, her hands resting on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. Deeks peered down at Anderson and shook his head in mock pity. “That’ll teach you to mess with my partner.” Kensi looked up at the blonde detective and smiled.
Sam soon returned to the first floor with a handcuffed, and somewhat disheveled, Westerman. “Here’s another one for your collection.” He quickly surveyed the scene. “Get these guys out of here. See if LAPD will assist with transportation.” There was a sudden crash from the story above them. “This one needs an ambulance,” he said, tilting his head toward the guy with the gunshot wound to the shoulder. After another loud crash from the second floor, Sam looked up at the ceiling. “I gotta go help G. He’s up there with Godzilla.” Sam took off toward the stairs, leaving Kensi and Deeks in charge of ‘clean up.’
Sam reached the second floor just in time to see Callen being slammed against the wall, and the weapon he was holding in his left hand come flying across the room. Sam quickly concluded that his partner must have injured his dominant hand. The bad guy spotted Sam and ran to the far end of the room to where the flooring structure was not complete. He jumped down to the scaffold a few feet below. Callen disappeared through the opening in the floor, as well. Sam hurried over and peered down at his partner who was now climbing down the scaffolding, struggling much more than he should. Sam could not determine the extent of his partner’s injuries from this distance, but he was not in good shape.
Hoping to get to the ground floor before the bad guy could inflict any more damage, Sam jumped to the platform of the scaffolding and then dropped to the solid floor below. He could not believe how quickly things had turned from bad to worse. Callen was lying on the cement floor, flat on his back, with the bad guy’s huge foot firmly planted on his chest. Callen’s eyes were fearful, looking up at the large pipe that was about to be used to smash into his head. Sam aimed his weapon. Bang! Bang! Bang! In the blink of an eye, the ex-Navy SEAL had met his target.
Callen lie frozen, eyes still trained on the massive form above him, watching the man who was now clutching his chest. The man swayed and stepped off of Callen’s torso. Then he stumbled back, his massive body colliding with a beam, and he fell to the floor with a thud. Before the agents had time to collect their thoughts, there was a loud creak above them. It was immediately followed by a slow groan of shifting metal. Then came the deafening sound of steel, sheetrock, wood, and glass crashing down on top of them. Suddenly it felt like all of the air was forcefully pulled from the room and everything went dark.
It took Sam a couple of minutes to process what had just happened; it seemed surreal. The dust started to settle, not only making it easier to breathe, but now light from the upper story windows was beginning to break through. Callen! He knew by moving from his location, he risked causing another cave in. But he needed to find his partner. Sam closed his eyes for a moment, willing his heart to stop pounding so fast and so hard. “Sam?” Kensi’s voice sounded in his earpiece.
“Yeah.”
“Are you guys okay?”
“I’m okay. I’m about to look for G.”
“Suspect?”
“Dead.”
“Help’s on the way, Sam.”
With most of the dust now dissipated, there was enough light filtering in to begin his search. Sam slowly made his way to where he thought he had last seen his friend, careful not disturb any remaining support structure. When he neared the other side of the room, he could hear Callen’s quick, strained breathing. Sam removed a large piece of sheetrock that was leaning against a metal post. There lay Callen, his blue eyes blinking up owlishly. “Sam?” His voice was weak and raspy. “What happened?’
Sam knelt down beside him. “Part of the second floor caved in.”
Callen began scanning Sam for injuries and his eyes narrowed when he reached his right shoulder. Sam looked down to find a fairly large cut in his upper arm. “G. It’s alright. Just needs a few stitches. I can’t even feel it.” Callen nodded and closed his eyes. “How ’bout you?” Sam asked. “Where are you hurt?”
Callen shook his head. “I’m good.”
Kensi’s voice once again was heard. “Sam. Did you find Callen?”
“Yeah, Kensi. He’s a little banged up. But he’s awake and talking to me.”
“Thank God. The fire department just got here. And EMS. They’ve contacted the contractor and he should be here soon.”
Callen sucked in a quick breath and grimaced. Sam shifted to the side a few inches, allowing more light to reach his partner’s body. Callen had scrapes and cuts on his face and a gash above his right eyebrow. His forearms and hands were smeared with blood and his shirt was bloody and torn. It was hard to tell which injuries were sustained from the building collapse and which ones were from the beating he endured earlier.
Pain once again flashed across Callen’s face. “Talk to me, G. Where do you hurt?” Callen turned his head, avoiding his partner’s gaze. “Alright,” Sam warned. “You know you’re headed to the hospital when they get us out of here. You could save yourself a lot of poking and prodding from the doctors if you’d go ahead and tell me.”
Still looking to the side, Callen scowled like a pouting child. It was all Sam could do to keep from smiling. “Let’s start with your head, G. Concussion?” Callen shook his head. “Anything broken?” Callen glanced up at Sam for a moment and then looked away. “Your right hand?” No response. “Arm?” Callen nodded. “Some broken ribs?” Another nod. “Anything else?” Callen looked back at Sam and shook his head. “Now. See. Was that so hard?” But in reality, Sam knew that it was that hard. G Callen hated being made over more than anyone he had ever known.
“Sam.”
“Tell me something good, Kensi.”
“The contractor says there is a door on the west side, close to where you are. It’s been sealed off for years. They’re getting some equipment to remove the brick so you’re going to hear some noise. Should take less than an hour… Sam, can Callen hear me? Can I talk to him?”
Sam reached down, cupped Callen’s chin with his palm, and pushed his head to the side. Callen furrowed his brow, confused as to why his partner was examining the side of his head. “He can’t hear you, Kensi. Earwig must have gotten knocked out… Kenz … he’s gonna be alright. We’ll see you soon.”
Releasing his grasp of Callen’s jaw, Sam caught a glimpse of the scar. “Oooh, yeah.” He lightly ran his index finger along his partner’s chin. “You never answered.” Callen just turned his head away. “I‘m gonna enjoy being your personal trainer for a month, G. Those six mile runs are gonna to be rough with those sore ribs. Not to mention getting up at 5:00am and those daily trips to the gym.”
“Alright,” Callen said, now reverting back to his pouting face. After a moment, Callen’s eyes narrowed and he instinctively rubbed his jawline with a shaky hand, his thoughts being swept back in time. “It was the night Jason, my foster brother, died,” he said softly. “Our foster dad was drunk. When he was sober, he wasn’t so bad. But when he drank, he was paranoid and violent. He thought I’d taken some money off of his nightstand. He’d given it to our foster mom to buy cigarettes and just didn’t remember. He started slapping me around. I was sort of small for my age so they … he would usually come after me first. Easy target I guess.” Sam could see tears forming in his partner’s eyes. Part of him wanted to tell Callen it was okay to stop.
After a short pause, Callen continued. “He kept hitting me, trying to make me say I had taken the twenty four dollars. Finally, he got so angry he shoved me down the basement stairs. I hit my chin on one of the steps.” Callen closed his eyes. He drew in a shaky breath, causing him to grimace from the sharp pain in his ribs. “I guess Jason was afraid he wouldn’t stop because when our foster dad started down the stairs to get me, Jason said he took the money.” Callen shook his head and whispered, “I should have just said I did it.”
Sam placed his palm on Callen’s shoulder but did not speak. In fact, neither man spoke the remainder of the time while they waited to be extracted from the rubble. They silently reflected on what the other had shared today. Although it was not his intention when proposing the challenge, Sam knew that the bonds of their partnership had been strengthened.
An hour later, Callen had been placed on a gurney and was ready to be loaded into the ambulance for his much dreaded trip to the hospital. Sam was about to be led away to have his shoulder wound tended to when Callen reached up and weakly grasped his wrist. Sam bent down closer to his battered partner. “The challenge,” Callen whispered. “… a tie?”
Sam sighed. “Yeah,” he affirmed with a nod. “A tie.”
Now suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Callen smiled tiredly and closed his eyes.
The End
