Hunted

HUNTED Chapter 3

Ops

Eric was on auto-pilot. He placed their suspect into kaleidoscope, in hope they found him soon. He also placed his image into the face recognition program, for a name and address.

His nerves were glittery, his heart torn in two. His best friend was dead—-caught up in the bitter feud between Callen and Janvier. He didn't blame Callen. He knew only two well, the games Janvier played. He wiped the stray tear from his cheek. He needed to focus and bring this apprentice and Janvier down.

The sliding doors whooshed opened. The small frame of Henrietta Lange entered, Owen Granger not far behind her. He saw the sadness in their eyes. The news had reached them.

"Where is Mr Callen and Mr Hanna, Eric?"

Her voice softened, she knew how close he had been with the Intelligence Analyst. He saw the grief in her own eyes, her shoulders slumped. Worry for her consumed him. Granger stood with his defences up. He didn't say a word—-he stood there with his legs apart and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hetty..." He was speechless. He felt the guilt that he hadn't been there to protect her from this.

She rested her ageing hand on his shoulder. "Eric."

He thought she was going to crumble there and then. But she heaved in a deep breath and returned to the stoic old spy he knew her to be.

"Where are they?"

"Sam took Callen to the morgue to confirm it's..."

She nodded and turned her attention to his computer screen.

"Any luck in finding this apprentice?"

"Not yet. I'm doing what I can."

She nodded. "I know you are. We are all feeling the grief. We need to find justice for her, before this man does this again."

A shiver ran down Eric's back. Who would the apprentice take next? Him? Kensi? Hetty? He swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. He nodded and returned his focus on finding this man. When he looked over his shoulder, he found himself alone again. Alone. That's what it would be for him until they replaced her. He didn't want a replacement, he wanted Nell back. He shook his head to remove all thoughts of her and focused on his job at hand.

The Morgue

Callen was in uncharted waters, going in to identify his wife's body. He bit on the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. Rose walked out, news had reached her that someone on their team had been kidnapped and killed.

"I'm sorry." Her voice soft, her words few. Even years of experience, never prepared her to deal with people she knew. It was personal, and she'd taken her time and care when dealing with her latest victim.

"He severed her carotid artery in her neck. The wound was deep. She bled out fast and had a quick death."

Rose understood she had to tell them the facts, although she saw their grief. She hoped what she found would give them some form of comfort. However, the lack of colour in Callen's face had her worried the most. Sam was being strong for his partner. Then it hit her. Something had been going on between Nell and Callen.

She pulled Callen in for a hug. "I'm so sorry."

She stepped back and shifted around the room. She pulled the drawer out and lifted the sheet. Callen's breath hitched. He looked to Sam, who shook his head.

"This isn't Nell. Where are the items found on her body?" Sam's question led Rose across the room.

Callen held onto the wall beside him. Nell was alive. But for how long? He took in deep breaths to keep himself from collapsing. He needed some air. He walked out of the morgue into the sunlight, filling his lungs with the fresh air. The stale air of the morgue smelled of death. Even with the air-conditioning running twenty-four hours a day, it was hard to disguise the decomposition of rotting bodies. His rage burst through. The games had returned. Janvier was back at playing sans voir with him. He hated this game with a vengeance.