Well, this is the end. I've had so much fun; I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think-I appreciate it! I wanted to write a story that could actually be an episode (or two). Thanks to everyone who's "followed" or selected "favorite"-as a first time author, it means a lot to know that people like your work. Again, thanks and I'm looking forward to writing more.

Hetty sat in her chair and poured a finger of her finest scotch for herself and Granger. They toasted and then savored the liquor and the safe extraction of their team members from Belarus.

"Mr. Hanna called as soon as they cleared Belarusian airspace," Hetty said with obvious relief.

"Everyone's okay then?"

"Mr. Callen is in poor shape, so I've been told," Hetty answered dryly, "but Mr. Hanna and Ms. Kolcheck are both fine."

"They had permission to enter Lithuanian and Polish airspace?" Granger asked.

"Absolutely. They gave their permission as soon as they learned the nature of the mission."

"That's good," Granger said and each took a sip of their drinks.

"It is," Hetty agreed. "If they hadn't, . . . ." Hetty didn't need to finish her thought. Granger knew that if either government had refused permission, it would have answered to Henrietta Lange—and political relations be damned. When her people were in trouble, Hetty expected everyone to help or to get the hell out of her way.

"When do they leave Ramstein?"

"That depends entirely on Mr. Callen's condition and the doctor's evaluation," Hetty said. "Although extensive, Mr. Hanna doesn't believe that any of Mr. Callen's injuries are life-threatening or severe enough to prevent his being transported expeditiously."

"Will they be coming into Edwards or Pendleton?"

"Pendleton."

Granger paused a moment. "What about Callen's father?"

"That," Hetty said with solemnity and a lowered voice, "is another matter."

Granger understood and silently finished his drink.

The Black Hawk touched down at Lask Air Base in Poland at 4:16 am to refuel. As soon as the chopper landed, Sam jumped out and made a quick trip to the commissary to pick up some energy bars and water for the remainder of their trip to Ramstein. That leg of the trip would be another six hours, and although they would all sleep some of that time, it had been almost 10 hours since any of them had had a substantial meal. They'd all need some nourishment before they arrived.

When they arrived at Ramstein a little over six hours later, all of them had drunk two liters of water, and Sam and Garrison had eaten two bars while Anna had eaten one. Once the Black Hawk's propellers stopped, a medical team rushed to help the medic on board transport G to the hospital ward. The others descended from the chopper and followed them inside the ward. They watched as the team wheeled G into a room to be attended by physicians, and a warrant officer approached them.

"Special Agent Hanna?"

"Yes," Sam answered as he turned to face the officer.

"Special Agent Callen is being examined and his condition evaluated, and if the doctors determine that his condition permits, you're scheduled to depart on a transport to Pendleton later tonight." He paused and smiled, "Evidently, someone wants you home in a hurry."

"And I think I know who, Warrant Officer," Sam answered with a smile.

"If you'd like to get some rest and maybe some food, we have quarters prepared, and I can escort you to the mess." As all three showed a reluctance to leave the ward, he continued, "I'll notify you as soon as the doctors have completed their evaluation, Special Agent Hanna."

Sam looked at both Anna and Garrison and then turned to the officer, "That sounds good. I think we could all do with some rest, and I know I'd appreciate a good meal."

With that, the three of them turned and followed the officer out of the ward, and in the examination room, the doctors continued to assess G's condition.

A few hours later, Sam returned to the ward and searched for the doctor. He found him as he exited a patient's room.

"Doctor Thompson?"

The doctor finished his notes on his tablet and looked up. "Special Agent Hanna," he said as he put out a hand and gave Sam a firm handshake. "Let me guess, you want to know the result of our examination of Special Agent Callen."

"I do."

As the doctor and Sam walked back to the nurse's station, the doctor had a question. "What exactly happened to Agent Callen? His injuries are not consistent with normal combat action."

Sam answered the question but kept the information to a minimum, "He was captured and interrogated."

"I see," the doctor nodded as he scrolled through G's medical information. "Does this happen often in his position as an NCIS Special Agent? His medical records are rather extensive."

"It happens more than it should, doctor," Sam admitted. He waited for the doctor to continue. "How is he?"

"He'll live—but for how long, is up to him. You're his partner, Agent Hanna?"

"I am."

"Then I'll be honest: if Agent Callen doesn't take better care of himself—and by that I mean avoiding traumatic events such as being shot, beaten, and general physical abuse—I'm not sure that he'll live to see 10 more years. The body can only be subjected to so many traumas before it can no longer repair itself."

Sam felt his anger—at himself and at G—growing. He had told G countless times to take care of himself, but G didn't listen. And Sam was angry with himself because he hadn't followed through, he hadn't been insistent enough, hadn't nagged G enough, hadn't done enough. Dom, and how Sam could have done more to prepare him for this work, filled his mind. Sure, G had years of experience—more than any of them on the team—but his body had also suffered years of abuse, and unlike Sam, whose SEAL training had prepared him for the rigors of war and enemy action, G's "training" had been in foster homes where he had endured physical and emotional trauma and neglect for years. And now it was catching up with him. And if G didn't make a conscious effort to take better care of his body, his prediction—jokingly made years ago—that he'd be killed on the job before his body gave out, might not come true. His body might give out first. But not on Sam's watch. He wasn't prepared to work with another partner now or in five years or in ten years. Sam had a partner, and he was going to do everything he could—everything he needed to do—to make sure G remained his partner until they both decided it was time to retire.

The doctor continued, "That being said, Agent Callen will be ready for transport tonight. It's my professional opinion that returning to his home environment as soon as possible will benefit his recovery. None of his injuries—in and of themselves—are life-threatening, and a medic will accompany him to ensure that his condition is monitored."

"Thank you, doctor," and Sam shook his hand again, "for letting us continue home and for your frank evaluation."

"No need to thank me, Agent Hanna. It's my job." He gave Sam a look that said he'd given far too many of these evaluations during his career, and then turned to check in on other patients. Sam walked over to G's bed. He was still sedated and connected to an IV, but Sam was glad that they would be going home. That's where they needed to be. He left G sleeping and went to tell Anna and Garrison that they'd be leaving tonight.

Early the next morning, Hetty called Kensi and Deeks into Ops and then sent everyone out except Nell and Eric.

"Mr. Beale, please secure OPS," she said and waited until the room had been secured from outside surveillance before continuing. "Nothing said in this room today leaves this room. Is that understood?" She surveyed everyone and her expression was one of absolute seriousness.

"Understood," Kensi and Deeks said in unison.

"Absolutely understood," Nell answered.

"Ditto," Eric offered following Nell's response.

Satisfied, Hetty continued. "Good. Assistant Director Granger has already been briefed." Hetty paused and then continued, "I spoke with Mr. Hanna earlier today. He spoke with Mr. Callen, and they agreed that the following information should be shared with the entire team. Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna, and Ms. Kolcheck will be arriving at Pendleton today."

There was a general sense of relief expressed by everyone in the room and smiles appeared on their faces. Hetty did not smile as she continued.

"Mr. Callen's condition, while not life-threatening, will require that he be out for an extended period for recuperation." There was absolute silence at this announcement and they all waited for Hetty to continue. "The method of Mr. Callen's escape is not to be disclosed; it is absolutely essential—for his continued safety and for the continued safety of his father—that this rescue operation not be known by anyone outside of this room."

Kensi caught her breath, "Callen's father got out?"

"Yes. As you know, Mr. Callen's abduction was an attempt by the Russian government to recapture his father and return him to prison. However, Mr. Hanna and Ms. Kolcheck were able—with his father's assistance—to rescue Mr. Callen and provide plausible evidence that Mr. Callen escaped on his own and that, during that escape, his father was killed."

Hetty paused again and when she continued, her voice revealed her frustration, "Someone in our office leaked Mr. Callen's identity to our Russian counterparts. Until this individual is discovered and apprehended, there must be no mention of Mr. Callen's father and no mention of the role of Mr. Hanna or Ms. Kolcheck in his rescue. If any suggestion that Mr. Callen's father is alive should surface, this scenario may very well repeat itself—and both Mr. Callen and his father may not survive." She looked at the faces of everyone in the room. This was not the first time they had been asked to maintain secrecy for the safety of one of their own. They had never failed to do so, and they would not fail now. And Hetty knew that there was a renewed urgency in finding the person responsible for leaking G's information. Until they did, none of them were safe.

It was almost two weeks before Russian intelligence sent agents to Belarus to check on Sergey's operation. By that time, the Belarusian authorities had begun an investigation and had determined that there had been six men at the old air base, of whom five had been killed, and one had escaped in a third vehicle. The Russians requested a viewing of the victims to determine if any were Russian citizens, and after their examination, the agents determined that one of the victims was, in fact, Nikita Reznikov. The result of their examination in addition to the message intercepted from American intelligence notifying their embassy in Lithuania that an American citizen would be crossing into Lithuania from Belarus, satisfied the pencil pushers in the intelligence office that they could finally close the file on Nikita Reznikov and move on to more important matters.

Sam pulled the van into G's driveway and parked behind his house. Once parked, he moved to the back and helped G out and then supported him—much to G's annoyance—to his house. Anna and Garrison followed them. Inside, the group was greeted by Hetty, Arkady, and Michelle. G tried to hide his discomfort at being the center of attention but was entirely unsuccessful. Arkady, as usual, felt no discomfort or embarrassment and welcomed all of them with genuine fondness.

"Callen, it is good to have you home, old friend!" and when he moved to give G a hug, Sam stiff-armed him with a smile.

"When he's feeling a little better, Arkady."

"Of course," and then Arkady turned immediately to Anna, his arms open wide. "Anna!"

She rolled her eyes but did not avoid his embrace, "Hello, Arkady." He then moved to get her something to drink or eat. Garrison stood just inside the kitchen, and after Anna said hello to Michelle and fixed herself a glass of water, Arkady went to greet Garrison.

He spoke to him in Russian, "It's good to see you after all these years."

Garrison took Arkady's hand, "And you. It's been a long time." Arkady then continued as host and introduced Garrison to Michelle and offered drinks all around.

Sam helped Callen to the sofa and Hetty came over to sit beside him. She looked up at him and smiled. "Welcome home, Mr. Callen."

G looked at her and smiled easily, although still obviously in pain, "It's good to be home, Hetty, but you didn't need to come—and bring everyone with you."

"Oh, but I did, Mr. Callen," she replied as she turned to Sam, who was greeting Michelle with a hug and a kiss. "Mr. Hanna, would you join us for just a moment, please?" Sam walked over to the sofa, and smiled at Hetty.

"Thank you for getting us home so quickly, Hetty."

"I can't have my team spread out all over the world, Mr. Hanna. Not when there's work to be done here, so bringing you home quickly could be considered rather selfish on my part."

"Even so, thank you."

"You're welcome. But that's not the reason I want to talk with you, Mr. Hanna. I want to tell you that I expect you to ensure that Mr. Callen follows the advice of his doctors and commits to a schedule of rest and recuperation."

G started to complain, but Sam interrupted him and waved for Michelle to come join them.

"Already ahead of you, Hetty." Michelle stood by Sam, smiled at Hetty, and then gave G that 'don't mess with me' look. Sam continued, "I've enlisted Michelle to help me keep G on track with his rest and recuperation."

G's expression was one of total betrayal as he listened to his partner outline his plan for the next few weeks. Hetty, on the other hand, was immensely pleased with Sam's total commitment to G's recovery.

"First, I'm taking the key to G's car so that he will be unable to make any unnecessary trips during his recuperative process. Michelle or I will be taking to him to all of his doctor appointments and receiving full updates on his progress. Michelle will also be checking on him spontaneously during the day, to ensure that he is, in fact, not engaging in any behavior that would interfere with his recovery. And I will be providing nutritious meals to speed his recovery."

"I think that must be illegal or something," G complained, but no one was listening.

"Excellent, Mr. Hanna," Hetty said with satisfaction as she stood up. "And now, I think, Mr. Callen should get some rest."

"Agree," Sam said as he helped G off the sofa and to his bedroom.

Arkady, seeing that G was leaving, went to say goodbye, "Callen, it's good to have you home—honestly."

"Thanks, Arkady. It's good to be home—honestly."

"If you need anything, just call."

G smiled and winked at him, "I may just do that."

Sam, still supporting G, looked at Arkady sharply, "While G's under my care, Arkady, you are not to do anything he asks unless you clear it with me first. Understood?"

Arkady held up his hands in a show of surrender, "Understood." And then when Sam's back was turned, he smiled and used the hand signal for "call me." When Arkady turned back to say goodbye to the others, Hetty was glaring at him. "Henrietta?"

"Arkady, I don't want you calling Mr. Callen or answering any of his calls while he's recovering. Is that understood?"

"What? You don't think I care about Callen?"

"No contact with Mr. Callen while he's recovering," Hetty stated plainly as Anna moved next to Arkady. "I know where you live."

"Don't worry, Hetty. I'll make sure he leaves Callen alone."

"Okay, okay. I won't contact Callen," Arkady said and then looked from Hetty to Anna. "I'm hurt that you think I don't care about Callen."

"Arkady," Hetty said, "I'm sure you care about Mr. Callen. You just have a way of getting him involved in situations that are not, shall we say, in his best interests."

"Perhaps," he shrugged, "but not now. I promise." Then he smiled and took his leave, bowing slightly to Hetty. "Do svidaniya, everyone."

Sam returned after helping G into bed and he and Michelle also said their good nights. "See you tomorrow, Hetty?"

"Oh no, Mr. Hanna. Take tomorrow off. I'm sure the jet lag will hit once you lie down."

"Thank you, Hetty." Sam then turned and said good night to Anna and Garrison. "Good night, Anna. It was good working with you."

"It was good, Sam," Anna replied smiling. "I can see why Callen values you as his partner."

"Good night, Garrison. I know G is happy that you've come home with him."

"Thank you, Sam, for all you've done."

"I'll see you around. Please call us if you need anything."

After Sam and Michelle left, Hetty came up to Garrison and introduced herself, "Mr. Reznikov, I'm Henrietta Lange. It's good to finally meet you."

Garrison smiled and took her hand, "It's good to finally meet you, as well. I know how much you have done for Grisha throughout his life. Thank you."

"I knew his mother, Clara, your wife. She was a lovely young woman."

"Yes, she was."

"Perhaps later we can have a cup of tea together and talk. I'm sure you must have many questions."

"As I'm sure you must. I would enjoy that."

"Good night, Mr. Reznikov. I'm so glad you're here with Mr. Callen." And with that, she and Garrison shook hands and then she walked out.

Only Anna and Garrison were left. There was a pause, and then Anna said, "Let me show you to the other bedroom."

Garrison followed her down the hall past G's room, and then into the guest bedroom. The futon was made up and there was a small chest. "He leaves the futon made up in case Sam ever needs a place to sleep," Anna said with a smile. "I'll lock up. I'm just going to say good night to Callen."

"Good night, Anna. Thank you."

Anna smiled and walked back to G's room. The door was open a crack, but she pushed it open more and went inside. The room was cool and dark. She walked around the bed to G who was asleep. She gently kissed his forehead and then turned to go. When she reached the door, he spoke.

"You're not staying?" he asked quietly.

"The doctor said you need your rest."

"Rest is only one of the things I need." He paused; she didn't move. "I'm hurt, but I'm not dead."

"You need sleep."

"I have hours of sleep ahead of me."

"I might hurt you."

"Only if you don't stay."

She walked back to the other side of the bed and slipped her clothes off. She slid in beside him. Her fingers moved across his body and felt the bandage on his shoulder and the sutures where Sam had cut him.

"Be gentle," he whispered as he smoothed her hair and let his hands trace the curve of her shoulder, the contour of her waist, the softness of her breast. She melted into him and he felt the small of her back, the firmness of her buttocks, the strength of her thighs. "I dreamed about you in Belarus," he said and then she kissed him.

Later that night, when she nestled against his chest that rose rhythmically with his breath as he slept, Anna opened her eyes. She lifted her head gently and looked at G: his face was kind and strong and, at this moment, peaceful. Anna smiled, settled back, and whispered to herself, "Grisha Alexandrovich Nikolaev Callen, you'll be a wonderful father." And then she fell asleep.