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Leon Vance ([info]leon_vance) wrote in [info]omega_reality,
@ 2011-05-18 15:11:00

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Entry tags:*complete, 2011 05, character: g callen, character: robert callen, dead: henrietta lange, dead: leon vance

RP: Meeting at Leon's
Who: Leon, Hetty, G and Robert
Where: Leon's office
When: May 18, 2011
Summary: Leon wants to know if the man is lying or not.

Leon had told Hetty to come back with the new arrival that same night. What he hadn't expected was the information about a possible blood relation with Callen. The man was either a competent liar or a relative. Leon was more interested in the first one, but the second would have an impact on his team. Like it or not, Callen's mysterious past had always affected the agency. That meant that they needed to find a way to prove or disprove the man story.

There was research involved, and Ms. Jones proved very useful once again. Then, Hetty had to do some of her accounting magic, and in less than forty-eight hours they were the proud owners of a rapid DNA machine. Leon had read about them before arriving to the Omega dimension. The federal government had made an agreement with a company to make portable rapid DNA machines that any officer or agent could use. It would cut down on lab time, mistakes, and terrorists slipping through, especially considering that most of the machines would go to the airports. The Omega government had done the same thing, except that they were more common here, which mean a less scandalous tag price. Still, Leon wasn't in a rush to get more. He wanted to genetically test anyone that they might arrest just as much as he wanted to test these two men, but he had no options.

With OSP ready to return, he called Hetty and Robert to his office, and began the test. True to the promise, it was simple and fast. Prick a finger, put the blood in a vial, let it run for 45 minutes and you got a nice print-out of 27 markers. Leon also texted Callen, letting him know that he was expected in Leon's office as soon as he reached the base. When the agent arrived, Leon gestured toward the empty chair. For the first time, he looked at the two side by sid, and then looked at Hetty for the briefest moment. If this was a ruse, they had found someone who could pass for a relative.

Leon stood up and went around his desk. "Welcome back, Mr. Callen. Your hand if you please."


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[info]g_callen
2011-05-18 08:09 pm UTC (link)
"Thank you, Director." G took the seat with a nod. It had been a long flight back and an even longer couple of days before that and the only thing he really wanted to do was fall into bed for another round of pretending to sleep while Sam slept. But, he could hardly refuse to report to Vance, even if that's what he wished he'd done as soon as he saw their newest arrival was already there. G had been hoping he'd get back to New York and find Robert Adams had been a mass hallucination of the sort he'd once suspected Abby's visions of being.

This was certainly not what he'd wanted to be dealing with as soon as he got back.

"Sir?" G hesitated a moment before holding out his hand. Shaking hands with his boss was one thing. But, this wasn't that sort of request, or Vance wouldn't have waited until G also was sitting down. It was only because he did trust the man as far as the job was concerned that he hesitated instead of refusing outright. Or, maybe it was more that he trusted Hetty and she was right there. The woman would do what she had to in order to get a job done. But, that had never included throwing G to the wolves. "What's happened?"

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[info]leon_vance
2011-05-18 08:39 pm UTC (link)
Leon didn't answer the question just yet. He knew his men a little too well, and he wasn't looking forward to starting a discussion with Callen. They could have the forty-five minute argument while they waited for the results. It was much more efficient than wasting time for a foregone conclusion. Instead he held Callen's wrist and use the little plastic and metal collector to prick Callen's finger. It was that simple, and then close the top to ensure that there was no contamination and let the machine do the rest. "You might want to suck on that instead of leaving blood on a band aid."

He took out the bleach to clean the plastic part, even if technically no blood was there. Better safe than sorry. "We got this little machine. DNA results in less than an hour," he finally said. "It's quite useful. You don't even need a doctor to run the test, which is very convenient for us. We've ran -" There was a moment's hesitation about which name to use, considering that the man insisted that his name was Callen despite what his ID said. "Robert's DNA right before you came in. Both he and Hetty were with me the entire time. No one else has been in this office. All of his DNA samples have been destroyed, something that we'll do with yours as soon as we're done." Not that they could prevent people from obtaining genetic material from them. It was just too easy nowadays, but they could make it harder.

"This was the only way we have to determine if there's a relationship." And to find out if the story was real, although that only brought up more questions, but at least those were of a personal nature and did not put NCIS in jeopardy. He reached into his drawer and took out a bottle of whiskey, before taking out four glasses. "A little of this should help before you start complaining, Mr. Callen."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-18 09:34 pm UTC (link)
G knew what Vance was going to do almost before he did it. But, the need to stuff down the automatic flutter of panic at having his wrist held like that, and keeping that panic from showing itself to the rest of the room, slowed his reaction time -- thankfully the instinct didn't trigger an unconscious use of his power to get out of it -- and allowed Vance to take his blood sample. He already had his finger pressed between his lips before the unnecessary direction came from his Director. G hadn't argued against April's testing or Savannah's desire for fertility tests only to be lax with his own blood. Biting his finger also helped rein in his temper as Vance explained what he was doing. Boss or not, G was furious and not above letting the man know it.

"I was thinking I'd skip over complaining and go straight to pissed off bitching," he said tightly, accepting the glass and dipping his now bloodless fingertip into the liquid to sterilize it. That they destroyed Adams' samples and would his was mollifying. But not enough so. And, G took two healthy swallows before continuing.

"The results will be destroyed? You'll let Eric in here to wipe out whatever data memory or storage that thing has?" Damn them. They could have at least warned him. Sure, he might have argued and insisted on seemingly unreasonable security precautions. But, he wasn't stupid. He could have been talked into it. Maybe. This just felt like betrayal heaped upon espionage piled atop expediency. And what if there was a relationship? What if Adams really was long lost bloodkin? They weren't just putting G on the line like he was prepared for them to do as part of the job. They were risking possibly the only family he might ever find alive.

G would rather live with the possibility of a lie.

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[info]leon_vance
2011-05-18 09:51 pm UTC (link)
Leon passed a glass to Robert and then got up to bring the other to Hetty. "I'd expect my agents to be slightly more diplomatic, especially my lead agents and the man responsible for training everyone else. What kind of example would you be giving after all," he said, with a tiny smile as he sat back.

He eyed Callen for a moment. "No, I want to build a public record," he said sarcastically. "Of course, everything will be destroyed. That's why we're doing this past office hours with just the four of us present. We'll call Eric, check out the machine, although technically it's not supposed to store any information." Leon knew better than to rely on what things were supposed to do. "He'll check it out anyway."

He leaned back and took a sip of the whiskey. "Now, we have thirty-seven minutes left, unless you feel the irrational need to complain about something that was inevitable, perhaps we can discuss California and all the new arrivals. Of course, I expect you and Sam to come in tomorrow morning for a full briefing, you'll get what we know, and then one with the other leads. It's time to decide what to do with the sudden influx, and possibly deal with whoever else might be coming, since I was assured that they are categorically not doing any more tests, meaning that there are tests being done and everyone is hiding behind plausible deniability."

Leon knew that Callen was biting his tongue, but at least they moved from the DNA testing to other business. However, as soon as the machine beeped and spat out the print out, all talk ceased. Leon took the paper and compared it to Robert. This machine was truly made for dummies, and considering that the main purpose was to determine family ties at the airport, the answer was more than easy. He put both papers and pushed one toward each man. "Gentlemen, you aren't just related; you're brothers, and before you ask, the machine can give false negatives in case of contaminated DNA samples, but not false positive," he said, looking at his agent. Robert has also taken the test that Savannah came up with and he is from our dimension. This is for real, Mr. Callen."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-18 10:34 pm UTC (link)
For thirty-seven minutes G ran himself through an exercise in self-control he hadn't felt a need for in a very long time. Between forcing himself to remain calm, not fingering the bracelet at his wrist, and not releasing a slew of invectives in multiple languages the Director hopefully didn't speak, focusing on the information about their trip and the new arrivals he felt it safe to share with this unknown entity sitting next to him, it was almost a relief when the damn machine beeped at them. At least they could get this over with and he could move on from whatever personal cyclone this would turn out to be.

It almost seemed too quick. A scan of the paperwork and Vance's pronouncement and it was done. He had a brother.

"блять," he swore softly, drawing an amused smirk from Hetty that quickly transformed into a sympathetic smile. He'd spent half an hour cussing in Russian in his own head. It was inevitable that be his first response.

He had a brother.

A living brother, not one dead and buried thirty years ago like his sister.

G felt sucker-punched. Up until now, he'd been able to tell himself it was all in Savannah's head. She wanted him to have a family and she was so much more optimistic than he was. It made sense she'd come to that conclusion. But, he couldn't argue with this. Well, he could but not when he was already tired from the toll just the possibilities had already taken on him the last two days. There wasn't much fight in him left just then. Actually, there wasn't much of anything recognizable left in him just then. Even getting enough air to his lungs to breathe seemed like too much to handle.

Stunned seemed like too small a word to encompass what he felt, and was probably very unsuccessful at hiding.

"You're sure?" he asked quietly, setting the glass of whiskey on the desk in front of him before he dropped it. "There's no room for error?" Fuck, he didn't think he could take a yo-yo result on this, a prolonged period of thinking he had a brother and then, no he didn't. It had been hard enough to spend a day looking for a sister who turned out to be an imposter posing as a girl who'd died before he even hit double digits in age. But, this...?

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-18 10:45 pm UTC (link)
This had been a game for Robert. Oh sure, he wanted to find his parents, but that was a two week activity, twice a year. There had never been much thought about his motivations, and he certainly hadn't expected some wild story about them. If anything, he'd always assumed that if this was a hit, it would have been related to some of the anti-terrorist missions they ran, and not to Colleen or his parents. Coming here had been filled with new dimensions, information and girls with great legs who went on fire. Finding family was almost irrelevant, but from the little bits and pieces that he was hearing, the same wasn't true about the man sitting next to him - his brother.

When the Director confirmed that there could be no mistake, he kept his eyes on the man. "I'm aware that I don't know much, if anything about my family, but whether we're family or not isn't a federal investigation. Not at this moment. You know that I was telling the truth, anything related to parents who are in another dimension can wait." He looked at his brother, taking a deep breath. "It's late. Perhaps, agent Callen and I can talk, and whatever questions you might have, even though the answer is still pretty much I have no clue, can wait until the morning."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-18 11:09 pm UTC (link)
"I believe the questions Mr. Callen has will take precedence over any questions we might have for you later." G heard Hetty's reply as if through water, his brain still trying to wrap around the simple confirmation from Vance.

He had a brother.

A real one who shared his blood and his family history, whatever it was, and who kind of looked like him now that he let himself see the man, Robert, for the first time.

G wasn't really sure he was up for the sort of conversation that could inevitably follow. But, Hetty's hand resting on his shoulder for a moment so brief he would have missed it if he wasn't as trained in observation as he was, brought him back to the room and out of his head enough to focus on what...his brother...was saying. "We'll go to my house," he said, standing up and silently daring Vance or Hetty to try telling him no. This was not a conversation he intended to have here. This became a family matter as soon as that damned machine beeped. "We've got a spare bed. You can crash there tonight, when we're done." And that would open the way to getting him out of the hotel and into the house. Morgan and Burke could go to hell if they thought they'd talk G into letting either of them take responsibility for his brother.

"Director. Hetty." Nodding to each in turn, he didn't wait to be dismissed. Vance could read him the riot act for it in the morning.

He just hoped Robert followed.

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-18 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Robert had seen people in shock, usually after the first time that they saw someone go down and die. He hoped that his brother had lots of beer, because that was the best solution as far as Robert was concerned and his brother needed it. That's when he realized that he didn't even know his brother's name. Wow, was that weird or what?

He stood up and took the papers from the table, folded them and put them in his pocket. Maybe real proof could make his brother snap out of it. "Will you deal with the evidence?" He didn't even know why it was important, but it had been almost vital when they had started this conversation and now it had almost been forgotten. Robert liked to take care of details, it's how he'd become a Lt. Colonel this young. When he got the confirmation, he jogged after his brother to catch up. "So... you don't expect me to hug you or something?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I just had a thought in there. You've been asking me a lot of questions, and I don't even know your name. I'm not going to keep calling you agent Callen, so what do I call you?" he asked. "My mother - Colleen used to call me Robbie, most of my friend use Rob. You can pick; whatever it's more comfortable."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-18 11:40 pm UTC (link)
"Oh, fuck no," G sputtered, taken off guard by the question of a hug. Chagrined, he forced out a chuckle and shook his head. Hugging had been about the farthest thought from his mind. "Sorry. No, hugging is not required. Although, I should warn you that as soon as Savannah hears about this, you'll be smothered in them. She's the one with the legs you couldn't stop staring at and the engagement ring on her finger? I'd get used to being called Uncle Robert, if I were you. She has a mind of her own about these things." Well, Savannah didn't call G 'dad' or anything. But, 'uncle' was a lot easier to throw around than 'dad'.

The cold and damp woke G up out of the surprised stupor -- or maybe that was the night guards with their M4s, which he hadn't actually seen in two weeks and had gotten used to being absent from his peripheral. Shrugging his jacket collar up a little higher, he stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked. It finally clicked in that Robert had taken care of confirming destruction of the evidence, the whole issue having slipped G's mind in it's state of numb shock, and he made a mental note to check with Eric later and make sure it was done. It wasn't that he didn't trust Vance and Hetty to do it. He just needed confirmation it was done.

"I probably owe you a few of those answers I couldn't give you until I was sure," G said with a sigh, though if it was heavier at the idea of dealing with questions and answers or explaining his name, he couldn't be sure. "Most people just call me Callen. But, I guess that would be odd under the circumstances. You can call me G. It's what the four people on the planet who don't call me Callen call me."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-18 11:52 pm UTC (link)
Robert chuckled. "I wasn't planning, but at least you're back with us, and I know who she is. Of the five of you, she was the pleasant one, and easy on the eyes, too." He frowned. "Is she your kid? Were you in high school when you had her? How old are you? And the hell she's calling me uncle. I'm still getting used to the last name. A whole family? That's... Not really what was I expecting when I went to Marina Del Rey."

He followed, not sure where they were going. He had learned where the important buildings were, but the hotel was pretty centralized and now they were going the opposite way.

"I might have a few hundred more questions since you seem to know a lot more than I do." He put his hands in his pockets. He was used to this weather. Aviano could get cold even if this year it had been a lot warmer than usual. "And yes, using your last name is more than odd. G? What does it stand for? And who are these four people? More relatives I should know about?"

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 12:21 am UTC (link)
"Sorry." He was apologizing. Again. Surreal didn't even cut it. "I wasn't prepared to find a distant relative this way, let alone a sibling." Another sibling. But, that revelation might require a beer. Chuckling, he shook his head again. A perverse part of him thought the other man might deserve to be left to squirm a little after the way he'd hit on Savannah. But, G wasn't up to playing games of that sort tonight. "Best guess is that I'm 42. But, explaining my age and name should wait until we get to the house and, possibly, get a drink or twelve. But, no, biologically, Savannah's not mine. We sort of adopted each other after arriving here and now she's as good as mine. I wouldn't be surprised if she decides that makes you an uncle, though. And good luck convincing her otherwise if she does. I find it's better to save arguing with her for things that are really important.

"I should probably prepare you for what you're going to walk into when we get to the house. I'm not sure how much they briefed you on what we've got set up here on base. But, we've got everyone split into houses on Colonel's Row. The hotel's only in use right now because so many have come through in the last two weeks and my unit's been in L.A. on assignment for that time. There are two other leads besides myself and we generally make housing decisions and unit assignments as a group. So, I live with five others. You've met three of them. Besides Savannah, there's Deeks and Sam Hanna, the SEAL who we never introduced by name. There's also Sam's kids, Jennah, who's with MARSOC, and Sean, who would be finishing his last year at Juilliard back home. There's also two dogs, Harley and Nova, German sheppards. We've been training them to not get too friendly with strangers and new people, to only respond to commands from those of us in the house. So, don't be surprised if they refuse to be petted." He'd make sure the dogs got to know his brother -- and that word was going to feel strange to even think for so long. G missed Harley. He hoped the two week separation hadn't set the improvements in his dog's abandonment issues back.

"I don't know if it's really that much more," he admitted. "Three of the four people who call me G live in the house: Savannah, who's as good as family. Sam, who was my partner and best friend at home. He's now my second-in-command here. And, Sean, who really just doesn't like the informality of last names, I think. The fourth is Dr. April Kepner, our resident surgeon and M.E. I've been helping her overcome a phobia with handguns and it made it easier to be on a first name basis."

Explaining the household had taken up most of the walk and it was only a short distance then to the house. G was hoping the rest of them would be occupied, Sam with the kids maybe, Savannah likely moving back into Deeks' room. Of course, as soon as he had the front door open, there was a very large, very nervous Harley demanding attention.

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 12:47 am UTC (link)
"Don't worry about it; neither was I," he answered, because this was the first thing he did understand, this strange feeling of confusion. Societal norms told him that he should be happy that he had family, feel something, but the man was a stranger, and maybe he had tried to help back in that office, but those two were strangers, too and he felt no obligation to them. "A beer goes a long way to make things better." Anything heavier would probably not be a good idea tonight. It could wait for the tomorrow when this probably would sink in. "That's all right. She can keep talking about uncles and I can talk about role playing. We'll see who gives up sooner," he said, chuckling.

"I know a little bit. They told me about the classes, self defense and the gun qualifications. I doubt the last two are going to be an issue. I wasn't joking when I said that my mom trained me with everything since I was a kid. I learned to shoot before I could read. She got me this little gun that they sell for kids, or used to sell, and as soon as I could handle the recoil, we moved to bigger and better." He made a mental note of the names, matched them with the people he had met at the team center. "Yeah, Derek introduced himself and his team. Very friendly for an FBI agent. I half expected that he was going to hug me. He told me about the teams and the people. I can't believe you've been here this long. I can give you some good news, although a SEAL might appreciate it more. Team Six killed Osama on the first. Joint operation. Air Force confirmed satellite images based on CIA information. Team Six went in and took care of things, before bringing the body and evidence on a ship. It was a good day to be in the military." He didn't know why he was talking so much, usually he'd let others talk while he drank his beer, but this was a weird conversation.

Inside the house, he let his brother play with the dog, not bothered about not being able to pet him. He lived on a base and he'd never kept a pet. "I never had a pet. My mom always said that you shouldn't get attached to animals, that they made too much noise, attracted too much attention. I never really questioned it." He didn't know how long he could ramble on and instead looked around the house, which was surprisingly quiet with so many people living there, but then it was late. "Kitchen?" he asked, figuring any SEAL worth anything would have beer in the fridge.

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 01:26 am UTC (link)
"Beer we definitely have." Beer and a game were too often the relaxation of choice for that supply to run out. Smirking, he raised an eyebrow. "I can tell you that right now. You will give up first because by the time you finish explaining the concept to her, you'll be too tired to do more than cringe when she finally gets it and smacks you for being 'terrible'." Not that it really stopped G when he was in a mood, as their stakeout had proven.

"Qualifications shouldn't be a problem," he agreed. "I can run you through the tests on Monday afternoon. Just let me know what besides handguns you want to test in. Sam will do your evals in self-defense and if you're lucky, I might consider talking him out of putting you through full SEAL training." Nodding as Robert talked of the training his mother had, he couldn't help feeling a twinge at how nice that must have been. But, it was ignored as he snorted over the introductions. "Yeah, that sounds like Morgan. If you told him your name was Callen, that's probably the only thing that saved you from that hug. He's a BAU profiler and according to him, his entire team back home is like that." He was grinning broadly by the time the story of the May First operation was complete. Maybe the month of May wasn't entirely irredeemable, yet. "As Sam isn't here, I'll give the 'Hoo-Rah' for him. But, you need to tell him that one. That was what you meant when you said what you did in the interrogation room about giving him some slack, wasn't it?" Some of that initial blustering he'd seen on the video feed made more sense now.

Giving Harley some much needed love and attention, and perhaps an apology for being gone so long, G looked up at his brother a moment. "I didn't either as a kid. Harley's a rescue dog. When we went to get a dog for Savannah, she couldn't chose and I couldn't let him stay. He's eight years old and the chances anyone else would take a dog this old are very slim. I knew how he felt." Standing, he nodded and pointed the way to the kitchen, following behind with Harley on his heels. He let Robert get the beer while he sent Sam a text to let him know he was home, with company, and G'd explain everything when he came upstairs. "Just bring the six pack. We can talk in the basement. only place to guarantee no one will interrupt unless it's an emergency."

G waited until they were settled in the basement, each with a beer, himself on the floor with Harley, before picking up the conversation. "So, I guess this where I actually let you ask the questions the time."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 01:56 am UTC (link)
"I wouldn't expect any different from a SEAL. He should be ashamed otherwise." Robert snorted. "Don't worry, I've dealt with plenty of those in school, and with some who pretended to be like that and fucked anyone with the right bank account, which was stupid considering how wealthy their own parents were." He grinned. "She can smack me, and I can spank her. I bet I'll have more fun."

He got the beer and followed him down. "I'm not in a rush; don't worry about it. I can use a gun with or without paperwork if it's necessary." It wasn't the first time that he'd done less than legal things, and most of them were sponsored by the US government. This didn't seem very different. "I can pass on the special op training. We give support to SEAL teams, CIA, other black ops. I've seen them train, so yeah, he gets slack from me. I also thought he might have been at the base, and it really was a prank, but the bottom line is that I know how much they work and there's a reason I became a pilot. I let other people do the hard work and I have all the fun. And it's HUA, man," he said as he took a seat on the couch, and opened his beer. "I didn't give a last name, just Robert. No one asked; I didn't volunteer. I might not know much, but I knew that there was more, and I wanted to talk to you about it before. I don't particularly want to get killed for a last name, but I don't like a lie either. The only reason I never tried to change it at home is because there's no proof of anything, just a very valid birth certificate with Adams."

He took a gulp of the beer and then stared at his brother for a moment. "I don't even know where to start, man. Your name? Our parents? What are their names? You said approximately 42, that means you were about 6 when I was born. Do you remember her pregnant? Did they give us up after that? I... Look, this affects you more than me. You remember some things, know others. Just tell me what you're comfortable with. It's fine, and if you want to wait, that's cool, too. I just thought you should get out of that room; you looked spaced out. Oh that reminds me-" He reached into his pocket and handed him the folded papers with their blood results. "In case you wanted to see." Mostly in case he needed to see. "And why so careful with the DNA result?"

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 03:07 am UTC (link)
G snorted. "I bet you'll be the one coming out of the encounter with third degree burns." And that wasn't even getting into what Deeks would do to him, let alone how much Deeks would have to get in line behind G himself.

"That's not rushing," he said with a chuckle. "That's giving you time to get your bearings. It's also when I'm resuming training now that we're back from assignment. So, it's procedure, really."

Taking the results from him, G sort of stared at them for a long moment before putting them in his own pocket and taking a long pull from his beer. He'd want to look at them and see for himself, maybe with Sam there to prompt him to destroy them when he was done. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he tried to figure out where to begin. The DNA question was easiest to answer, as stupid as that probably was. "Do you remember Sam telling you about the secret executive order? The one that makes us an enemy of the state if we don't cooperate and work with ICIS? That's why so careful. We're essentially behind enemy lines here. It's a very real possibility that at some point, we become too much of a liability or too much of a threat because of the powers we get. Only those of us from other dimensions get them, which makes us dangerous in the eyes of the government. They write comic books about government experiments on mutants and others with powers, searching for 'cures', etc. What are the chances that could become a reality in a world where people really do have these superpowers? What happens if they grow bored with their attempts to close the rifts and send us home? Turn instead to using us as the basis for their own genetically engineered soldiers? Even if they don't go that route, if they decide to exterminate the threat we represent, how much easier would if be to fight, say a cheerleader who can turn herself into fire, if they had a look at her genetic code?

"We're only partly operating as a federal agency here. It's a day-to-day coverstory, really. The official version of why we're here. Those soldiers out there for our protection are also there to watch us and keep us in line. And under it all, we train for survival and the very real possibility we could end up going on the run as fugitives in the future. Security, keeping ourselves as innocuous and self-reliant as we can, training the civilians and non-covert ops fighters how to fight, how to kill, how to disappear so far off the grid as to become virtual ghosts, that's our main objective. Survival. All those things your mother taught you are going to come in very handy now.

"Which I suppose is as good a lead in as we're going to get into talking about what I know about our family." He needed another swallow of beer before he could go on. "The short answer to most of those questions is I don't know and I don't remember. I was put into the foster care system the summer of '74. As far as I was ever told, I was a foundling. No idea who my parents were. No idea when I was born. All I could tell them of my name was the G. Current theory is that I was trained not to give out my name and I've been simply 'G' for so long, it really is my name now. They guessed I was about five years old. So, on my official paperwork with the system they put down a date of birth that would allow me to start kindergarten that fall. I'm sure there's probably a logical, psychological explanation, but I seem to have repressed a lot of memories of my childhood. They come back spontaneously. But, I don't have any memories of my...our parents at all."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 03:07 am UTC (link)
"The last several years, I've been working with NCIS as part of a top secret undercover unit. On May 18th of last year, I was burned by an information dealer named Keelson, who said he knew what the G stands for and that instead of asking 'who' all these years, I should have been asking 'why'. He was trying to use my search for our family to compromise the entire agency, nearly succeeded. Unfortunately, we'll never know what information he had or who paid him to find me. I wound up having to shoot him in self-defense and he didn't survive."

This was where it got difficult for G, the loss. But, Robert deserved to know about Amy. G ran a hand over Harley's flank as he continued. "What we did find was the warehouse where he stored his data. The man had file boxes on everyone. One on me. Two on Hetty. But, before we could crack the codes on the locks, an accomplice of his triggered a string of explosions from the outside and everything but one the one box he'd left out was destroyed. Following the clues there, we found a woman who had been masquerading as Amy Callen...our older sister. She took Amy's name after an accident happened when the girls had snuck out of the orphanage and down to the river one night. Amy was drowned. But, the people running the house mistook the other girl for her because she was blonde and in Amy's bed. That was the first time I had a repressed memory surface, one of Amy and myself the day I got this scar." G pulled back his sleeve to show the short line across his left wrist. "She was eleven years old and buried under the other woman's name, Hannah Lawson, at a cemetery in Hollywood. I don't know why we were split up. It's not standard procedure for siblings in the child welfare system. I didn't even remember her..."

Shaking the dark thoughts away, G shrugged. "The one thing I do know for certain is that one of our parents is still alive. I don't know which. But, both Hannah's parents had died before she was put in the orphanage with Amy. She was witness to both deaths. When I found where Amy is buried, there were fresh flowers on the grave and a card to 'my daughter'. So, one of them is alive and knew it was Amy, not Hannah, buried there."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 03:37 am UTC (link)
"We'll see." He wasn't above annoying pretty girls who decided that suddenly they were related. In fact annoying pretty girls, or women, was a very good past time.

"Fine, Monday it is, but I'll still take a pass on the special op training." He drank as G explain, but had to put the bottle down when he started to laugh. "I know that Navy boys aren't that smart, but you've seen my rank, and you know how old I am, which means I got the promotion as legally possible. I know what behind enemy lines entails. You don't have to explain. How many times have you given that explanation?" he asked, still chuckling. "It sounds like you have it down pat."

He put the bottle down. "So survival skills, self-sufficient. It's like going camping with mom all over again. She'd make me look for food, weapons, even make my own, but this is more sophisticated than a weekend in the woods. It means guns and ammo not on official channels, storage, unless you plan to steal them as you run, but this isn't Iraq. You can't go off the grid, because if you could, you wouldn't have found me so easily, not that I knew that I was supposed to hide, but you still got there mighty fast. Any chance we can get a nice bird. Let them search for cars while we fly, nothing like my Falcon, but you can get a smaller plane, used, make a few modifications, you can even install you're very own illegal missiles if you know your basic aerial engineering, and also if it's small enough, you can fly under the radar. Also I don't know if Vance can find me stuff on what planes they have here, I can tell you just how accurately they can find us without satellites. That's what we do while surveilling the no fly zone in Libya, and Iraq and Afghanistan. Take your pick, and my squadron has been there."

It was so much easier to deal with that part. He had never known why his mother had trained him so hard, maybe he should have questioned it, but then it sounded normal back then. Listening to G talk about family wasn't as easy. "I... I don't know what to say. Sorry just doesn't seem... useful. So... they gave you and ... our sister- fuck, this is a trip. I expected to find someone who was married to someone else, cheating husband, second families, not this. Anyway, she was pregnant with me when they gave you up."

He stood up and started to pace. "May 18th? A year ago, my mother died, and now she's what- a glorified body guard? A trainer? Thirty-five years, I've loved her as a mother, I never questioned her. She gave me everything anyone could possibly want, and there was someone else behind it." He stopped and turned to G. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't- That poor orphan boy, that was never me you were talking about, was it?"

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 04:53 am UTC (link)
G laughed. Unless his brother was like him enough to push the right way, the fact he was G's brother would probably earn him training on a par with the rest of the family. "We'll see what Sam says. I've asked him not to train the general populace in any way I wouldn't do and I've got enough bullet holes in me I'd sink in surf torture or submersion training. You're military and family, though. You might not escape some special ops training." He raised an eyebrow again. "Whatever the flyboys have to tell themselves to sleep at night. I might have lost count how many repetitions of that I've given, multiple times to the same people. There are now twenty-seven of us not including the Director and Hetty, who between them have experience in more organizations than the rest of us probably know exist. Of those twenty-seven? You, myself, Sam, a burned CIA operative, and possibly one of the new guys, that's how many have military experience. A few from the Alphabet agencies, but the degree of understanding of this sort of situation varies depending on the agency and the division, from the members of my team at NCIS down to the guys from FBI's White Collar. And the rest are all civilians or criminals. I repeat myself a lot," he added with a chuckle.

"Going off the grid? That's what I do, disappear. I'm a ghost, a legend. It's not easy, with this many completely off the grid might not be possible. But, we'll teach them how to disappear as best we can. We found you because you were coming through the rift. There's some way of alerting Vance when that happens. And you came through in an area with a lot of cameras that could be hacked. My unit was three hours out and we had a visual on you through street cams, building security cams, the whole time -- and I happen to enjoy breaking speed limits whenever I can." He smirked. "Deeks didn't get what it cost you to lose the Jag. But, I left behind the Aston Martin Rapide I drove off duty and Sam's Dodge Challenger we drove on duty. I get it. Getting back to the point, though, disappearing is my talent. And from the sound of it, your experience can give us even more of a chance to pull it off. But, let's leave strategy for morning. You and Sam and I can sit down and figure out how to make your knowledge mesh with ours and I'm sure we can get you the specs, if not through official channels, through unofficial. We have a few top hackers and the best intelligence analyst I've ever worked with at our disposal."

G could only nod at the timing. He could do math as well and come to the same conclusion. "That's what it looks like. Amy might have remembered if she was showing before they gave us up. But, I doubt she really ever knew. I asked Hannah what Amy called me, if she knew my name. But, she said the only thing Amy ever called me was 'baby brother'. If we're right and I was trained not to give my name, Amy was older and probably trained just the same." Watching his brother get up and pace, he knew there really wasn't much he could do to make this easier. It wasn't easy on him, either. They had one more tiny little piece of the puzzle, each other. But, the scope of the entire picture had just increased tenfold. "Do not apologize. If anyone is going to get how this is going to fuck with your head, it's me. And I can't even imagine what it's like for you, having had a woman there you believed to be your mother and to lose her, only to stumble into this. There's no need to apologize."

Draining his bottle, G shrugged. "Yes and no. I thought there was a possibility you were someone looking for them, trying to lure them out of hiding by pretending to be me. A lot of the details aren't public record and because of my work, most searches for me get channeled to the NCIS offices before more than my name gets entered. If you'd worked for Keelson and knew enough to fake it, but not all the details, my story could have been yours. Then with the timing, May 18th, it tracked with the evidence we had." Propping his arms up on his knees, he toyed absently with the ID bracelet. "My life wasn't as easy, no. But, if I'd known you were out there, it's what I would have wanted for my little brother, to be safe and protected, even if I wasn't. It wasn't your fault we ended up in the system and you didn't."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 12:23 pm UTC (link)
"Bullet holes?" He could talk his way out of many things, had for a long time, and training didn't seem so important at the moment, but bullet holes got his attention. "The flyboys don't have holes in them, and most people don't use the plural unless they are talking about a corpse. I work in a war zone, and I don't have bullet holes. What happened to you?" He sat down again, grabbing the bottle, more for something to do than a need to drink. No, he needed that entire bottle of whiskey at this point. The beer was just to ease the thirst. "Not that you'd really find any of this in any papers at home, maybe CIA, but I - my squadron worked in anti-terrorism. There are days that I think there are more CIA operatives in Aviano than DC, so you don't need to give me the long explanation. Unless you really feel the need to sound like an elementary school teacher. I can see how that would be your life calling. You really look the part," he said, barely hiding a smile.

Robert leaned back, resting the bottle on his knee. "Talking about the practical stuff is something I can do. Make a plan, execute the plan, do what needs to be done for a successful mission, then come home,fuck and drink. The family discussion- that's.... It's so outside my experience. I was the only child of a rich widow. Everyone knew that. Now, I'm... what? What are they? Criminals? Operatives? Who needs to go to such lengths to hide their children? Even most operatives wouldn't be on the radar after this long." He sighed. "I think I liked it better when they were just a name of some two timing, cheating bastard who refused to take care of his kid."

He smiled when G started to talk about cars. "Can't say I'm fond of American cars. They are more show than speed, but a Rapid is a damn nice car. I'm on the list for the 2012 Lamborghini Aventador LP760-2. Do you know how many of those they are making? FIVE. And the only reason I know, it's because a buddy of mine is part of the designing team. Those cars had buyers before they even presented the car, which was... yesterday, or two days ago. They weren't even public yet. Now, I'll be stuck with the regular LP700-4 model like the rest of them. That's really unfair, man. That car is a work of art. I don't know when we'll go home, but when we do, you'll have to take a look at my garage. I bet you'll find something you like, all fast, all stick, and all foreign. Mom liked fast cars; fast bikes too for that matter." God, he really hoped someone took care of his cars.

Of course, they couldn't avoid the real discussion, no matter how much he wanted to. "Summer of 74? She wouldn't have known, you either. She- our mother have to be only a few months pregnant, not even showing. Stupid question on my part. It's just... it's like being thrown so many pieces of a puzzle and trying to make them fit while still in the air."

He snorted. "Nice theory. It would have been better if I knew who Keelson is or if I'd gotten your age right. You'd hope that at least they know how old their children are." There the man went again. First family, now little brother. Robert didn't know what to do with that. He had a family and didn't have brothers, and he had a feeling that G was just as used to being alone. "This makes no sense. That test might say we're brothers, but we've barely met and you're throwing out words like 'family' and 'little brother', and--" And he'd been the one trying to protect his older brother from two people who weren't really trying to hurt. What the hell was wrong with them? "It's always been me and mom," he started again, hoping to make some sense of what he was saying, but giving up, because he didn't even know what he was thinking. "When we go back, maybe you should come to the house. It's huge and I'm alone when I'm even there, and it's not going to make up for what happened thirty-five years ago or the things you didn't have, but maybe we can figure this out together. I don't know about this brother thing. I'm going need time to do what normal families do. I don't even know what the fuck they do," he said, chuckling. "I do know what it means to look out for my squadron, so no hugs, but I'll watch your six."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 05:27 pm UTC (link)
"The flyboys have a few million dollars worth of metal between them and the bullets," G pointed out with a chuckle.

Standing to get himself another beer, one he wouldn't down in two minutes, he stayed up instead of sitting again and leaned against the wall opposite the couch. "Story's a bit complicated." G smirked. "Definitely not for school children. Was working for the DEA back in '99. CIA needed a couple agents who spoke fluent Russian for a joint op with Russian intelligence. I was tapped for the loan-out along with another agent, Taylor. Guy named Stanhope was our CIA point man; Arkday Kolcheck was our Russian contact. Russian cartel was trying to get control of the flow of oil into Europe. We were made very shortly into the op, though, and sent home. Always figured someone was feeding the cartel information. Turns out Stanhope was in bed with the cartel. Got his hands on the oil and his company, which he ran under an alias, was going to go public in November 2009. So, knowing Taylor, Arkady, and myself could identify him, he ordered a hit in May of that year. Three cities, four drive-bys, -- one decoy for himself -- one day. Taylor and the man who was the decoy for Stanhope died instantly. Arkady got wind of the plan and went into hiding. He tried to warn us, but the messages weren't delivered for various reasons. I took five hits, spent too much time in a hospital, but survived, obviously. We put the pieces together six months later when the girl Arkady had sent to warn me turned up dead in Marina del Rey. The two of them had been keeping tabs on Stanhope, thinking me dead, and with Arkady's intel we were able to shut Stanhope down."

The corners of G's mouth tugged up into a grin. "Keep talking like that, though, and it won't matter if we're blood family or not. I'll keep you. I've got too few men here who can put the practical stuff ahead of the emotional baggage." He sighed then and took a pull from his beer. "I wish I knew. I think it was easier for me before I had proof they were still alive."

"I've been here since 2010," G laughed. "I have no idea what they're doing with the 2012 cars. I'll take you up on that tour of your garage when we get home, though. Just, don't let Hetty find out or she'll want to come along. She's more into fast cars than her agents, which may explain why she gives us such fantastic cars to drive. Just don't look cross-eyed at her Jag. Bad things will happen."

Frowning, he stared at the other man for a long moment, this man who blood said was his younger brother and who G didn't really know if he was supposed to protect or what. Finally, he shook his head with a sigh. "I'd love to be able to explain the weird hierarchical order in my head when it comes to words and concepts like family. But, I really can't. I... Identity is something I put on in the morning like a suit of clothes. I got very good at being whoever I thought they wanted me to be when I was in the system, be that part of the family or an unwelcome guest, and I was rarely in one place for longer than a few weeks. So, I make connections fast. It makes me one of the best in my field on the job and really lousy at..." Lost for words, he gestured between the two of them. "...this. But, you don't owe me anything. You weren't looking for this and you aren't obligated to be a part of it, no matter what a test says. And you certainly don't have to make up for anything either of us did or didn't have growing up. I have a house in the valley that used to belong to the only foster family who ever truly cared for me. I don't think I could give that up, not when their daughter was the girl who died trying to avenge my death in the Stanhope case. But, if you want me there, I'd like to come up and visit.

"We can do some of that figuring things out together while we're here." Letting out a huff of air, he crossed over to sit on the couch. "The one thing I do know about the Callen family is it's not normal. Parents? Given what we know, really not normal. I sure as hell am nowhere near normal. Six months without getting shot at and I'm bored out of my mind." Moving his beer to the left hand, he offered Robert his right. "And, I'll take someone who can watch my six and let me watch his over a hugger any day."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 05:54 pm UTC (link)
"Not when they go down," he answered. "Why do you think we go through survival training? When we go down, it's just us, a gun, and injuries, trying to stay alive and free until some of those special forces arrive."

Robert was wondering if every story sounded like some page from the Cold War. "Did anyone tell you that we're supposed to be in a peaceful moment of world history?" he asked with a smirk. "So basically you're saying that May and Marina del Rey aren't things you look forward to. I should have picked another house," he said, chuckling.

"I don't have emotional baggage," Robert said. "Until today, they were some weird story, not real people that came with family. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for you."

He chuckled. "All right, I guess when we go back we'll have to get ourselves whatever it's the latest Lamborghini model to make up for the loss, and she can come along, but you get the keys. Don't wreck them, and we're good. Those babies need to be driven, and I'm not around enough."

Robert looked down at the hand, and then up at his brother (and if he kept saying it in his head, maybe the word wouldn't feel so strange). "When I joined the Air Force, it was all about the money. Get the experience, get the education, go back to the private sector and own my own company. Mom pushed me into the military, I loved speed and those birds can go a lot faster than a car. So everything was simple, and then I decide to become a fighter pilot and suddenly the commitment was ten year, and when those ten years were over, I was still there, because I've learned something else there, something that went past the flying or engineering. Those are my men, my squadron, and I can't just abandon them, not when the Air Force has a shortage of pilots. You are my brother. It doesn't matter that this wasn't our making, or that I wasn't looking for ... for you. I'm not making up for the past, but I'll be damn if I'll abandon my family. The house, that's just to show you a little of my life. Watching out for you, and it sounds like you need a lot of damn watching out, that's because I take care of my own." He took G's hand, staring at him. "Yes, Sir, we can do plenty of figure things out."

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[info]g_callen
2011-05-19 06:47 pm UTC (link)
"I'd tell you the same thing about going down people keep telling me about getting shot, -- don't -- but I get the feeling it would do just about as much good as it does telling me." Of course, when G was on his own with a gun and the enemy, special forces wasn't coming for him. Only one man was.

"Who do you think is the one out there making everyone believe in that peaceful moment?" he asked with a cocky grin. "If the public knew how many terrorists, cartels, and assorted other black hats with deep pockets and big guns were running around L.A., the city would be a ghost town in no time." Snorting softly, he nodded. "Basically. First thing I asked Sam when we found the phonebook listings on you was what the hell was with this month. Lucky for me, turns out you're not here to kill me.

"Don't imagine it," he said. "It is what it is. Some days it sucks more than others. Today it's kind of weird. But, I can't say I want to complain." He chuckled. "Well, I might want to complain about the needle and surprise DNA testing. But, the brother thing might be kind of cool -- especially if it comes with the keys to fast cars I can take up the coast when we get home."

G met his brother's gaze without blinking, thrown a little by the fact he was now starting to see the similarities in their features, the eyes that were so alike. No wonder he'd made the comparison in his head about revealing things in the eyes back in the interrogation room. To say this was going to take some getting used to would be an understatement. He was starting to settle into being pleased, freaked out as fuck, but pleased to find a piece of his family. But, despite his assurances, there was so much churning in his head, a revival of the same insecurities the memories he'd recalled earlier in the year had stirred up, and G was more than a little terrified he was going to fuck this all up before it got started. He almost changed his mind, decided he'd pushed too far, and pulled his hand back. Then Robert finally took it and G started breathing again. "Good." He nodded, holding that hand for a beat before he stood up. "For now, why don't we take a break in this 'story of our lives' show and get you settled where you can crash and get some sleep. You'll have to ignore the pink. Savannah was staying in the room for awhile."

He paused in the act of picking his beer bottles. "Housing assignments here are also assignments for evacuation units. You'll be assigned an investigation unit based on aptitude and, possibly, Morgan's ideas of what's better for your mental state. We don't generally agree on the subject of putting family together on the job. But, the evac units matter more in my book. If it's not pushing too much, I'd like you to stay here. We have the room and I generally take exception to others telling me someone else will be responsible for my people." Chuckling, he smirked again. "Well, actually, even it's pushing too much, I want you here and am disinclined to take 'no' for an answer graciously. But, the other sounds better. It'll get you out of the hotel faster, though, and that place is the least secure living space on the base. Plus, we can take the pink out of that room."

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[info]r_callen
2011-05-19 07:08 pm UTC (link)
"Oh, I try to follow that rules to the letter. It's one of the few I enjoy following. Flying is so much better than crashing," he said, laughing.

Robert snorted. "So not a believer of world piece. I'm shocked, but if it helps your belief in mankind, I promise not to kill you." He thought about what his brother was saying and then grinned. "I guess it is kind of cool , and you can definitely get the keys to the cars, and the bikes, and the speed boat, but not the plane, not a big one, but does what it's supposed to and it's mine. Plenty of cool toys at the house that we can share."

He chuckled. "Is this some kind of torture? A pink room?" He stood up, but before picking up the beer, he put his hands on G's shoulders and squeezed. "You, my man, need to relax and stop explaining so much. If you said something like 'I want you to stay here', then you'd get a 'that's fine'. See? It's so much easier." Maybe if they were home, things would be different. He'd have friends, squadron mates. "I don't know anyone; I have no loyalties to anyone, but I have family." He picked up the beers, and clapped G's back. "Let's see how pink this room is and what we can do to change that."

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