The Hispanic

Chapter 7

Tea hadn't been in the cards. Callen had spent the better part of the last 90 minutes in Ops, conferring with the ATF agent in charge, the tactical team leaders and the rest of his team.

Contrary to a lot of previous joint task forces, this one was lacking the usual struggles for leadership. Callen had heard of the agent in charge during his time with the ATF and as that had been years ago, he had touched base with two former colleagues and found that Agent Aaron Lawson was still highly respected. The personal files Eric had 'acquired' had also supported that belief. The man was good at what he did and he was resourceful. Speaking with him and working out a joint plan of attack had allowed Callen to relax. While he wasn't personally around, his team was in good company and had professional backup.

Callen and Lawson had clicked and quickly drawn up a solid plan that everyone was in agreement of. He had every faith that they would pull this off nicely.

Callen glanced at Nell when she frowned. He stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, trying not to disturb Eric who was busy reconfiguring a satellite to give them necessary visual from high up above. There were relatively few cameras in the immediate areas so they would have to use an eagle eye from the sky.

"I just got a hit on Kaleidoscope," she muttered back.

"That's good, isn't it?" Callen asked.

Nell glanced at him over her shoulder, "it would be, if it was in the right area." She shook her head and turned back before pointing at the screen, "I've had Kaleidoscope looking for the three arms dealers that slipped through Custom's fingers. The hit was for Adil Fahd. He's believed to be second in command of a very radical fraction of an Islamic group. They are suspected to have had their hand in several attacks on Western bases and convoys. Weaponry like what was stolen and the schematics for the experimental system would be right up their corner, so it's a good bet they are in on the meeting."

"Alright," Callen nodded. He had not had time to follow up on the Persons of Interest that Customs had missed picking up, had needed all his concentration on the upcoming raid and the preparations for it. Following those leads was right up Nell's corner though, smack within her job description as an analyst. "So where is he?"

"So this," she pointed to her screen, "is where the raid will take place." Nell zoomed out on the map of LA. She circled another area, "and Kaleidoscope got a hit on a traffic camera here."

Callen frowned. "Brentwood is a good half an hour from South Central. Maybe he's late for the meeting." It was a weak suggestion. No one would be late for a meeting of that kind… especially considering the kinds of weapon on offer. Being late meant leaving empty handed.

Nell grunted, "that could be if he was driving towards South Central." She glanced up over her shoulder once more, making eye contact, "Callen, he's driving into Brentwood, away from the meeting place the ATF singled out."

Callen straightened, "could they have been tipped off?" He turned to Eric, "Eric, I need that satellite up now. Heat signatures for the warehouse in South Central. Nell, check traffic cameras around Brentwood. Scroll back through them and see if you can find anyone else on our watch list."

"Shall we call the raid off?"

Callen shook his head, "not until I know more. We've got five more minutes before the teams are scheduled to go in. So, you got time to find what we need. No pressure guys." He grinned.

Even with them both being turned towards their monitors, Callen could feel the exasperation pour off of both of them. Just one more time he expected miracles of them.

It wasn't quite the adrenaline rush he was used to having while being out on the streets, but he was alert and coiled for action now, even if he could only follow it from within the confines of the Ops center.

Callen turned to the computer terminal he had appropriated for himself and drew up the communications protocols. He singled out his team and tapped his earwig. "Heads up, guys. You might have to scramble. One of our possible participants was filmed going into Brentwood. The South Central address might be a decoy."

Various swear words came over the line.

"It fits well with what he's done so far, putting down false leads all over the place with the Mexican cartel, Bosnians, Pakistani groups," Sam spoke up, solidifying Callen's hunch. They often used each other as sounding boards, tossing ideas back and forth and following each other's suggestions. It worked well for them and had often brought results. Still, he wasn't yet decided on calling the raid off unless Nell and Eric gave him further reason to. This was too big to mess up. But his gut feeling got more pressing. Brentwood was more an area where he could see Escorpio pulling off this deal. South Central was too shady for the man. He was cocky and arrogant, wealthy and liked to show off. Brentwood was more his style. Some nice villa or country estate, brandy, scotch and expensive wine over negotiations.

Callen internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just give the order to abort without further information after all. He opened his mouth but before he said anything, Nell cursed next to him. He glanced over and she pointed at the big monitor. Needing just a second to take in the information, he curled his lip in anger, "find those cars. Where are they now?" he ordered, his voice lowering into a growl. He would not be bested by this man. He opened up all channels. "All teams, we have information suggesting the South Central location is merely a decoy," he spoke.

"What information?" Agent Lawson was the first to speak up.

"Several known arms dealers have been spotted on CCTVs going into Brentwood." He looked up before going on when Eric snapped his fingers to get his attention. Callen followed the finger pointed into the direction of the screen and took in the satellite images overlaid with heat signatures. "Abort mission," he shook his head, "there are merely five heat signatures in the building you're about to go into. Agent Lawson, scramble a small team to take care of those five. They are clustered at the east corner of the building, close to the entrance. The rest of you, pack up and head towards Brentwood. You'll get your destination en route as soon as we have it," he glanced over to both Eric and Nell who shook their heads without glancing up from what they were doing, knowing he was questioning whether they already had something or not.

Callen listened with half an ear as Agent Lawson picked out several agents to remain at the South Central location and apprehend the five suspects inside. He was glad the other agent didn't put up a fuss and counter his orders. A leadership struggle was the last thing they needed right now. They all had to get their acts together or this deal went off without them. He definitely didn't want to think what the construction plans of those missile systems would do in the hands of enemies. At least Nell had gotten confirmation that the missile codes had been rewritten half an hour ago and therefore weren't in danger of being set off anymore now.

He signed off and stood, pacing the room while trying to stay out of Eric's and Nell's way. He knew this was their territory and while he knew his way around Ops well enough and could do the odd task to support them, he couldn't help them in this right now. The best thing he could do was stay out of their way, let them focus on what they were doing while he held off the stampeding masses that would soon be calling for attention and new orders.

The Ops doors swished open and Callen whirled around, watching Hetty come inside.

"Trouble in paradise, Mr. Callen?" she asked, her eyes taking in the happenings on the monitor.

"This is a long way off from paradise," Callen growled, biting his tongue upon Hetty's glance and her arched eyebrow. He took a deep breath and gave her a slow nod, knowing she had given him a voiceless command to settle himself. He definitely didn't like being on this side of an investigation. Usually, he was in the middle of things. "Looks like the South Central place is a decoy. A small team will still go inside, but the rest is headed towards Brentwood where several known arms dealers have been spotted on CCTVs," he reported even though he suspected she already knew.

"I found the cars," Eric exclaimed.

Callen turned and strode over to where the tech sat, his eyes focusing on the big screen.

"Gotta love the famous and wealthy for their security systems. Got a hit on one of the license plates Nell flagged. They turned into this private estate," Eric went on. "Nell, take over the satellite, please. Coordinates sent to your station. I'll try to hack into the security system of the estate so we get eyes on the ground."

Callen once more sat down at the terminal he had used all day and selected the appropriate programs. "All teams, location has been sent to your phones," Callen advised, "stand by for further information."

He glanced up when the picture on the big screen changed. "That's quite a party," he muttered, counting roughly 20 cars parked in front of a villa. It was an image coming from the satellite they had been given approval for. The villa was the last in the street, bordering to the forest of the Westridge-Canyonback Wilderness Park. "It's not going to be easy to approach without being seen," Callen mused, taking in the estate and surrounding area. A frontal approach would be spotted, but coming from the hills would be tricky as well.

A tentative plan of attack began to form in his mind.

"I got eyes inside," Eric stated and Callen once more glanced over to the tech who redirected his attention to the secondary screen. "The meeting is taking place right now, looks like 15 arms dealers. Rest seems to be security; some inside the meeting room, some patrolling the grounds."

Callen nodded, taking in the sights for himself. His eyebrows climbed up upon seeing the persons present. "That's like the who's who on the most influential arms dealers present in one room," he muttered.

"They are bound to have contingency plans," Hetty warned.

"Maybe South Central was their contingency plan," Eric suggested.

"No, people like them have more than one contingency plan," Callen shook his head. "Nell, check with LAPD if they can offer air support. Eric, blue prints."

"Already on the main table," Eric smirked and Callen shot him a grateful glance. Yeah, those two knew what they were doing. This was their territory after all and they knew how to anticipate what Callen would need. They had been part of the team for years as well.

He stood and walked over to the main table where Eric had sent the blue prints to, staring at the building's inside and trying to figure out how to approach. Every few minutes, he glanced up at the eagle eye picture from above, checking on whether an idea would work or not, confirming some, disregarding others. He knew everyone would have to defer to him now. He was holding all the cards and had the eagle's view when everyone would only have ground information.

He made several quick notations on the blue prints and the satellite view, marking points of entry, ways of approach. "Nell, get me a direct line to Agent Lawson," Callen said without glancing up. "And prepare to send these blueprints and satellite picture to his phone on my go," he pointed to the versions he had in front of him, complete with his markings.

"Aaron," Callen stated when he heard the soft click of the communication line opening up. He hadn't been on a first name basis with the man so far, but decided to use his given name now, inserting familiarity over professional curtsy now.

There was just a brief pause before the other man spoke up with a somewhat uncertain, "yes."

"I have a somewhat unconventional plan for this. I know we agreed to devise the plan together but the meeting is taking place right now. We don't have time to put our heads together over this. Can you trust me?"

There was a somewhat disgruntled sigh over the comm.-link, "and here I thought you wanted my first born."

The comment, gruff but laced with humor, startled a laugh out of Callen and he felt his shoulders relax. He had hoped for the man's cooperation, had tried to soothe ruffled feathers with his approach, but found that there were no ruffled feathers to soothe after all. "Nah, not today," he gave back with a chuckle. "Blue prints and bird-eye view coming your way now," Callen told the man while he turned his head to Nell and gave her a nod, "single out six team members that can handle a hike through rough terrain. If you don't have six, I'll settle for four," Callen told him, starting to outline his plan for the other man.

Xxxxxxx

'You're nuts.'

The words continued to circle round his head, but actually they gave Callen fuzzy feelings of satisfaction. Hetty had nodded her approval while he outlined his plan to Agent Lawson and the other agent's exclamation had let him know that this would be one surprising attack and that few if none would expect something like this.

Deeks had laughed with glee when they had been informed of the plan of attack, both Sam and Kensi remaining mostly silent but he had heard the quiet approval.

All teams were approaching their positions now and Callen stood in the middle of the Ops center, his eyes shifting between the different monitors. Tension ran high while they were keeping an eye on the meeting going on inside and around the estate. With Eric having been able to hack into the security system, they would be watching everything unfold… additionally, they were recording everything and therefore racking up evidence against all the men in question.

"Callen," Nell alerted him and he turned towards her with a questioning glance. She frowned heavily and he stepped closer.

"What's wrong this time?"

"We have a convoy of four cars approaching fast. If they continue with their current speed they will be spotted by the watchtower in 30 seconds," Nell told him.

Eric had singled out a watch position shortly after their plan had been discussed, making some adjustments necessary. 'Escorpio' obviously didn't want his meeting interrupted and therefore had positioned someone on high ground to oversee the area and warn those on the estate if it looked like someone was coming.

A convoy of four fast approaching cars was definitely something that would be noticed.

"One of ours?" Callen asked with a frown, urgency in his voice. If anyone broke their plan and waltzed right in through the front door, therefore ruining their chances, he would tear them a new one.

"No, all units present and accounted for," Eric shook his head after he had checked his monitors and noted the positions of all their teams.

"Can we take them out?"

"Not in the ten seconds we have left until they will be spotted. At least not without giving our positions away," Nell shook her head.

The comm.-system cackled to life. "Unit 5. Four cars approaching from the south."

"All units, stand down. Damn it, you were supposed to wait for the 'go' from base," Agent Lawson's voice came over the line.

"None of ours, Aaron," Callen spoke up after tapping his earwig. "Seems like we have party crashers. Saw them a few seconds ago. Identification pending. No chance to intercept. They will be spotted within the next few seconds."

He had two options… take out the watchtower and alert the arms dealers with the shot that would ring out through the valley or let the watchtower alert the arms dealers of the approaching convoy. If he took out the watchtower and the approaching convoy was an expected party, he would give their game away. If he didn't take the watchtower out and the convoy wasn't expected, the meeting would be over as well. Doomed if you do, doomed if you don't.

"Everyone, scramble to your positions," Callen decided.

On the monitor showing the inside of the estate, the tension suddenly mounted. It seemed the watchtower had alerted everyone of the oncoming intruders. "Damn it," he swore. "All units, you have a go. The convoy has been spotted and is not regarded as friendly. We'll try to salvage this op as best as we can." He turned to the two techs. "Find out who they are," he ordered.

"Already ahead of you," Eric muttered while typing, having caught the license plates and inputting them into the system.

Callen watched, half his attention on Eric's monitor while he followed the action of the ongoing raid. He didn't speak up, even if he sometimes wanted to offer helpful advice to the teams. He knew it would not be perceived as helpful but rather distracting for a field agent. Only when they needed to redirect a team, did he step in and put down the order. Otherwise he let the agents on the ground make the decisions and proceed as they had been trained.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Eric exploded and Callen whirled around, unused to the usually soft spoken man blowing up like this. "Those cars are registered to the C-I-fucking-A," he snarled.

"Are you telling me that the Agency is stampeding through our mission?" Callen asked, his voice barely controlled.

"Seems like it," Nell nodded when she re-checked some of her own data.

Callen tapped his earwig. "All teams, be advised the party crashers are from the Agency. Repeat, they are friendlies." Even if they wouldn't be regarded as such considering they were bulldozing into the operation and possibly damaging things beyond anyone's control. "Nell, get me the supervisor of that bunch. Now," he ordered.

Xxxxxxx

Callen sank down into the chair and gratefully accepted the glass of Scotch Hetty put in front of him.

They hadn't been able to salvage the operation. The CIA's appearance had spoiled all their chances. There had been some positive results: the missing weaponry from Camp Pendleton had been found, the construction files for the new experimental naval weapons technology had been secured and twelve of the fifteen arms dealers in attendance had been apprehended. What they had failed to archive though weighed heavily in his mind: 'Escorpio' had escaped. He'd had a well crafted escape plan and with the CIA bumbling in and prematurely tripping the alarm, 'Escorpio' had packed up and left.

The only saving grace of the whole fiasco was that they were able to put a name to the face: Emanuel Alvarez, a Colombian national. They could at least update the files that had been pretty slim so far, but their main objective had been to apprehend the man and that hadn't worked.

Hetty had spent hours on the phone with SecNav, the Director of the CIA, the director of NCIS and various other high ranking officials, up to and including the Secretary of Defense. It had been heated discussions and he knew fingers were being pointed around to shuffle off the blame.

He mostly didn't care about who was to blame. What he cared about was that the operation had been botched and the best chance to catch 'Escorpio' in decades had been missed.

He sighed and took a sip. "Sam and Kensi decided to let the security man from Alvarez stew over night. The second guard didn't survive. Died on the way to the hospital," he told her, continuing to update her on the facts she might have missed while on the phone.

Hetty sipped on her Scotch and breathed deeply. "I'll be busy with the fallout from today's disaster for several more days. I can already see a congressional hearing in my future. 'No, Mr. Secretary, ATF and NCIS worked well together and adapted a plan on the fly before the men in black decided to pound on the front door and ruin a good thing we had going'," Hetty mocked, resigned to having to dance to the tune of the higher ups while the blame game went around.

He knew they were not to blame and he knew Hetty would fight tooth and nail for them, but that didn't always matter. Still, he knew Hetty had been around long enough to find the needed ammunition and make certain they remained safe.

He gave her a small smile, "we'll make sure the files are ready when you need them. All t's crossed and i's dotted," he promised.

She returned his smile and watched him for a few moments. "I know you would have wanted a different outcome."

He shrugged and took another sip, "all of us did."

"True," Hetty agreed, "your plan was risky, but had a very high chance to succeed."

Callen shrugged again and settled deeper into the chair, "we'll never know now."

"No, we won't, but I still want you to realize you've done an admirable job today. Working with a different agency, gaining the trust of their man in charge and adapting a plan on the fly… that was good work, Mr. Callen."

The words of praise did little to soothe the days' failure, but still they were well received and Callen gave her a small nod of thanks. He drowned the last of the Scotch and stood, gently setting the glass down on her table.

Before he could turn away, Hetty spoke up, "Isaac Asimov once wrote: 'In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate'." He glanced at her and she caught his eyes, "worry not, Mr. Callen. I don't believe this is the last we've seen of Emanuel Alvarez."