A/N This has been written for the NCIS:LA Callen's Corner Challenge #4


Somebody saved you.

Chapter 1

Callen put the phone down. Hetty didn't like it, but he didn't care. After the last case he needed time off.

He sat back and re-watched the film footage of his father, sister and himself as a child. Every time he saw himself in his father's arms he swallowed a lump in his throat, he had been loved…not for long, five small, miniscule years. But for that amount of time he had been a normal child with a normal loving family.

Then it had all gone wrong.

He had a clearer picture now than when he had been overwhelmed with images and memories on that beach by the black sea in Romania.

Then it had been feelings, images, and an uncontrollable surge of memories that ended in his attempted destruction of the Comescu family.

He had come back sitting on the plane with Hetty, holding her hand the whole way as the doctors kept her stable until she was home and rushed to hospital. He had kept his faith with her even though she had eventually revealed that she had in fact known his mother, she had known her name and kept it to herself for years.

Clara Callen, a name and a photograph, enough to soothe him, just enough to keep him there; Clara was dead after all he wouldn't go chasing after a ghost.

But now…now he knew, Nikita Alexsandr Reznikov. It was a name…there was no body, no proof of death, it was a lead. The biggest lead to his past and his name that he'd ever had, and she wanted him back at work?

He packed the cine-film away and placed it carefully in the box on his mantel…he thought for a second and then picked up the box and walked to the room he had occupied in '83, he opened the wardrobe and lifted up a loose floorboard and gently with reverence, wrapping the box in a piece of cloth, he hid it.

He rolled up his bedroll, packed some clothes in his bag and walked into the kitchen. He finished the coffee he'd left on the counter; washed up and tidied away his cup took one more look around and left.


Sam got up early and he went to Callen's to pick him up.

The house looked deserted, but the house always looked deserted so that wasn't unusual, the fact that the houses lone occupant wasn't pacing waiting for him, or standing at the doorway holding a coffee out for his partner was unusual.

He knocked and waited.

No answer.

He looked through the window into the lounge; nothing looked misplaced…except for one thing…The box was gone.

An uneasy feeling settled in Sam's gut.

"Hetty?" he said after dialing a number into his cell phone.

"Mr. Hanna, it's very early for you to be calling, do you have a problem?" Hetty asked.

"Callen, is he there?" he asked

Hetty looked surprised, although thankfully Sam could not hear it in her voice, "Mr. Callen has requested a leave of absence, he asked for a few days to sort his affairs out, I assumed that he needed some time to sort through all the photographic evidence from the Reinhardt case, have you tried his home?" she asked.

"I'm here now, he didn't tell me…Hetty I'm worried, he's gone, from what I can see without breaking in, his bedroll is gone and his bag." Sam said.

"I'm sure he's just gone for a change of scenery," Hetty reasoned, after all Callen wouldn't leave without talking to her first.

"The box is gone." Sam said simply.

That coming from Sam was a game changer.

"I will have Mr. Beale track him down, head to Ops Sam, we will find him and then maybe you can go and back him up, or bring him back as the case may be." She said.

Sam sighed as he closed the phone, "G…What are you up to this time?" he asked himself.


Callen dropped his bag to the floor as he took a seat in Arkady's dining room. Arkady looked over at his young friend. "I hear you had some more information about your father," he said handing Callen a plate of breakfast.

Callen nodded "I have a name," he said as he started eating.

Arkady smiled, "I know, we talked yesterday have you come to ask me more questions?" he asked.

"Nikita Alexsandr Reznikov…do you know him?" he asked his fork full of eggs poised halfway to his mouth waiting for the answer.

Arkady took a sip of his tea to calm his nerves, he was Nikita's son? He hadn't expected that direct a question; this was not how they worked.

"I have heard the name," he admitted. "I told you about him being in the KGB last night, how he was a major."

"Tell me more?" Callen asked eating some more.

Now Arkady knew the name he could see it, yes he was definitely Nikita's son. The way he ate and still managed to ask questions, Reznikov was not a name he had expected to hear ever again. He looked at the young man and smiled.

"It is a name from another place, a long time ago." Arkady started. "I knew Nikita as a child; he was older than me, five years older to be exact. He was an inquisitive mind, he never believed the rhetoric the Kremlin sent out, and he signed up for the army despite his misgivings hoping he could change things from within. I was 24 when I last saw him." He admitted.

"Do you know what happened to him?" Callen asked.

"I told you all I knew last night, I knew he married a Roma girl, and they had children, I did not know what happened to him after he was captured and sent to Siberia, his family were told he was dead." Arkady said.

"He has family? A mother, father, maybe a brother or sister…cousins?" Callen asked hopefully.

"His family disowned him when he married your mother, I do not know exactly where they are right now." Arkady said.

"But could you find out, maybe they have heard from him? Maybe they would want to know me?" he didn't want to sound needy but he needed to know.

"I could try; I haven't spoken to…people there in years." Arkady said watching him closely.

"Please." Callen said.

"That will be 2 you owe me." Arkady said with a wavering smile.

"I will owe you a lot more if this works." Callen said.

He stood up, "This is my number now, I'm heading to Russia tonight, Call me if you have any information." He stood up and walked out.

Arkady stood sadly watching him go. He knew that if Callen was as headstrong as his father this was not going to be good.

Arkady pulled a picture out of his wallet of himself and what looked like a younger version of Callen, "Ah moy brat, what is your son getting into this time." He said.

When he had said to Callen two days ago that he had never had anyone introduce themselves to him as their father, he was telling the truth, last time he'd seen Clara, Nikita, Amy and Callen, they had been in the garden of Nikita's small home. It had been just after Callen's first birthday and contrary to what everyone thought; Arkady had been the person behind the camera, filming his brother, his nephew and his niece, while Clara was making his first birthday cake.

It had been Arkady's roll of film that Reinhardt had gotten his hands on.

It had been the week before the KGB had discovered Clara's connection to the CIA and Nikita had smuggled his family out of Russia and into Romania, Arkady had left his brother the film as a reminder of his children.

He had never expected to see it again, and yet there was the blond detective handing the packet with his handwriting on it to the diminutive little pixie to give to his nephew, that's when it had hit him. The reason he liked Callen so much was because he reminded him so much of his big brother.


Callen stood at the airport having called in a favor with Trent Kort and gotten himself a lift on a black ops flight.

"Callen?" Agent Pat Shale called as he walked towards the man he'd been asked to pick up, "Good God, man…I haven't seen you in years, how are you doing." He asked.

Callen smiled at the older heavy set man, "Shale? Wow, you still working for this outfit?" he grinned shaking the man's hand.

"Yeah, up for retirement soon, I hear your hitching a ride, just you or you got a partner?" he asked.

Callen shook his head, "This is strictly personal, so no partner on this one," he admitted.

Shale looked surprised, he had heard that Callen had a partner that kept him on the straight and narrow now, and he was pleased, the last thing the boy needed was to be even more alone than he already was.

"Ok so you got a travel docket signed by your boss?" he asked.

Callen shook his head, "You should have the paperwork there, calling in a favor from Kort." He said.

Shale looked through the file in his hands, "Yeah I got it, welcome aboard the rust bucket, find a pew, strap yourself in and hold on tight." He grinned.

"You're not flying are you?" he asked worried.

Shale grinned, "Nope… Slocomb is flying."

Callen turned green and reached into his bag for a bottle of Dramamine. "He flies worse than Kensi drives." He gulped.

Shale shrugged and settled into a seat, "Ya gets what ya pay for Callen, you know that." He laughed and did up his seatbelt extra tight.

The radio crackled and an older Irish voice came over the speaker, "Ok people who are not really here, hang on tight, we had a five minute window to get the hell outta here." He laughed and started the engines.

"Oh Callen?" Shale said as they took off.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You do know we are only dropping you off…so you'll need that parachute next to you." He informed him.

"Great!" Callen rolled his eyes and made a mental note to hit Kort next time he was within arm's reach.


Pulling in the parachute, he stashed it under a bush as he looked around him. He was by his calculations about four clicks from Moscow; he turned in the direction of the faint lights from the city and started walking.

He knew where to start, he had to meet an ex-KGB operative, who it was hoped had a copy of his father's files from the old days. He had a name and a place, and three hours to get there.

He caught a ride with an early morning produce van and got off at Tverskaya Street and went to stand outside the Café Russe.

He walked past the café twice, and leant against a doorway with a good view of the building, a dark van pulled up and spoke to a man inside and watched as the van drove off. He stood waiting and Callen decided to go over to him.

"Toli Gorev?" he asked.

The man nodded, "You are the man called Callen?" he asked in reply.

"I am." He said, "You have something for me?" he asked.

The man looked around, "Inside."

He opened the door and Callen followed him inside, the café was small and dark at the back, an area set aside for smoking patrons and Toli ordered something to eat. Callen followed suit, not knowing when he would be eating again.

Toli broke some dark rye bread and dipped it in his drink, "This is good, you try." He said gesturing to Callen's meal.

Callen nodded and ate watching Toli.

"So why you want to know about Reznikov, his file was buried." The man said

"Just looking for him." Callen said feeling tired.

"He was last seen in Moscow in 1974, he was sent to a labor camp in Siberia, there are a few reports of him after that in here, but not much, I am not sure it will help." Toli told him, he looked at Callen, he looked too young to be interested in Reznikov, and mostly people looking for him were a lot older.

"Anything about his family, I need to see that file." he said taking another drink to quench his thirst.

Callen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling tired, he tried shaking his head, although he thought maybe it was the smoke filled atmosphere.

Toli smiled as Callen reached for the file, "I am sorry Mr. Callen, but that file is not going to be seen by you, I have a few questions, why are you using the name Callen and who are you working for really?"

"I…I…" Callen slumped forward as the drug in his system took effect.

In another corner a one eyed man stood up without seemingly paying attention and walked out of the café into the night air, he walked past the dark van, leaning against it as he seemed to adjust his shoe and he walked on.

Toli took his phone out of his pocket. "We have the man looking into Reznikov, what do you want us to do with him?" he asked.

A voice on the other end replied, "Bring him to the outer district. We need to find out who he is working for, what information he has and how he knew the name Callen."

Toli nodded, "I will bring him Nikita, we will contact you when we arrive." He said, He nodded to the Patron who helped lift Callen's unconscious body and his bags and carried him to the van out the back and roughly threw him in.

"He will pay you well for this." Toli said to the patron.


Hetty sat at her desk as the phone rang, it was late in the evening and she had spent all day trying to find out where Callen was.

"Lange." She said as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello Hetty." A familiar voice came down the end of the phone.

She sighed, "Mr. Kort, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your call."

"You have an operation going on in Russia?" Kort asked.

"No, why?" she asked him.

"Your Mr. Callen is mixing in some dubious circles, he's just been picked up by the Gorev crime family, they are working under contract for a man, I can't say his name all I know is he's ex-KGB and if people ask about him, they disappear." He told her.

Hetty placed her hand flat on her desk trying to calm herself, "No!"

"I have a tracker on the van that took him, but I don't think I am going to be able to get him out," Kort said.

Hetty nodded, then realizing she couldn't be seen she said, "I will deal with it, Thank you Mr. Kort."

She put the phone down to find Sam standing the other side of the door waiting for her to finish.

"Where is he Hetty?"

"Moscow, I do not know why, but he has been taken by the Gorev crime family."

"Get me a flight, get Nell to backstop me." Sam said.

"Mr. Hanna this was not an NCIS sanctioned operation." Hetty said sternly she was as worried as Sam was about him, but she couldn't authorize this.

"Hetty!" he argued. "We left for you, Callen quit to follow you to Poland."

"Yes and you saw how well that worked." She snapped. "Mr. Hanna," she softened, "With Ms Blye in the field, we are already two men down.

"Deeks can handle what we have here right now, it's just cold cases." He said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hanna; I cannot authorize a trip to Moscow, the paperwork alone…" She sighed as Sam slammed his badge on the table followed by his gun.

"He did it for you." Sam said and walked past an astonished Deeks.

"Hetty?" Deeks asked.

"Oh bugger," Hetty cursed and picked up the phone. "Miss Jones, either you or Mr. Beale will be contacted by Mr. Hanna to backstop him for a trip to Russia, this trip is off the books and I do not know about it, do I make myself clear?" she asked.

"Of course," Nell said.

"That being said give him all the help he needs." She advised.

She turned to Deeks, "Mr. Deeks, for now you are on cold cases, I need at least one member of my team here."

"Where are Sam and Callen?" Deeks asked.

"Mr. Callen has gone on Vacation and Mr. Hanna has gone to….assist him." She said, picking up Sam's badge and locking it, for the second time since it was issued in her top drawer.


Callen woke up, the pain in his arms was intense and he was cold, very very cold. He looked up and noticed that there was a hole in the roof of the rundown warehouse he was in. He was naked from the waist up and shivering as freezing water dripped on him and the sub-zero air whipped around him.

He tried to cough but the position he was in made it impossible for him to do so.

He hung his head, he had failed.

He had followed all the clues given him and in his haste to find his father he had walked, it seemed into the arms of his father's enemies.

He could feel his body succumbing to hypothermia and no one knew where he was. "Stupid." He admonished himself.

"Ah…so you are American," a man in a warm parker coat sitting in the dark spoke to him. "Who are you?"

"No one." Callen answered.

"Why are you looking for the files on Reznikov, are you Comescu?" the voice asked.

"No!" Callen spat.

"WHO ARE YOU?" The voice demanded again.

"It doesn't matter who I am, I was no threat to you." Callen replied.

"You are looking into things that do not concern you, you must keep out, go back to America." The voice said and nodded another man in the room.

He jolted as the other man turned a switch and Callen jolted as electricity flowed through his body for a second.

A second was all that was needed, the switch was turned off and he found himself gasping for air.

His world turned black and Callen lifted his head as if in prayer and said one word.

"Sam!" a single tear tracked down his face and then he passed out.