Turn of Events

South Gate

Callen expected Janvier to ring him earlier than the time he stated. He was used to the older man's antics and had hoped to move faster than him. But once again he failed. The call came five minutes after he'd left for the Montebello address.

"Agent G. Callen. Have you worked out who I have?" Janvier's French accent accentuated his harsh words as he spoke to him.

"Me for her. You do not harm or touch her in anyway." Callen dreaded what injury or emotional strain the Frenchman could do to Nell before he got there.

"I see I have chosen the right one then. I did wonder about your daughter's mother, but your analyst was a better choice." He breathed deeply, satisfied he'd picked the right one.

"Time and place." Callen had no patience for Janvier's games. Not when it came to the lives of those he cared about.

"You were never a patient one, were you?"

Callen continued his drive without responding, hoping to get to the location sooner, rather than later.

"Okay, I'll give it to you. Branyon Avenue, South Gate. First lane way on the left, fourth building on your right. Come alone, or Miss Jones dies." Janvier disconnected the call and smiled through the one way mirror at his hostage. It had gone better than he'd expected. The car crash took the woman's memory and ability to talk. She had a fractured radius and ulna near the elbow, from the impact and a few bruised ribs. So far that was all the injuries he could see, with the small amount of medical equipment he'd procured with the doctor.

"I'll be there." Callen pressed down as hard as he could as he sped to the destination. Fifteen minutes later he pulled up outside the warehouse. He scanned the area and hoped Eric had found him, but as he stepped inside, he felt he'd walked into a hospital. He couldn't hear anyone and he was surprised to find Nell on her own in a bed. He furrowed his brow in confusion and wondered what kind of game Janiver was playing with them now.

"Nell, it's me, Matt. Got to get you out of here." He assessed her injuries and noted the plaster on her left arm.

Nell opened her eyes and tried to move away from him. "Who are you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, slowly it was coming back after the seat belt bruised her voice box.

Callen saw the fear in her eyes and his heart broke when he saw the injury just inside her hairline. Concussion that had made her lose her memory.

"It's Callen. We work together. I need to get you out of here and take you to somewhere safe."

"I don't know a Callen, Matt or Nell." Her voice quivered as doubt entered her mind over the intruder.

"I need you to trust me, Nell. Nell Jones, that's your name." He pulled out his cell and showed her a photo of the two of them with Emily. "That's Emily, my daughter. You were at her house earlier helping her work out what to wear to the Father-Daughter picnic." He prayed that the photo would jog her memory.

Nell nodded and allowed him to take her, now that he had proof that they were friends. As Callen led her outside, disbelief of his missing car was written on his face. He pulled out his cell to call for help, but a gun to his head made him stop. He couldn't even get an agent needs assistance alert out and mentally gave himself a Gibbs head slapped over his disregard for protocols. No one in his team knew where he was.

Marcel Janiver clapped his hands and gave an evil laugh at the hero attempts made by the Federal Agent. "When will you learn, G. Callen, that I am smarter than you are at this game?"

Callen turned and saw his nemesis, holding his newly acquired robotic arm and hand. "How did you escape?"

"Oh that bit was easy. Due to the long lockdown placed on me, it takes a day or two before someone realises that I am missing. "I did tell you to read the Count of Monte Cristo for your own good."