Project 'C'.

Chapter 3

Callen headed to a spot he had used as a child, he needed to gather his thoughts and process the information he had learned.

Processed….that word had had a whole other meaning 24 hours ago. He thought grimly.

He needed answers and to get them he needed to find Daniel Hurst.

He could not stay at a motel, they'd be looking for him, shelters weren't safe either, he smiled as he walked up to the small building, it was still empty and boarded up, he pried a sheet of metal away from the rotting wood in the back window and climbed inside.

As expected his walk through the musty and dank building confirmed it was empty, he climbed to the top floor avoiding rotting stairs and floorboards, going to a window at the front of the building. He did not need to open it, the glass in the window had been broken years ago, he smiled at the memory, he had broken it himself when he was thirteen, this was one of his boltholes that no one, not even child services, had found. He ran his hand over the inscription in the rotting wood frame, G. Callen, '82. Remembering when he had hidden here last.

He lay out his bedroll, opened a bottle of water, and took a small drink, already realizing the need to ration the food and water he had managed to take from his house.

He lay back and closed his eyes, his mind rapidly scanning the files in his head; He did not think he was anything different, he knew he was smarter that some people, but then other people were smarter than he was. He had always thought like this, there could not be anything in his head, could there be? In addition…if there was could the CIA use it to track him and kill him?

He didn't know, although he hoped not, he needed to find Daniel Hurst and find out what he had done to him as a child, and why he'd done the same thing to his sister….Did his sister really drown, or had the CIA killed her too? Was his mother killed because of this project and not because of the Comescu's?

He had so many questions; he opened his eyes swiping angrily at the tears that were sneaking their ways out of his eyes.

He had trusted the Hurst's more than Hetty, more than the Rostoffs, more than Sam. They had been the nearest thing he had known in his life as family and they had lied to him, they had known his sister, they had ….he stopped as his mind suddenly flipped correlating all the little bit of information he had on the Hurst's. Small things that at the time, as a child he had not understood, but now it was making more sense.

Callen had woken up in hospital, his head hurt and he could hear voices in the background.

"He'll be awake soon, what's the processing speed?" A man said.

"Over 30 terabytes, this is the most ever recorded, it seems to be interacting with his imagination, I mean, doctor he seems to be synchronizing."

"Good….Good, I told them he'd be good for this, ever since I saw his brain scans after the accident, I realized he had the gene mutation that made him perfect for this, the injury…giving him brain damage in just the right place helped tremendously." A pleased voice said.

"Do you think the lack of brain damage in the first subject was what made her…default?"

"Possibly, that and the attachment to her family, she wanted her mother and baby brother. This subject doesn't have that problem and he is our last chance, the mother died and if it doesn't work with him, then if he survives we would have to hope he grew up and had children with the same genetic mutation, he is the last of his line, there are no more Callen's to work with."

Callen stirred, "Mama?" he said

A woman's hand…Emma's he thought… reached over and stroked his head, "Shh, you're being very brave, sleep now," She said and he closed his eyes and slept again.