Little gift for you
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Chapter 40: Remnants of the Past
It was a busy morning at the FBI office in New York. Grant had just received a call from the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU), led by Aaron Hotchner, asking for his help on a sensitive case involving a serial killer who was moving between New York and Virginia. Grant, with his expertise in behavior and tactics, seemed like the ideal person to help.
When he shared the news with Isobel Castille, his girlfriend and direct boss, she agreed with the importance of him being involved in the case, but something in her expression suggested an uneasiness she tried to hide.
"Does the BAU need you?" Isobel asked casually, as she reviewed reports.
"Yeah, Hotch called me," Grant replied, pulling on his coat. "They're in the middle of a complicated case, and I think I can help."
"Okay," Isobel said, without looking up, but her voice carried a slight edge of tension. "Who's on the team now?"
"The same as always: Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, Reid, JJ, Garcia...and Prentiss," he replied, not noticing the subtle change in Isobel's posture at the mention of the last name.
She simply nodded, but inside, a heat of discomfort grew. Isobel knew that Grant and Emily Prentiss had a history. Even though it was in the past, she couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that emerged.
Grant arrived at the BAU headquarters in Virginia early in the afternoon. He was greeted warmly by Aaron Hotchner, who shook his hand firmly.
"Grant, thanks for coming so quickly," Hotch said.
"Sure, Hotch. What do you have for me?"
Hotch led him to the conference room, where the team was already assembled. Dave Rossi waved with a smile, and Derek Morgan gave Grant a light slap on the shoulder.
"Good to see you, man," Morgan said. "I hear you're still a legend in the FBI."
"He always was," Rossi said, chuckling.
Grant shrugged with a small smile, and then his eyes found Emily Prentiss. She looked almost surprised to see him there, but quickly regained her composure.
"Grant," she said with a slight smile. "I didn't expect us to meet like this again."
"Prentiss," he replied, keeping the conversation professional but with a warm expression.
As they worked on the case together, the dynamic between Grant and the team was fluid. He fit in perfectly, offering tactical and psychological insights that complemented the profile the team had already drawn up of the killer.
During a break, Emily approached him.
"It's good to see you again," she said, crossing her arms. "You seem to be doing well."
"And so are you," Grant replied. "You've always been good at what you do."
Emily smiled, but before the conversation could move forward, Spencer Reid interrupted them with an update on the case.
Meanwhile, in New York, Isobel tried to focus on work, but her mind kept wandering back to Grant and his interactions with Emily Prentiss. She knew it was irrational to feel jealous, but she couldn't help it.
Maggie Bell noticed Isobel's unusual behavior and decided to ask.
"Isobel, are you okay?"
"Yes, why?" Isobel replied quickly.
"You seem distracted," Maggie said, raising an eyebrow.
Isobel sighed and decided to spill the beans. "Grant is helping the BAU on a case. And Emily Prentiss is there."
Maggie blinked. "Prentiss? She's the one who..."
"Yes," Isobel interrupted. "They had a thing a long time ago."
Maggie smiled slightly. "But that was in the past, right? You know he's with you now. There's no reason to worry."
"I know," Isobel said, trying to convince herself.
After two days, the case was solved, and Grant returned to New York. He arrived home exhausted but relieved. When he walked in, he found Isobel on the couch, going through some files.
"Hey," he said, setting his backpack down.
"Hi," she replied, trying to sound casual. "How was it with the BAU?"
"Deal," he said, sitting down next to her. "It was good working with them again. Hotch is an incredible leader, and the team is as sharp as ever."
Isobel hesitated for a moment before asking, "What about Emily? How was it working with her again?"
Grant caught the tone in her question and tilted his head. "It was professional, Isobel. Nothing more."
She sighed. "Sorry. I know this is silly, but I couldn't help but feel a little... insecure."
Grant took her hand and looked into her eyes. "Isobel, you have no reason to feel this way. My past with Emily is in the past. You are my present and my future."
She smiled slightly, feeling the weight of her insecurities lift. "Thanks for saying that."
The next day, at the office, Grant met Maggie, OA, Jubal, Tiffany, and Scola at the café.
"I heard you made quite an impression on the BAU," OA commented.
"Hotch always knows how to use the right people," Grant replied with a smile.
Maggie nudged OA, as if had an idea. "And how did it go with Emily?"
Grant narrowed his eyes at Maggie, noticing her teasing tone. "Professional, as always."
OA laughed. "Isobel was a little tense while you were there."
"I know," Grant said, shaking his head. "But we've talked about it."
Maggie smiled. "Good luck with that."
Grant laughed, but inwardly he felt relieved that he had resolved the situation with Isobel. Work was always intense, but it was his relationship with her that made him want to come home every day.
Chapter 41: Just the Two of Us
It was a quiet morning in Grant and Isobel's apartment. The soft light of dawn was beginning to filter through the bedroom curtains, but Isobel was still fast asleep, tangled in the sheets. Grant, already awake, lay beside her, watching her with a peaceful smile. Ever since their recent conversation about insecurities, he had been thinking of ways to prove to her that she was the only person in his life.
He knew that words were important, but he also wanted to show it with actions. At that moment, an idea came to him: a gesture of affection to start the day and reinforce how special she was to him.
Carefully, he approached, planting a soft kiss on Isobel's exposed shoulder. She mumbled softly, still half asleep, but did not fully wake up.
"Good morning, my love," Grant whispered against her skin, as he continued to kiss her, slowly moving down her arm to her collarbone.
Isobel opened her eyes slowly, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. "Grant, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice husky with sleep.
"Showing me how much you mean to me," he replied, looking into her eyes before leaning down to kiss her again.
His lips met hers, and the kiss started softly but quickly deepened. Grant explored every corner of Isobel's face with kisses: her eyelids, her cheeks, the contours of her jaw. When he reached her neck, he ran his tongue lightly over her skin, gently teasing her.
Isobel giggled softly, feeling tickled. "You're being very affectionate today," she said, still a little surprised by the intensity of the gesture.
"I want you to never have any doubt that it's only you for me," he said, his voice low and serious, as he continued to explore her body with kisses and touches.
Grant gently pulled back the sheets, revealing more of Isobel's skin as his hands gently roamed her body. He knew every detail, every curve, and made sure to show how much he appreciated every part of her.
"Grant," she whispered, touching his face with her fingertips. "I already know that. You don't have to prove anything."
He paused for a moment, looking at her with a soft smile. "But I want to. I want you to feel this, Isobel. I want you to never have any doubts."
Isobel felt her heart warm at his words. She knew Grant was a man of action, someone who showed his feelings in tangible ways. And in that moment, she could feel all the love he had for her.
Grant continued, alternating between kisses and caresses, until Isobel couldn't contain her laughter. "You're tireless, aren't you?"
"Not when it comes to you," he replied with a playful smile.
After a while together, the two finally got up to start the day. Isobel was even more relaxed and smiling, while Grant looked pleased with himself.
In the kitchen, as they prepared coffee, Isobel paused for a moment, holding Grant's arm.
"Thank you," she said, looking him in the eye. "For being you. For reminding me how important we are to each other."
"Always," he replied, pulling her into a hug. "I wouldn't trade it for the world."
As they shared breakfast, Isobel felt that any doubts or insecurities she might have had before were completely gone. Grant was there for her, not just in words, but in his every action.
And that, for her, was more than enough.
Chapter 42: Vargas' Last Game
The case of Antonio Vargas was far from over. After his arrest, the cartel boss decided to play one last card, challenging the FBI. Vargas, sitting in the interrogation room, with a cold smile on his lips, addressed Isobel, Grant, Rina Trenholm and Assistant Director Reynolds.
"Do you think you've won?" he said calmly, but with a threatening tone. "I have three bombs planted in Central Park. If I don't get out of here in an hour, everything will blow up."
The room fell silent. Vargas' serious tone and the way he spoke left no doubt about his seriousness. Isobel exchanged a look with Grant, who remained impassive.
"If this is a bluff..." Rina began, but was interrupted by Vargas.
"Do you want to pay to see? Or would you rather save lives?" he retorted, leaning back in his chair.
The tension in the FBI office was palpable. Isobel quickly called her team together for an emergency briefing.
"We have one hour," she began, her voice firm. "Jubal, Tiffany, and Scola, you will go to Central Park. When we have the codes, you will disarm the bombs. Grant, OA, and Maggie, you will go to Mexico. We need Vargas's family. Record something that will give us an advantage. We will play the same dirty game he did."
Grant nodded, already formulating a plan in his mind. "I have contacts in Mexico. We will need untraceable transportation and a convincing disguise. Maggie, OA, trust me."
Grant, OA, and Maggie arrived in Mexico in a small private plane, provided by one of Grant's old contacts from his DEVGRU days. They landed in a secluded spot, where they changed into their street clothes, typical of the region.
"Camouflage is key," Grant explained as he handed OA and Maggie worn clothing and accessories. "No one can identify us as foreigners, much less FBI agents."
"Have you done this before?" OA asked as she adjusted the straw hat Grant handed her.
Grant gave her a small smile. "More times than I can count."
With their plan in place, they approached the Vargas mansion, a sprawling compound surrounded by high walls and armed guards.
"We're going in unseen," Grant instructed. "We don't want confrontation, just evidence. Record everything. If anyone asks, we're here to deliver a message."
Moving like shadows, Grant, OA, and Maggie climbed over the back wall of the mansion and hid in the bushes.
They made their way toward the main house, avoiding the guards patrolling the grounds. In the mansion's living room, Vargas's eldest daughter and her younger brother were talking. The two seemed oblivious to the danger their father faced.
Grant whispered to OA and Maggie, "Record from here. We don't need to get any closer. Just show enough to convince Vargas that we have his family under control."
Maggie adjusted the camera on her phone and began recording. OA kept an eye on the surroundings, making sure no one saw them.
When they were done, Grant signaled for them to back off. "Now, we leave exactly as we came in. No trace."
Back at the FBI in New York, Isobel received the video and showed it to Vargas in the interrogation room.
"Do you recognize these people?" Isobel asked, displaying the video on the tablet.
Vargas, who had been looking arrogant until then, changed his expression when he saw his children's faces on the screen.
"What did they do?" he asked, his voice wavering for the first time.
"Nothing… yet," Isobel replied firmly. "But if something happens in Central Park, I can guarantee they will suffer the consequences too."
Vargas swallowed hard. He knew he had no choice. "The codes," he said reluctantly as he dictated them.
In Central Park, Jubal, Tiffany, and Scola were in position, each next to one of the bombs. Once they had received the codes, they began working to disarm them.
"If this doesn't work..." Scola began, but was interrupted by Tiffany.
"It will work. Trust me."
One by one, the bombs were defused. When the last one stopped counting, there were only ten seconds left.
"We're in the clear," Jubal announced over the radio, relieved.
Grant, OA, and Maggie returned to Mexico the same way they had arrived, without a trace. They boarded Grant's private plane and were on their way to New York.
During the flight, Maggie glanced at Grant. "How do you keep your cool in situations like this?"
Grant smiled. "Years of practice. And a little trust in my teammates."
OA laughed. "You make it sound easy, but I know it's not."
Grant shrugged. "It's part of the job. And you guys were amazing out there. You're a reliable team."
Back at the FBI office, Isobel thanked everyone for a successful operation. Vargas was taken into custody, and New York was safe once again.
Grant watched Isobel stood back as she coordinated the last details. When she finally approached, he smiled.
"Good job, boss," he said.
"You too, El Diablo," she replied with a mischievous smile.
Grant laughed, shaking his head. "I knew that nickname would come back to haunt me."
They both laughed, relieved that everything had turned out okay, at least for now.
Chapter 43: Memories at the Museum
The atmosphere was heavy at the National September 11 Museum in New York City. The group of Grant, Isobel, OA, Maggie, Tiffany, Scola, and Jubal walked silently through the halls, looking at the artifacts, images, and videos that told the story of one of the darkest days in American history. It was the anniversary of the attack, and the weight of memory was present in every corner of the place.
Scola seemed especially shaken. He stopped in front of each exhibit, watching silently, his eyes welling up. Maggie stood by his side, offering support with a light touch on his shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" she asked carefully.
Scola shook his head, taking a deep breath. "My brother... He was in the World Trade Center that day. I can't stop thinking about him."
Maggie nodded, respecting the moment. Jubal, who was nearby, walked over and put his hand on Scola's shoulder.
"We all lost something that day," Jubal said softly. "But it just reinforces why we do what we do."
The group reached the section of the museum devoted to military operations and the U.S. response to 9/11. One of the exhibits was dedicated to Operation Neptune Spear, the mission that resulted in the death of Osama bin Laden. A combat suit was on display, with a plaque crediting Rob O'Neill as the operator who had fired the fatal shot.
Grant stood in front of the suit, his face impassive. He crossed his arms and stood silently, surveying the display. OA and Maggie noticed his reaction but said nothing.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Tiffany said, moving closer to Scola. "To imagine what they went through on that mission..."
Scola nodded, still emotional. "Yeah, but it's weird. I can't imagine the weight it must be to carry something like that."
Jubal called Tiffany and Scola to a secluded corner, where OA and Maggie were already standing. Isobel, noticing the movement, glanced at Grant, who remained standing there, staring at the display. Jubal looked at Tiffany and Scola's faces, seemingly measuring his words.
"There's something you need to know about Grant."
Tiffany frowned. "What about him?"
OA sighed. "Remember what we said about him being a legend in the SEALs? Well, there are rumors and I want to make it clear that these are just rumors that he was in Operation Neptune Spear."
Tiffany's eyes widened. "You're kidding."
Maggie shook her head. "No. And more than that some say he was the real operator who shot bin Laden. Not Rob O'Neill."
Scola looked skeptical. "But O'Neill has been officially credited. There are even books and interviews."
"Yes," Jubal replied. "But the special operations community has never officially confirmed anything. There's a lot of controversy about it. And Grant... Well, he's never talked about it. He's never confirmed or denied it."
Tiffany glanced back at Grant, who was still standing in front of the suit. "If that's true, it makes sense how secretive he is about his past."
OA crossed his arms. "He's never been the kind of guy to seek recognition. For him, it's always about the mission, never about ego."
Meanwhile, Isobel had moved closer to Grant. She could tell something was on his mind.
"Are you okay?" she asked, lightly touching his arm.
Grant smiled slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on the display. "I am. It just reminded me of a few things."
"You never talk about that period," Isobel said softly.
He turned to her, his eyes filled with memories he'd never shared. "Some things are better left in the past, Belle. It's not what we do that matters, but why we do it."
She nodded, respecting his silence. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here."
Grant just smiled and gave a small wave. "Thank you." ]
The group ended their visit in front of the Twin Towers Memorial, where the names of the victims were engraved on bronze plaques. Scola stopped in front of his brother's name, placing his hand on the cool metal.
Grant silently approached, standing next to Scola. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely.
"Thank you," Scola replied, never taking his eyes off the name. "He's the reason I'm here. He's the reason I do what I do."
Grant nodded. "And it's people like him that we keep fighting for."
As the group left the memorial, the weight of the day was still present, but there was also a renewed sense of purpose. Each of them was there for a reason, and even with the secrets they carried, they knew they were united by a greater purpose: to protect and to serve.
Chapter 44: Truths and Contradictions
The FBI office in New York was relatively quiet that morning. Isobel and part of the team Jubal, OA, Maggie, Tiffany, and Scola were gathered in the break room to have coffee before starting their workday. The TV, as usual, was tuned to a news channel, and that's when something caught everyone's attention.
"Today, on the anniversary of the operation that killed Osama Bin Laden, we're reviewing conflicting accounts from two Navy SEALs who participated in the mission," the news anchor announced.
The group stopped talking, their eyes returning to the screen.
"Oh, this again," OA muttered, crossing her arms.
The segment began to show old interviews with Matt Bissonnette and Rob O'Neill, two of the SEALs who claimed to have participated in Operation Neptune Spear.
"According to Matt Bissonnette's account, the team entered bin Laden's compound in Abbottabad, and he believes it was a collective effort that led to the al-Qaeda leader's death. He was also critical of the way the operation was handled publicly," the anchor explained.
The screen switched to an excerpt from an interview with Bissonnette:
"It was a team mission. It doesn't matter who pulled the trigger. What matters is that the mission was successfully completed," he said.
The screen then cut to Rob O'Neill, who had stated in an earlier interview:
"I walked into the room and saw bin Laden. He was right there at the end of the hallway. I shot him, and he went down. Game over."
"On the other hand," the anchor continued, "Rob O'Neill is often credited as the man who fired the fatal shot, but his version of events has been questioned, even within the special operations community."
"Interesting how the accounts never match up," Scola commented, frowning as he watched.
"This has become a battle of egos," Maggie said, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Not uncommon," OA added. "Especially on missions as high-profile as this. Everyone wants to be the hero."
Tiffany tilted her head curiously. "But why has the special operations community never officially confirmed anything? It seems they prefer to keep it a secret."
Jubal replied, "Because that's how they work. Clandestine operations are just that—clandestine. Revealing details only causes more problems."
As they continued to watch, Grant walked into the room, holding a file. He glanced at the TV for a moment before walking over to the coffee machine.
"Talking about the Neptune Spear again?" he asked casually.
Isobel, who had been watching silently, replied, "Yeah, it seems the news channels love to rehash that every year."
Grant shrugged, pouring his coffee. "There's always something to speculate about, isn't there?"
Tiffany and Scola exchanged glances before Scola asked, "What about you, Grant? Any thoughts on these conflicting accounts?"
Grant paused for a moment, holding his coffee cup. He gave a slight smile before replying, "Opinions don't matter. What matters is that the mission was a success."
Later, as Grant left the room, Tiffany glanced at the others. "Did you notice how he avoided the question?"
Maggie nodded. "Grant is a closed book when it comes to his past. He never gives anything away."
"Which is exactly why the rumors are going around," Jubal commented. "The military community knows that someone other than O'Neill and Bissonnette was there. But who? That's never been confirmed."
OA sighed. "Or maybe the man who actually pulled the trigger doesn't want the credit. Have you thought about that?"
"Do you think it might have been Grant?" Tiffany asked directly.
OA hesitated, but finally said, "There are enough rumors to make it seem plausible. He was in DEVGRU at the time. He never talks about it. And the community respects him too much to be just another SEAL."
Later, in Isobel's office, she called him aside for a private conversation.
"I saw their reaction in the room," she said. "And I saw yours, too."
Grant arched an eyebrow. "And what did you see?"
"You were uncomfortable. Whenever this subject comes up, you act like you want to be somewhere else."
He sighed and sat down in the chair across from her desk. "It's not about discomfort, Belle. It's about what really matters. The mission is complete. That's all anyone needs to know."
"And you never thought to set the record straight?"
Grant shook his head. "For what? To fuel more speculation? To put me in the middle of a war of egos? No, thank you."
Isobel nodded, realizing she would never get more out of him than that. "I just want you to know that if you want to talk about it, I'm here."
"I know," he said with a small smile. "But some things belong in the past."
As the day wore on, the group still discussed the stories and the contradictory statements made in the news. But for Grant, the matter was closed. He knew the truth, and that was enough for him.
In the hallways of the office, conversations about the rumors continued, but Grant walked through them with the same equanimity as ever. He needed no recognition, no validation. His mission was to protect, to serve, and to ensure that the next generation of agents and operators understood that duty came before ego.
And even if others would never know the whole truth, he was at peace with that. After all, as he always said, "It's not about who does it, it's about why we do it."
Chapter 45: The Call from JSOC
It was an ordinary morning at the FBI's New York office. Grant was sitting at his desk reviewing intelligence reports on a case involving human trafficking when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw a number he recognized but rarely called.
He answered with a calm but firm tone:
"Shawn."
"Grant, this is General Michael Reynolds from JSOC. We need you for an operation. It's urgent."
Grant narrowed his eyes, already feeling the weight of the conversation. Joint Special Operations Command had rarely contacted him since his retirement from active duty, except in extraordinary circumstances.
"Understood. What are we talking about?"
"I can give you preliminary details now, but the rest will have to wait until you get to base. We have a terrorist cell on the move in Central Asia. Recent intel indicates they're planning something big, and we need someone with your experience in covert operations."
Grant glanced at his watch. "How much time do I have?"
"A helicopter will be at the nearest heliport in an hour. We'll be waiting."
Before leaving, Grant went to Isobel's office, who was busy with a phone call. He waited patiently until she finished.
"Grant, what's wrong?" she asked, noticing his serious expression.
"I've been called by JSOC. They need me on an operation."
Isobel was silent for a few seconds, clearly worried.
"You know it's not your responsibility anymore, right?"
"I know," he replied. "But when they call, it's because they have no other option. It's temporary, Belle. I'll be back as soon as I'm done."
She sighed, trying to hide how much this bothered her.
"Just... be careful, okay? I don't want to get any bad news."
Grant leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I always do. You know that."
The helicopter took Grant to a military base outside Washington, D.C., where he was met by a team of high-ranking officers and elite operatives. Among them was General Reynolds, a tall, imposing man with graying hair and a rigid posture.
"Grant, good to see you again," the general said, extending his hand.
"You too, sir," Grant replied, shaking the man's hand firmly.
They entered a conference room, where a detailed map of Central Asia was projected on the screen. Around the table were other members of the team: operatives from DEVGRU, Delta Force, and CIA agents.
"Here's the briefing," Reynolds began. "Our target is a terrorist cell led by a man named Rashid Al-Hamadi. He's responsible for a series of recent attacks in the Middle East and Europe. Our intelligence suggests he's planning something in the United States."
Grant studied the map, absorbing the information.
"And what do we know about his location?"
A CIA officer responded:
"He's holed up in a mountain fortress in Tajikistan, surrounded by heavily armed men. The area is inaccessible by land, and the airspace is monitored by commercial drones. This will be a complicated infiltration."
"Complicated is what we do best," Grant said with a slight smile.
For the next few hours, the team worked on planning the mission. The goal was to capture Al-Hamadi alive, but the priority was to deter any imminent threats.
Grant was assigned to lead a small group of operators, including members of DEVGRU and Delta Force. He went over every detail of the plan, adjusting strategies as needed.
"The infiltration will be done by helicopter," he explained. "But we'll need to descend on ropes about two kilometers from the fortress to avoid detection. From there, we'll move in quietly. Time will be of the essence."
"What if something goes wrong?" one of the operators asked.
Grant looked at him with a serious expression. "Then we do what we always do. We adapt and complete the mission."
The following night, the team set off in stealth helicopters. The atmosphere was tense, but everyone knew what was at stake. As they flew over the mountains of Tajikistan, Grant mentally reviewed each step of the operation.
Upon reaching the designated point, the team quickly descended on ropes and began advancing toward the fortress. Grant led the way, his eyes constantly scanning the area for threats.
When they reached the fortress, they encountered immediate resistance. Shots rang out, but the team was prepared. Moving with precision and coordination, they neutralized the guards and advanced into the structure.
In the center of the fortress, Grant found Al-Hamadi surrounded by two of his men. He raised his hands, but there was something in his eyes that alerted Grant.
"Watch out!" he shouted, but it was too late. Al-Hamadi tried to trigger a hidden detonator.
In one swift move, Grant fired, hitting his hand and knocking the device to the ground. The operators moved in and restrained Al-Hamadi while others disarmed the device.
"You're not going to get away that easily," Grant said, looking directly at the terrorist.
After ensuring the area was secure, the team returned to base with Al-Hamadi as their prisoner. General Reynolds was waiting for them.
"Mission successful," he said, shaking Grant's hand. "We knew we could count on you."
Grant gave a slight nod, feeling the weight of exhaustion but also the satisfaction of another mission completed.
When Grant returned to New York, it was late at night. Isobel was waiting for him at his house, relieved to see him in one piece.
"So?" she asked as he sat down on the couch.
"Mission accomplished," he said with a small smile.
Isobel put a hand on his shoulder. "I knew you could do it. But that doesn't mean I wasn't worried."
Grant held her hand, looking into her eyes. "Thank you for always supporting me. I promise I won't leave so soon again."
And for the first time in days, Grant could relax, knowing that yet another threat had been neutralized.
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