Numb3rs Fic: Pressure, Chapter Three/7
Title: Pressure
Author: aleo_70
Rating: PG 13+
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don, with cameo by David
Challenge: Clue Challenge #9, March 2010 at hurt_don . Prompts: Who? - Don ; What? - Explosion; Where? - Crime Scene.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
Spoilers: Nil
Warnings: some violence
Word count this chapter: 3593
Word count total: ~22,800
Summary: Finding himself dragged into a mad bombers plan Don wonders if he will survive the day.
CHAPTER THREE
For the first time Mason looked at his watch. After a quick glance at his fuel gauge to find as he expected that he had plenty left Don stole a look at the bomber wondering what had prompted a time check. Mason had seemed happy to let things develop on their own, the SUV’s fuel status until now allegedly being the only time limiting factor. His answer came as the man reached out and turned on the car radio. After fiddling with the tuner for a bit he selected a channel to his satisfaction.
Don grimaced as he saw the frequency on the display. It was a popular radio news channel, one that neither he nor anyone he knew listened to even if they all knew the station. It claimed to be based on news but mostly just ran breathless live commentaries to the regular high speed pursuits that seemed to fascinate the public and so-called journalists so much. They even offered a paging service to alert their faithful listeners of a pursuit in progress. If there wasn’t a pursuit Kal-News filled their newscasts with highlights of the most recent chase before running tales of robberies, assaults and murders along with tales of police failure. Their reporters seemed to take delight in interviewing victims and grieving families and asking the most ridiculous questions. Anything for ratings, nothing for common decency. Unfortunately they rated very well so nothing stopped them from seeking bigger and more sensational ways to file their reports. Don avoided them like the plague, his interests ran more to the sports channels or the more authoritative news reports.
Glancing down at his watch Don saw that it was only a minute or two before the hour. Mason was waiting for the newsbreak that would run after whatever inane advertisement they were listening to had finished blaring at them. Almost surprisingly there was some actual news when it finally started. The first item was a report on the most recent bombing even if they gave it their own twist. He could hardly have expected them not to cover such an incident, even if they rarely covered what he considered real news. The reporter sounded far more excited than shocked as she described the scene and gave a tally of the body count. Don pursed his lips at the count of six killed, a woman on the critical list had obviously died after he’d received his last update. The reporter seemed almost hopeful that a critically injured man was going to join those six causing his lip to curl in disgust. He shot a look at the cause of those deaths and found Mason listening intently, an expression more of clinical detachment on his face rather than satisfaction at his handiwork. As he pointed Don through another turn it looked almost as if he was more interested in how he was being reported rather than what was being reported. There were brief flashes of satisfaction each time the ‘mad bomber’ description was used but that was about it. Don sat through the interminable interviews with bystanders and allegedly highly qualified ‘experts’ before they finally moved onto other news with a promise to return if anything broke. Sure enough, their next item was a replay of the pursuit from earlier in the day and their desperate efforts to link the two incidents together. Although how they’d figured to do that Don didn’t have a clue.
The other man finally turned it down. “Huh.”
At the less than satisfied sound Don couldn’t keep quiet. Anger flared. “What? Not enough dead for you?”
Mason waved that off. “They call themselves News-eyes. They’re a bit slow.”
“How’s that?”
The question was ignored in favour of the bomber grabbing Don’s cell phone from its holder and deactivating the Bluetooth. After dialling Mason put the phone to his ear and waited. Apparently it rang out as he pressed the redial and waited again.
“Hello? Hey, look, there’s this black SUV driving around downtown with three cop cars behind it. Oh wait, make that four. I just saw them on Olympic. The cops aren’t pulling it over. I thought I saw it where the bomb went off earlier. Is it the car from the chase today?” In keeping with the radio station’s style he spoke in rapid, excited sentences.
Mason was playing right along with the station’s theorising, linking two totally unrelated matters together. According to the station’s own report the pursuit had involved a black compact, not a black SUV but he figured the distinction would matter little. Black was black, it would be enough for Kal-News to pounce. But Mason didn’t leave it at that, his next comments designed to make the situation he was describing something the station couldn’t ignore.
“I heard the cops say it might be The Mad Bomber.” His tone made it clear the words were capitalised, the description turned into a name. He listened a moment before pitching his voice to sound even more excited. “Cool, I’m going to be on air? Thanks man.”
Now the satisfied look was firmly back in place as the phone settings were once again adjusted and it was returned to the cradle. Don shook his head, in keeping with the station’s low credibility they’d seemingly not asked their latest informant where he was getting his material from.
“Why did you do that?” He demanded.
“If I said I was sick of you asking me questions would you leave it at that or ask another one?”
There wasn’t any threat in the man’s tone this time but Don kept his mouth shut, shaking his head again at the lack of an answer. He was just absurdly grateful that he wasn’t working in either the LAPD’s or FBI’s media centres. He was already aware of the demands that their media liaison staffs were working under, as the Agent in Charge he’d been getting requests for press conferences and interviews constantly. For the most part they’d been handled by an agent he’d appointed to that task, a waste of an agent that could otherwise have been actually working to catch the offender but the media didn’t care. After Mason’s alert to Kal-News the liaison staff, already drowning under the demands of the media over the bombings, were now about to be swamped even further. Once one station had it everyone was going to have the new twist to the story, particularly as the basic details were easily verifiable by a radio scanner or by other eyewitness accounts from unofficial ‘News-eyes’.
His line of thought was interrupted as his cell phone rang. Answering it he heard David making the expected announcement that there were going to be two more vehicles joining their procession as the FBI’s SWAT team moved into place.
“They also have instructions to follow only and not interfere.” David was explaining. “They will only act if the public are put at risk.”
“Agent Sinclair, I can detonate any time I like.” Mason pointed out calmly, the excited voice he’d used when calling the radio station was completely gone. It wasn’t escaping anyone’s attention that the public were well and truly already at risk. With the rolling crime scene on public roads it was next to impossible to keep innocent people away. “If they try anything, I will.”
Again there was no stock standard demand that the following cars back off and give them space. Don finally had one aspect of the man’s unspoken demands confirmed, he wanted attention. A black SUV being tailed by four LAPD cruisers and two other black SUVs, all with flashing red and blue lights and wailing sirens, was going to draw attention, even without Mason’s tip off.
“They won’t. They’re there to make sure you don’t have any problems getting what you want.” David tried again to get more information.
“And I thank you for that. They are helping nicely.”
“What?”
Again Don was forced to cut his agent off. While he may have had a partial answer to Masons’ motivation, David didn’t. Not yet.
“What?” Mason demanded somewhat smugly after the silence stretched. “No questions?”
“Sure. I got questions.” Don fired back as he risked shooting a man a look that clearly said what he thought of him. “You just won’t answer any of them.”
Mason grinned right back as he goaded his hostage. Now things were going his way he seemed to feel relaxed enough to have a little fun. “I did pick right. You’re angry and you’ve certainly pissed me off but I don’t think I need to blow you up just yet.”
“You’re too kind.”
The grin widened at the growled response. “Keep doing what you’re told and if everything else pans out you’ll get to go home tonight.”
The last comment had Don calming himself down even if Mason hadn’t intended it that way. He needed to keep a cool head and not allow his frustration to get the better of him. An opportunity might present itself to end this and he had to be ready and able to act. After a couple of deep breaths he washed some of the anger away. It meant a question but it would give Mason the confirmation he seemed to want.
“What do you want me to do next?” There was going to be more than simply chauffeuring to come, he was sure of that.
“You’ll find out.” Mason seemed almost disappointed at the agent’s backing down.
The next step came all too soon for Don’s liking once he discovered what it was. They’d been continuing as before, driving around in a slowly expanding spiral. He noted a sudden movement to his left and turned to see a speeding grey van come flying towards them from the minor side street they’d just past. The van fishtailed through its turn but held and started to move up alongside, having managed to come out in front of the trailing black & whites. It had all the hallmarks of an attack even if he couldn’t fathom a reason for one. Don started to swerve towards the next lane and pressed his foot to the floor to open up some distance between them to allow the LAPD room to manoeuvre.
Mason peered out the rear passenger window and then leant across the agent to see what had prompted the reaction. He put a hand on the agent’s arm, “Stay where you are. Let them come.”
“What?”
“News van.” Mason added as if that explained everything.
Don slowed and moved back fully into the lane as he looked closer at the van that was working to catch up. Now it was obvious, the roof was covered with antennae and there was a large logo on the side of the van, all of which he’d missed in his reactive glance as it had made its hurried appearance. He identified the ‘News-eye’ logo on the side, it was from Kal-News. Nothing too surprising there, Mason had given out their location and the station had been able to track their movements by listening to LAPD radio broadcasts. The van matched their speed and the side door slid open. Don stared across and ignored the motions the man standing there was making for him to wind his window down.
“Open it.” Mason ordered.
Don glanced over to see the bomber leaning across to look at the pacing vehicle. “And then what?”
“I should have thought that obvious.”
“If you want to talk to them, you do it.” He didn’t like talking to the media at the best of times, let alone now.
“Do we have to do this every time I want you to do something, Agent. Really?” Mason complained. He raised the remote as his voice took on a flat edge. “Nothing’s changed. Open the window and answer the man’s questions.”
Stabbing at the control the agent started to wind the window down only to see the news van suddenly drop away. One of the FBI SWAT vehicles had pulled ahead on Don’s right and then across to position itself in front of the news van. The SUV had slowed and the news van was forced to brake heavily in order to avoid a collision. Concentrating on the van and Mason’s orders he’d not seen the movement until it was all over.
“No!” Mason exclaimed. He snatched at the radio handset hanging on its hook on the dash and held it out to the agent. “Tell them to back off and let them come back.”
Taking the handset he hit the button to power up the radio. By the time the set had finished its start-up though he no longer needed it, the SWAT SUV that had dropped away behind them had moved back up and was now in position beside them. He found himself staring into the sympathetic eyes of the SWAT agent riding shotgun. As he watched the man raised a digital camera and started snapping away, the SWAT vehicle moving forward a little to adjust the angle. They would finally get an image of the bomber. Following Mason’s repeated order Don waved his hand sharply, motioning for the SUV to drop back. The camera was lowered but the SUV remained in place as the agent spoke urgently into the microphone clipped to his vest. Don’s radio may have now been on but it was clear that the SWAT vehicles were operating on a different frequency just as he expected for their tactical communications. Seconds later Don’s cell rang.
“Eppes.”
“Don?” David started. “What’s going on there?”
“There was a news van beside us. Mason wants it back.”
“I can’t allow them back in harm’s way.” David responded.
Mason leaned over. “They won’t be in any danger. Unlike those agents.”
“You won’t detonate over this.” David stated at the clear threat.
“Oh? Why not? I can take out what, five, six agents instantly, plus the cops following and everyone else in fifty yard radius around us.” Mason pointed out.
In the bombers hasty response he’d given away some more information. Don knew David would have caught it but the other agent didn’t let on.
“If you wanted to do that you would have done it already.”
“Maybe I’m happy with what I can get. I’d prefer to have the news van back, they’ll be safe,” Mason repeated his reassurance. “But if not, then I’ll just make do with killing everyone.”
There was a pause as David decided what to do. Having already demonstrated his ability to set explosions without a care for any casualties the bomber was most likely not bluffing, putting David in a tough spot. Mason prodded at Don’s shoulder, clearly impatient as the silence lengthened.
Don made his own assessment of the situation, being best placed for it even if the final decision was in the other agent’s hands. Given the choices, allowing Mason to have his way on this was the better option, there could be too many civilian casualties otherwise on what was really a minor point. It was also an opportunity to perhaps get Mason to open up even if it was to a reporter. “David, he wants to go public.”
“He’s doing this to get himself on air?” David asked, incredulous as he made his assumption. “This is his demand?”
“No, not all of it. But he called them, he wants them here.” Don clarified when Mason showed no sign of interrupting. “As to what he really wants, I still have no clue.”
Another pause then, “They have safe passage?”
“They’ll be perfectly safe.” Mason offered.
“If I allow this, what do I get in return?”
“A lot of people keep breathing.”
“You included.” David said pointedly.
“Don’t make the mistake in thinking I won’t detonate just because I’ll go up too.” The annoyed tone was back. Mason’s temper seemed to be shortening with the constant questioning, the failure of everyone to simply do as he ordered. His next words proved it. “I’m going to start counting. One, two…”
Not knowing what was to be the final number on the count David jumped in on the ‘two’. “Alright. I’ll get SWAT to drop back. What the news van does is up to them, I’m not going to order them in.”
They all knew that wasn’t going to be a problem. With an opportunity such as this the news van was going to move back in as soon as it saw its chance, if all else failed the bomber could call them back and extend the invitation. Mason reached out his hand and hung up on David now that he had what he wanted. Don saw the agent in the vehicle beside him cock his head as he listened to orders coming over his radio. The man looked over at the captive agent and made a slight tilt of his head in apology as the black SUV dropped back. As expected once the spot was clear the news van moved right back in.
“Agent.” Mason prompted.
The window went the rest of the way down and Don looked across at the excited man leaning towards him, a directional microphone held back out of the wind their passage was generating.
“Is it true?” The man demanded. “Are you the bomber?”
Don wasn’t going to let that stand, much as he hated the alternative. As he answered he jerked his right hand back towards his passenger. “No. He is. I’m just the hostage.”
The journalist leant back and pushed at the shoulder of his driver and the van moved forward a little in a repeat of the SWAT vehicle’s actions allowing him to better see into the front of the SUV. The van dropped back after a moment so he could once again shout across the space between the two vehicles.
“Can we talk to him?”
Don turned away to glance at Mason, knowing the answer but hoping that the man may have changed his mind.
Mason shook his head. “Not yet.”
“He doesn’t want to talk.” Don called back the answer.
The reporter took it in stride, moving right along. “Who are you? Why has he taken you hostage?”
“FBI.” Don answered for both questions.
“Can I have your name for our listeners?”
“Special Agent Eppes.” Don ground out reluctantly at the latest prod to his shoulder.
“Agent Eppes, is the man armed? Does he have another bomb?”
If he wasn’t armed do you think I’d be a hostage? Don thought to himself and ignored that question. “He’s got two bombs.”
The reporter didn’t even flinch, clearly personal safety mattered less than the story. “What’s he going to blow up? When?”
“You’ll need to ask him that.”
“Why is he doing this? What does he want?”
“No idea.”
“Is he going to kill you?”
Don gaped at him for a moment. What the hell kind of a question was that to ask of a person under threat? “Ask him.”
“Are you afraid that he’ll kill you?” The man rephrased his question before adding a second as he seemed to like. “How does it feel to be The Mad Bomber’s hostage?”
How do you think it feels? Don thought as he fought not to say it out loud. Why did they always have to ask that question, as if common sense couldn’t provide an answer? “No comment.”
“Is there anything you want to say to your family that might be listening?”
“No comment.” He snapped back quickly. His family would most certainly not be listening and the last thing he would have wanted even if they were was a personal message going over the air. The reporter’s offer was not to help him but to further sensationalise the interview.
“Why aren’t the cops stopping you? Why are they letting you drive him around?” The reporter changed tack.
“I’m not going to discuss operational matters.” The words were spoken on autopilot. How many times over the last week had either he or the media liaison agent given that response to media Don didn’t know. They always wanted to know exactly what the FBI and LAPD were doing and why, not considering that the information would go out to where the bomber could hear it and adjust his plans accordingly.
“Are they going to meet his demands because you’re an agent?”
No. As if. “We don’t negotiate.” He bit off the ‘with terrorists’ not wanting to make this any more sensational than it already was.
“Have you arrested him?”
What the? Was the man completely stupid? “He’s holding me hostage. No, I haven’t arrested him.”
“So you tried to arrest him and he’s escaping now?” The man demanded as he jumped to a conclusion. “What did you do wrong?”
That was another reason why neither Don nor anyone he knew listened to Kal-News. The station was very much anti-police. They loved the pursuits but took every opportunity to attack the very people that were indirectly giving them their ratings.
He’d had enough, he wasn’t going to facilitate an attack on the FBI by the reporter just because he was a captive interviewee. Pressing his foot back down onto the gas he wound his window back up, making his displeasure even more evident by swerving across in front of the van so it couldn’t move back into position.
“Agent,” Mason warned as they accelerated away.
“So release the damned button. The man’s an idiot, removing him from the gene pool will do everyone a favour.” Don snapped hotly. “You talk to him. I’m done.”
Next chapter - here