Numb3rs Fic: Pressure, Chapter Five/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: 3253
Word count total: ~22,800
Summary: Finding himself dragged into a mad bombers plan Don wonders if he will survive the day.
CHAPTER FIVE
The media vehicles had dropped back now that they were on a narrower road and it was obvious that no more interviews were being given. David had checked in again but the conversation was short and handled exclusively by Mason leaving Don with the impression that he now possessed a small tid-bit of information, their destination vague as it was, that Mason didn’t want going any further at this point. Without that knowledge it was impossible for David to organise a roadblock to be set to prevent the bomber reaching his target with no idea where or what it was, or even if a hard target existed. There really wasn’t much to suggest that they weren’t just going to drive around until his fuel was exhausted or Mason’s thumb tired and he released his switch. Already he was swapping the device from hand to hand more frequently as time went on, flexing his fingers each time.
Mason noted his gaze after hanging up on David. “Worried I’ll drop it?”
“Wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
“No. That it wouldn’t.”
There was no point in asking if the remote could be saftied in some way. Doing so would remove the whole point of the device, the potential threat it posed due to its design would be nullified. Instead Don asked something else. “Do you plan on surviving this?”
“Not much point getting what I want if I don’t.” Mason clearly expected a second question but when it didn’t come, “You’re not going to ask it?”
The agent knew exactly what Mason meant, was he going to survive. “No point. You won’t tell me.”
“I meant what I said earlier. Do what I tell you and you get to go home.”
Wishing he could believe that Don concentrated on his driving. They were fast approaching a point where he may not be able to do as he was told, where he may even find himself having to push Mason into detonating if it were to the greater good. A device with as much explosive power as the one he was sitting on was not designed to simply keep one man under control. From his perspective there had to be another purpose for it to be the size it was and that was what concerned Don the most at this point, for all the good it did him. The bomber’s lack of informative answers was again working for the man. Despite his opinion on the matter the bomb may well simply be overkill and Mason actually had no intention of harming others if he was successful in his goal. There was no substantive reason at the moment, with it being pretty much just his life on the line, to resist. He certainly didn’t want to die which gave Mason power over him. No, he had to wait. At some point it would have to become clear as Mason had to make his demand to someone eventually. Don could make his decision then.
“Here, exit here.”
The order from Mason interrupted his thoughts and Don had to cut across a lane to make for the exit. He glanced up at the sign as they passed it by, Universal Studios. “The studio?”
“It’s just an exit.” Mason denied.
There was a slight tenseness now about the bomber that Don could see. Whilst this may just be an exit leading down to Buddy Holly Drive, he was sure it was more. With all the movie references in Mason’s words today, some he was only now recognising as such, the studio seemed to be a likely target. Two more turns later and it was even firmer, all the signs they were passing were pointing to the studio, each more specific than the last as the road split and led off to different areas. He eased off the accelerator and slowed, wondering if now he had enough information to stop and refuse to go further.
Mason noticed the change and leant over, lifting the remote so that it was in Don’s sight, adding emphasis to his words. “That blast radius I mentioned earlier?”
“Fifty yards.” Don supplied, feeling a sudden dread at where the other might be leading.
“That was an underestimation.” He saw his driver glance around at the traffic surrounding them. “That’s right, Agent. You could be responsible for a lot of unnecessary deaths. Take this lane.”
Jaw muscles jumping as he ground his teeth together Don looked over at the bomber. As Mason stared challengingly back Don saw nothing to suggest that the man was bluffing, his actions this past week proving he was more than capable of what he was suggesting. Seeing little option Don flicked on his indicator and all but bulldozed his way across, the traffic thickening and becoming confused due to the sirens and marked LAPD cars converging behind them. They were moving slowly now and Don regretted not taking the chance back out on the highway and halting things there.
“Lock the doors.”
“Huh?” The order wasn’t one he’d been expecting.
“Central locking. Now.”
Don pressed the button in the panel and heard the locks activate. It made sense now, travelling slowly they were at greater risk of someone trying to take the SUV by force.
The cell phone in the holder rang, the display this time showing David’s name, not ‘restricted’. It meant David was on the move, calling in from his own cell. The trailing agents would have reported on their now apparent destination and the other agent was on his way out to continue the negotiation on the scene. Negotiation by phone was always difficult, the control in the hands of the hostage taker, able to refuse to answer a call or terminate one. From the scene David had more control.
Mason reached across and answered the call. He was straight to the point. “Do not interfere, FBI.”
“Where are you going, Mason?”
“You know where I’m going. This is almost over.”
“What do you want?” From the tone in his voice it was clear that David expected an answer this time.
“Nothing you can give me.”
There was a pause before David spoke again. “Then you leave me with no choice but to have you stopped.”
“Do that and everyone dies.” Mason snapped. He let the silence lengthen for a moment as he stared across at Don. “Here, and downtown.”
“What?” Both Don and David demanded simultaneously.
“You have another device set?” David continued. This was the first time there’d been any indication of such, until now only Don and everything around his hijacked SUV had been at risk.
“You think I didn’t plan for this? I figured when it came down to it you’d be willing to write-off this agent and maybe a few others if you couldn’t get them out of the way in time.” Mason explained coldly.
“Where is it?”
“Not telling. Just know that it is somewhere very busy.” Mason said. “How many have I killed today? Six? Not a patch on what will happen if I detonate that one. Your choice. No-one else has to die today.”
Don was forced to pull to a stop as the road ahead of him came to an end at a cul-de-sac under a sign to City Walk. Traffic around them was now blocked from returning back down the road by the congregation of emergency vehicles. Mason’s insistence that they keep moving seemed to be rather redundant now.
“Seems you have stopped.” David was pointing out.
“Not yet. Keep your people back. I’m nearly done.”
“You intend to kill Agent Eppes and yourself?”
“I said no-one else has to die today, that includes this agent.”
“You intend to kill yourself?” David amended.
“Hardly. Listen up, Agent Sinclair wasn’t it?” Getting a positive response Mason continued. “Listen up. You let me do what I need to and everyone lives. Simple as that. A lot of lives are in your hands, Agent Sinclair.”
Mason ended the call and pulled the phone from the holder, shutting down the Bluetooth again before dropping the phone into a pocket. He looked over at his waiting hostage. “You trust him?”
“With my life.” Don told him.
“You are. Now, keep going.”
Looking around them again he didn’t see how he could do that. During the apparent pause in proceedings officers had left their black & whites and were attempting to clear people out of the cars around them. The abandoned vehicles now formed an even more effective roadblock. “Where?”
A hand pointed at the ‘no standing’ sign just off to their left. The sign was mounted on a standard three inch diameter metal pole standing between two sets of anti-vehicle bollards. “Through there.”
“There’s no way through.” Don tried arguing. He could see it was a weak point, the metal pole unlikely to be any real match for his SUV if he hit it with enough speed. Beyond it was the pedestrian areas of the City Walk, disappearing off to the left and right. He could see shops in both directions but had no idea what lay beyond never having felt the urge, or had any operational need, to visit the tourist oriented area of the studio.
“Don’t try me, Agent. Knock it down.”
Another glance around showed far too many people in danger. With no choice he backed up as best he could, bumping over the edge of a small traffic island behind him. Adjusting his path he pointed the nose of the SUV towards the sign as he changed back into drive. In an effort to provide as much warning of his intentions as he could he gunned his engine a couple of times as he rode the brake, allowing the vehicle to move forward just a couple of inches. He saw some of the officers stare at them before moving with more urgency now to clear people away from the pedestrian area near the arch.
“Agent.” Mason’s tone held all the warning needed, showing his displeasure at the delay.
Gunning his engine one last time he released the brake and pushed his foot flat to the floor, he needed as much momentum as possible in the short distance if he were to avoid becoming hung up on the pole. They hit it with a loud bang and he saw it snap away and disappear as they continued forward. The SUV briefly rose up on two wheels, tilting as the bent pole slid underneath one side of the heavy vehicle. It took every ounce of his concentration to maintain control once all four wheels were back on the ground and take the quick turn necessary to prevent them colliding with one of the concrete support pillars for the arch. The passenger side mirror snapped back against the body as it clipped the other pillar causing Mason to flinch away but they were through and he was hard on the brakes before they could plough into a shopfront. Pedestrians that had been milling in confusion at all the noise and the officers’ shouts had scattered and he was thankful that no-one had been injured.
“Don’t stop. Left, go left.” Mason ordered sharply.
It was tight but Don managed the turn without having to back up. Seeing that people only a short distance away seemed to be oblivious to the approaching danger Don reached out and hit the switches for his lights and siren. The noise reverberated off the shops, echoed and magnified. There was no way he wouldn’t be heard, no matter what volume their iPods may be set at. Heads turned and people started to scramble out of the way to the sides of the pedestrian thoroughfare. There was less fear in their expressions than he expected as he made his way past them, more surprise and interest.
“Even better.” Mason commented as the siren started. “Didn’t think of that. Wasn’t in the script either.”
Concentrating on what he was doing it took a moment for the words to penetrate. “Script? What script?”
Mason ignored the question, instead pointing up ahead of them. “There. Stop there.”
They’d reached the end of the thoroughfare and were now in a large open area. Up ahead was a set of buildings and a large sign that identified them as cinemas. A crowd of people were queuing for the afternoon run of movies. Between them a bright red car was parked behind some barricade ropes with a security guard standing nearby. Don recognised the car as they rolled closer as the rather specialised vehicle driven by the lead actor in a recently released movie. The guard stepped towards them but then stopped, staring at the approaching SUV as he was clearly unsure what was going on. As Don killed his siren and pulled to a stop the guard appeared to make a decision and started towards them. He waved the man back. Confused the guard stopped and instead reached for his radio as he peered around the SUV at the commotion behind it.
More concerned with what was happening inside his vehicle Don didn’t note that. “Now what?”
“Now we wait a bit. Shut it down.”
Turning off the engine and putting the SUV into park Don had time now to spare to look around them. Given that it was a Saturday afternoon the place was fairly crowded, the pedestrians that had scattered with the unexpected arrival of a vehicle in their midst were now starting to move back in. Some were even raising cameras and started snapping photos of the scene developing in front of them. Most of their faces wore the same expression of surprise and interest he’d seen before now that the initial fear had worn off. They had plenty to be afraid of, they just didn’t know it. Finally he realised why they were reacting the way they were as more and more of the crowd started filming and taking shots. This was a movie studio lot, it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that what there were witnessing was some sort of promotional stunt show for a movie.
Heads started to turn and Don looked back to see LAPD officers reach the edge of the crowd. Behind them he could see the SWAT team running up, now having to lug all their gear on foot. Concentrating on them for the moment he saw them split up, one agent waving his arms clearly giving orders for some of the agents to seek vantage points now that the rolling hostage drama had developed into a static siege. It was turning into precisely the type of situation that Mason had claimed earlier not to want.
Behind the agents he could see the media pack arriving, cameras mounted on shoulders. Not interested in them he changed his focus to see the LAPD officers attempt to push the crowd back but they were spread far too thinly to do much good. Finally a couple of golf buggies pulled up bearing more studio security guards. Don could hear shouts as questions were asked and orders given but couldn’t hear the actual words with his windows closed and the increasing buzzing from the crowd. The crowd was slowly pushed back but it wasn’t far enough or fast enough for his liking. He clearly understood why that was the case, even with the security guards the officers were greatly outnumbered, their efforts further hampered by the crowds’ general curiosity towards what was happening making them reluctant to leave. The size of the crowd also meant that the LAPD could hardly announce that there was a bomb without causing unnecessary panic. Reinforcements were desperately needed, sheer manpower would be able to get the crowd moving.
“Give me my cell.” Don demanded.
“Why?”
Don turned on the man. “Damnit, Mason! There are kids out there. We need to get the area cleared.”
“Not much point putting on a show without an audience.”
“I think there’s been enough of a show for one day. It’s time to end this. Let them go.”
Mason looked critically at the crowd around them and the efforts being made to move them back. He shifted in his seat and checked his watch. “I think you may be right. Give me the keys.”
Reaching out to the ignition he yanked them out and handed them over. The SUV was now effectively disabled and not going anywhere which was just fine by him.
“Hands on top of the steering wheel.”
Frowning at the latest unexpected order he gripped the wheel, wondering what Mason was intending to do next. He watched as the man reached into a pocket and pulled out a cell phone Don hadn’t seen before.
“Stay very still, Agent. I don’t want to have to interrupt this call.” The bomber instructed. “Try anything and I might drop this.”
He rested his right hand, currently holding the remote on the window sill, the hand slightly raised. Don understood what he was doing after a few seconds thought, the move made the remote visible to any snipers setting their shots. Mason still held all the cards and wasn’t above making it obvious. Taking the agent’s silence and stillness as compliance he pressed a speed dial and lifted his cell to his ear.
“Brock Management?” Mason queried when the call went through. “Put me through to Brock. … Tell him it’s urgent. … Pete Mason.”
Now Don had a name, a full name. He could do nothing with it but there was something in knowing the man’s full name.
“Brock? You watching TV? … That’s the one. What do you think?” Mason listened for a while. “That’s what I was aiming for. There are a few things I think they need to add to the script but you’ll have to agree now that I’m right for the part.”
“What the hell?” Don couldn’t help demanding out loud, interrupting Mason’s call against the man’s clear order. Everything suddenly clicked into place, the constant movie references, mentions of scripts and the desire to be labelled by the media as a mad bomber. Now the call to a talent management agency, one he’d never heard of but it seemed obvious enough what they were. Mason was a wannabe actor. “This is for a movie? You want a part in a damned movie?”
“Hang on Brock.” Mason lowered the phone and cast an angry glare at the fuming agent. “I told you not to interrupt.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do about it, blow us up?” Don challenged, his temper going way beyond boiling point. “Won’t be in any movies if you do that.”
“Right.” Mason snapped crossly, sounding very much like a parent that had just had enough of a child’s tantrum. He slapped the cell phone down on the dash and swapped hands with the remote. Before Don could wonder what he was doing he dug under his right leg and came up with the gun he’d taken from the agent earlier.
To his instant chagrin Don realised he’d completely forgotten about the Glock. As the weapon came up he saw the intent on Mason’s face and realised he was in desperate danger. He raised his hands, backing away as best he could in the car. “No, wait-“
It was too late, in the same movement Mason had twisted and leant forwards, adjusting his aim in the last instant until the muzzle almost touched his target. Ignoring the agent’s plea and showing absolutely no hesitation he pulled the trigger.
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