FIC: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 7/?
Title: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 7
Author: Valerie Vancollie (valeriev84 [at] hotmail.com)
Characters: Charlie, Don
Pairings: brief canon mentions of Charlie/Amita & Don/Robin
Rating: 15
Summary: There was a certain irony to the situation, that the brother who was a federal agent had been abducted to be used as leverage against the brother who was an applied mathematics professor at a highly respected college. Don Whump, Charlie Angst!
Betas: aleo_70 & fredbassett
Spoilers: Uncertainty Principle, Vector, Man Hunt, Dark Matter, Spree, Two Daughters, Brutus, Finders Keepers, One Hour, The Janus List, Breaking Point, Black Swan, When Worlds Collide, The Decoy Effect, Jack of All Trades, Arrow of Time, The Fifth Man, Greatest Hits, Angels and Devils
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Numb3rs characters, items or situations. I only lay claim to the original aspects of the fic.
Part II: Don: Fugitive Recovery
Chapter 7:
Saturday, 08:46
Basement, Unknown Location
"Door behind you on the left," Banner instructed.
Warily, Don turned so he could see the door but also keep an eye on Frazer at the same time. As he'd feared, it wasn't the door with the locks, so it looked like he wouldn't be learning too much about the layout of the building he was in. The cuffs made it slightly difficult to open the door, but he managed it, revealing a small windowless room with a toilet, washbasin, mirror and nothing else apart from a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The room had obviously been carefully checked and cleared of anything that could be used as a weapon or means of escape. Even the mirror, which could technically be used to cause some damage under the right circumstances, appeared to be glued to the wall. It was therefore no surprise to him that they let him pull the door shut behind him.
Not wanting to give Frazer any time to give in to temptation, Don took care of business as quickly as he could with his hands cuffed before he stopped to look at his face in the mirror. As he'd feared, his left eye was bruising spectacularly though it didn't look like it would puff shut on him entirely. He'd managed to move his head enough so the punch wasn't as successful as it might otherwise have been. He also had an assortment of cuts and scrapes, most no doubt from the pavement, scattered across his face and his upper lip was slightly swollen. His skin was paler than normal, making every injury stand out along with the stubble on his cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes.
Charlie was going to get a nasty shock.
Don's fists clenched at the thought even as he hoped the bruising around his left eye had not yet fully developed at the time of the photos. It was little consolation and would only make the shock of any subsequent photos Charlie might receive that much worse. The helplessness welled up in Don again as he stepped back to the door, not wanting Frazer to come at him in the small space. There had to be something he could do! In a way, what they were planning to do to his little brother amounted to torture, psychological torture true, but torture nonetheless. Charlie already wasn't able to deal with emotions very well, something like this... it would be unbearable for him.
When Don stepped back into the main room of the basement, he was pleasantly surprised to find Frazer gone, though Keane was there to take his place.
"Good morning, Agent Eppes," Keane said politely, his eyes giving him a once over. "Back to your chair and then you can have some breakfast."
The tone and offer of food were so surprising, so jarring, after the violence from earlier and the matter-of-fact confirmation of his planned execution, that Don could only stare at the man for a moment before he moved back towards his chair as ordered. Banner was still watching him too closely for him to try anything and he knew Keane would be able to get at his Beretta before he'd covered even half the distance to him.
The man moved like someone who'd been highly trained and Don knew he'd have lightning quick reflexes. He was either a former law enforcement officer of some sort himself or military, though he'd put his money on the latter. It explained why he'd been so surprised to see Keane's longish hair when he'd first gotten a good look at him at CalSci. He supposed it made sense, though, as this haircut allowed for a quick change in style if necessary and didn't scream military the way regulation hair did. Some of the special forces teams wore their hair like this for those very same reasons.
Once he was seated, Banner moved in closer so he could better cover Don but he carefully stayed out of striking distance. Keane then retied his legs and left hand to the chair. That done, the man undid the cuffs before stepping aside and picking up a tray from the floor next to the chair and placing it on his lap. All the while, Don was aware of the quick, furtive looks the NSA cryptologist sent their way. There was fear on his face along with a strange mixture of horror, dread and helplessness.
Not what you signed on for? Don wanted to snarl at him unsympathetically. Well, too bad. Normally he might have a bit more compassion or pity for the man, but not now. Not while he sat around and did nothing but play along with Keane as they worked to set up Charlie. That he could not forgive, just like he'd never been able to forgive his physics teacher in high school who'd allowed her fear of a student to prevent her from stepping in and stopping the kid from pushing Charlie around. His grades had suffered as he'd been so focused on being angry at her that he hadn't really been paying attention to what she'd actually been saying.
The breakfast tray consisted of a plate with dry toast, a bowl of what appeared to be instant oatmeal that someone hadn't gotten quite right and a glass of water. Don eyed the food suspiciously before turning his attention to Keane.
"What, no scrambled eggs or orange juice? I want my money back and will complain to the national hotel ratings system, you don't deserve the half star you got."
"I do regret not meeting you under other circumstances," Keane said with a smile. "I think I might well have enjoyed knowing you."
"I'd say it's mutual, but I'd be lying," Don stated, trying to decide whether or not he should risk eating the food.
Keane laughed before he tilted his head, studying his prisoner. "Don't be so sure, we have more in common than you think."
Don thought about replying to that before he chose to simply ignore the remark in favor of the toast. While it was true that the oatmeal could easily be drugged, they'd already proven they were more than willing to administer drugs to him in the traditional way and he'd prefer to ingest anything they wanted him to take instead of letting them near him again with a needle. Not only was it safer, he didn't want to risk them using a dirty needle just in case he managed to escape. Besides, if he wanted any chance of getting out of here, he needed to keep up his strength which meant food and there was no telling when they might decide to feed him again, especially considering he was essentially a dead man to them.
"What, no comment, Agent Eppes? No denial? Or perhaps you can see the similarities between us?"
"Like what?" Don asked, thinking he might get some more information on the man. "Me, FBI. You, former military, special forces if I'm not mistaken. Opposite sides of the law now."
The oatmeal didn't immediately taste of anything untoward, not that it was proof of anything.
"The last hardly matters, besides, you've taken liberties with the law on more than one occasion yourself when it suited your needs," Keane pointed out, suddenly shifting his attention to Banner. "You can go, I'm fine here."
"I'll go check in then," Banner said, holstering his sidearm.
"Let me know of any relevant chatter you hear."
"Will do."
"That was different," Don countered, watching Banner go.
"What, it's okay for agents to bend or break the law? I don't think so. You may have justified it to yourself that way, but the fact remains you're willing to cross that line under the right circumstances."
"Was willing, key word being was. Not anymore."
"You really believe that," Keane observed, thoughtfully. "So, you're saying if history was to repeat itself and one of your agents was taken once more, you wouldn't allow Edgerton to extract information from a reluctant suspect who knows it? You'd risk your agent's life this time around?"
The question was one that had plagued Don on many a sleepless night since that fateful day along with all of the regrets he'd had since. He definitely didn't want to go there again, once had nearly destroyed him, but could he not do it if it meant one of his agents might die as a result? He just didn't know.
"I thought not," Keane continued, taking the silence as confirmation. "It's a slippery slope, Eppes, and once you start down it... well you know."
"I'm not going to end up a vigilante."
"You caught a few people's eye with that little stunt with your agent. And not in a bad 'he needs to be stopped or brought in line' kind of way either."
"What are you talking about?" Don demanded sharply, the room doing a slow spin as he jerked his head up to look at Keane.
Damn. The oatmeal had been drugged after all.
"Oh, didn't you know? Turns out several organizations liked what they saw in your drive to bring that Hoyle woman to justice. The end justifies the means type. I think you disappointed quite a few of them when you seemed to fall back in line during your therapy."
The sneer at the end made it more than clear what Keane thought of him having seen Bradford, but Don found he didn't care. He knew a lot of people looked down on that sort of thing, he'd done so himself before, but he couldn't argue with the results. It had helped him, tremendously, when nothing else had, he would admit to that and, surprisingly, not just to himself.
No, what Don didn't like were the implications of what else Keane was saying. It could all be a lie, the drugs weren't messing with his mind that much just yet, but if it were true... Don wasn't sure he really wanted to contemplate that. He wasn't so naïve as to think that sort of behind the scenes illegal operations didn't exist, but the mere thought that the people involved had even looked at him for that type of thing bothered him deeply. Just when he thought he'd come to terms with what he'd done, what he'd been willing to do, it came back to haunt him yet again. Just like when Buck had escaped.
How could they possibly think he'd even be interested, much less consider that type of thing? Surely one mistake, okay a few mistakes, didn't tip him into that category of people; those who blatantly disregarded the law and the founding principles on which the legal system stood. Okay, so what if he'd stepped outside the straight and narrow a little? It's not like he hadn't made his dislike of those who always did it abundantly clear as well. He had that complaint in his file from the CIA on behalf of Agent Raymond whom he'd punched for revealing he'd strung Don and his team along to help set up such a program. Or, more recently, how he'd turned in a fellow FBI agent for playing fast and loose with the law to capture a thief.
The thoughts started to blur and fade in Don's mind as the drug swam through his system, sending him slowly into oblivion. The last thing he was aware of was his right hand being tied down and the weight of the tray being removed from his lap.
"You really are more like me than you want to admit," Keane's words chased him into the darkness.
/
Sunday, 16:34
Basement, Unknown Location
The shock of ice-cold water splashing across his face snapped Don into awareness as he sputtered for air.
"Ah, there you are, thought that might wake you."
Even with the sudden adrenaline dump to his system, it took an enormous amount of effort for Don to focus his mind enough to glare at the man who'd spoken.
Frazer, he realized as the voice clicked with the face in his sluggish mind. What was wrong with him? Oh, yeah, Keane, breakfast, oatmeal, drugs. Drugs to control him. Drugs to knock him out. Drugs which probably still would have him unconscious but for Frazer's impatience. Frazer... he'd just remembered why the man's sudden wake-up call might be a bad thing when he was slapped across the face, hard.
"Oh, no you don't, I've waited long enough, you're staying with me."
That alone was enough to make him wish the drugs weren't so strong, so he'd have his wits about him as it seemed like he'd need them. Or stronger, so Frazer wouldn't be able to force him awake.
"Go away, I'm sleeping," Don mumbled.
A roar of rage was followed by a fist to the gut that had Don doubling over as far as he could even as the chair wobbled backwards dangerously. Briefly he thought it was going to tip over and send him spilling to the concrete floor before it dropped forwards once more onto all four legs.
With an effort, Don forced his eyes open as far as they'd go and glared at the fugitive. The man glared back at him, his face twisted with rage, a cigarette held loosely in one hand. The expression on his face was enough to wake him a bit further as fear coiled in his gut. A quick glance around showed only the computer geek was about and he seemed to be doing his best to fade into the background, so no help from there. Briefly he wondered where Keane was before dismissing the thought. The man had promised to execute him as soon as he had what he wanted from Charlie, it was ridiculous to even think about relying on him for protection. Still, the man clearly wanted him alive for the time being, which was better than nothing, but he didn't seem to be around. So it looked like he was on his own for this one, which didn't bode well for him. He could only hope Frazer remembered, and cared enough, about the payoff not to kill him as there'd be nothing he could do to stop him.
The helplessness flashed through him once more, hurting him more than any of the physical pain was able to. If it were just him that would be one thing, he could deal with failing himself, but it wasn't just him. It was Charlie as well who was at risk here. Although his little brother had improved significantly since their mother's death, Don doubted any amount of improvement would be enough to prevent Charlie from slipping into his beloved P vs. NP if he thought he were responsible for his brother's death. Then, if that happened, Dad would be alone. So it wasn't just himself at stake here, but his whole family. He simply had to find a way out of this mess alive and he had to do it himself.
From Banner's short chat with Geek, it seemed like Charlie hadn't seen the photos yet, which meant he was still oblivious to what had transpired. On the one hand, Don was very thankful for that as he didn't want his brother to know and to worry about him. On the other hand, however, it meant he was on his own here, for the present anyway. He'd been planning to surprise Robin with an unexpected weekend out of town, but to that end he'd told her nothing, simply arranged everything with her assistant. So, as a result, Robin wasn't expecting him and neither was anyone else. Unless Charlie got too suspicious to continue working on whatever it was that Keane and this Blakely wanted, it could well be that no one would even realize anything was wrong until he failed to show up for work on Monday morning. Even then, it would take time before anyone fully understood what was going on and an investigation was started.
He was completely on his own for the time being, Don realized with a jolt of horror and fear. Helpless, alone and completely at the mercy of a man who hated his guts and wanted him to suffer long and hard before finally having the pleasure of killing him.
Chapter 8