FIC: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 22/?
Title: In a Mirror, Darkly: Chapter 22
Author: Valerie Vancollie (valeriev84 [at] hotmail.com)
Characters: Don, Charlie, Alan, David, Colby, Nikki, (surprise)
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, Protest, 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 V: Don: Basement
Chapter 22:
Thursday, 17:17
Basement, Unknown Location
Don carefully manipulated the glass shard out from under his wrist and started cutting the rope again. If he craned his neck sideways, he could just make out the bit of the rope he was working on. The trick would be to stop cutting when there was just enough of it left to keep the rope in position and not arouse suspicion, but not so much that he wouldn't be able to rip it apart with one good jerk of his arm.
There were so many things that could go wrong with this crazy plan that Don didn't even want to really think about it, especially since so many of them were out of his control, but think about them he did. His tactical training forced him to go over everything that could happen as he worked, watching Lawson make the call to Keane. First and foremost was the fact that if the two men came down right away, he wouldn't be ready. He was banking on the fact that Keane would use the opportunity to feed him as well as let him use the restroom. He could only assume that Keane would be reintroducing the drugged oatmeal now that he was considered a threat once more. This could be a mixed blessing for him, though, working both for and against him. The time it would take to prepare the oatmeal would allow him to get to the point where he was as ready as possible, but it could also mean things would go differently from the way he wanted them to. Keane had set up a routine when it came to handling him and he was counting on that routine being followed.
Normally, whoever was taking care of the ropes snapped the handcuff into place around his left wrist, cut the rope, pulled his arm across to the right, snapped the cuff into place around his right wrist and cut the rope free. Generally this was followed by cutting his ankles free from the chair legs. The only time this pattern hadn't been followed had been on Tuesday when Banner had come down alone to feed him before Keane had joined them to allow him to use the restroom. In that case, his right wrist had been released first so that he could eat. If that happened again today, then his escape attempt would be doomed before it even began and there was nothing he could do about it. He assumed it wouldn't be repeated as there should be oatmeal again today and every time he'd been fed oatmeal, Keane had waited until he was back in his chair before allowing him to eat, probably to avoid the drugs taking him out before he'd returned to his chair under his own steam.
So he should probably be allowed up first today.
Hopefully.
Don hissed as the glass cut deeper into his fingers than before, the emotions churning up inside of him. Frazer, knife, amber drug. Frazer, knife, amber drug. The mantra worked and he was soon at the point where he feared that to continue would cause him to cut through the rope completely. While it was tempting to do so and then try and cut himself free entirely, he knew he didn't have the time for that. Nor did he know Lawson well enough to prevent him from alerting Keane as to what was going on. With the threat to his sister and the general level of compliance he'd seen from the boy so far, he had little doubt that Lawson would do anything other than warn Keane. The boy simply wasn't trained for this type of situation and was probably taking Keane's word as to how things would turn out. Not that Charlie wasn't probably doing exactly the same thing with Banner, especially if his suspicions were right about his brother not having informed his team about what was going on.
No, he simply couldn't count on Lawson at this point. He'd have to do this on his own, something Don wasn't exactly averse to as it meant not leaving his fate in anyone else's hands. Well, not any more than he could help it. Carefully shifting the glass in his hand so it was hidden from view but still firmly within his grasp, he waited impatiently for Keane and Frazer to arrive.
Luckily he didn't have to wait for more than a minute or two before the door to the basement opened and Keane stepped in, following closely by Frazer. Just like the last time, the mere sight of the fugitive was enough to tense his whole body and the adrenalin hit his system instantly. Frazer, ever attentive to him, laughed at the response, clearly delighted and impatient to continue his fun. The promise in his eyes was enough to cause Don's gut to drop and he clenched the good fingers of his left hand around the chair's arm.
Focus. Focus!
Frazer, knife, amber drug. Frazer, knife, amber drug. Frazer, knife, amber drug.
"I see I rate oatmeal again," Don forced the words out. "Mmm, drugs."
"Indeed, you do," Keane replied, putting the tray on the floor near the chair.
Score one for me, Don thought with relief as Keane pulled out his Beretta and aimed it at him.
"Unless, of course, you prefer the syringe and needle?"
"No, no, the oatmeal's fine."
Well, so far so good. Then Frazer drew his knife, made the blade jump into view with a soft snick and terror flooded Don's mind. From the pain which his body screamed at him, he was sure he'd flinched back from the weapon. Surprisingly, the pain helped as it allowed him to focus on the present, even if that meant seeing the knife coming towards his left wrist. Relief warred within him with the terror, glad he'd at the very least get a chance to try and escape. It would have been better if Frazer would undo his legs first, but that would be making things too easy for him.
The slicing of the blade into the skin just above yesterday's cut right after the handcuff was locked around his wrist, nearly undid all of Don's efforts to remain coherent. His body and emotions determined to wrest control away from his mind to try and shield him from as much pain as possible by pulling away or shutting it out. Never mind that what he wanted to do now could mean that he'd never have to experience the bite of Frazer's blade again. Or the full length of it as it slid home into his body...
The thought was enough to allow Don to regain some of his faculties just as the rope around his left wrist gave way. Shoving the terror aside through sheer force of will, he glanced quickly at Keane to assess his position and level of alertness. Unfortunately the latter seemed completely locked on them, though he could tell the other man wasn't really expecting anything from him based on his relatively relaxed stance. If he was correct about the man's background and level of training, he wouldn't get more than a few precious seconds before Keane reacted, so he'd have to make it be enough. If not... he didn't even want to contemplate the alternative.
So as to give the least amount of warning possible, Don jerked both of his arms simultaneously, breaking the rope and freeing his left arm from Frazer's grip at the same time. Once he'd done that, he swung his left arm back towards the fugitive, letting the second handcuff dangling from his wrist catch the other man in the temple even as he brought his right hand with the glass shard around to stab at Frazer's knife hand. Since the man had swapped the knife to his non-dominant hand in order to manipulate his victim's handcuff, Don stabbed at his left hand, letting the momentum of his movement send him crashing into the fugitive.
Frazer cried out in surprise and pain from the dual assault as they tumbled to the concrete floor in a jumble of limbs with the chair still tied to Don's legs. He twisted around desperately to swipe the glass at the rope around his right ankle while he struck Frazer another blow across the temple with the cuffs, not giving the fugitive the chance to come to his senses and fight back.
The loud retort of the Beretta signaled that Keane had gotten over his shock and joined the fight. Luckily the bullet missed, but Don felt the impact of it with the chair jolt through him as his back was peppered with wood fragments. He tried to keep Frazer between himself and Keane, frantically hoping the man wouldn't dare risk his remaining scapegoat as then the whole plan would unravel around him and he'd be left with no one to blame the situation on. The glass slipped from his blood slick hand and he cursed, yanking his right leg and managing to snap the remaining rope free. Good, but that still left him with one limb attached to the heavy chair and nothing to cut it with.
"Give it up, Eppes!" Keane ordered, furious. "You've got nowhere to go."
Don cursed loudly as he realized that Keane was right. He was too far away from the desk to make a dash for it, even if he were in perfect health and didn't have a chair tied to his leg. Yet there was absolutely no way that he was going to let Keane restore the status quo, that simply wasn't going to happen, not after the brief hope he'd felt that he could break free and escape. If Keane thought he'd meekly allow him to tie him up again so that Frazer could do whatever he wished to him, the man was sorely mistaken.
Unfortunately for him, Don had ended up facing Frazer's front when they'd fallen instead of his back, which was where he'd seen the fugitive keep his revolver. He didn't think he'd be able to reach around the fugitive's waist and grab the gun without Keane realizing what he was trying to do. Even as he heard Keane approach, Don suddenly remembered the knife that had caused him so much pain and terror. He couldn't believe that he'd forgotten about it. Looking about frantically as Frazer started muttering incoherently, Don spotted it lying partially underneath the other man.
Without thinking about the chances of success, Don grabbed the hilt of the knife and surged upwards, taking only a split-second to aim before throwing the knife at Keane. The split-second was enough for Keane to react and he pulled the trigger just before the knife caught him in the chest, sending him staggering backwards before he fell to the floor. Don tried to twist away, but cried out as he felt the bullet graze his right bicep, spinning him around. He fell heavily back to the floor, more agony tearing through him as the sudden impact jarred his body, his ribs complaining the loudest.
Briefly Don just lay there, wanting to do nothing more than simply close his eyes and let the darkness that swam at the edge of his vision carry him off. The twin moans he could hear, however, told him that he wasn't out of the woods just yet, not by a long shot. The knife, while painful, probably wouldn't keep Keane down unless he'd gotten really lucky, something he highly doubted given everything else that had already happened to him this week.
First, he had to get this chair off of him. Don placed his hands on the floor, intending to push himself up, only to hiss in pain as he sliced his left palm on something. He jerked his hand away, quickly, far too quickly, causing the broken bones to make their presence known. The pain nearly overwhelmed him, but he managed to remain conscious and looked down to see the glass he'd lost earlier lying next to him. Grabbing it, he quickly cut himself free from the chair and got to his feet. Seeing Keane moving about, reaching for his Beretta which he'd dropped when the knife had hit him, Don did the only thing he could think of and grabbed the chair, hurling it at the other man.
It made a satisfying crack as it hit Keane, knocking the man's head backwards to bounce off the concrete floor. Before Don could even think about anything else, a noise behind him alerted him to the fact that he'd lost track of Frazer just before something hard crashed into the back of his skull, sending him down once more to sprawl across the floor. He cried out in agony, rolling and curling into a protective ball instinctively. When the expected blows never came, he uncurled to ease the pain in his chest and looked up to find the fugitive standing over him, an enraged and crazed expression on his face and the revolver in his hand.
Don stared down the barrel of the gun at the bullet he could see inside it in resignation. So, this was it, despite all of his efforts, all of his successes in the past few minutes, he still couldn't escape his fate, the one Blakely and Keane had intended for him all along. The one Frazer had signed on for.
Even as he watched, Don saw some sanity return to Frazer's eyes and the aim of the gun shifted slightly so that it was now pointed at his left shoulder instead of right between his eyes. He resisted the urge to close his eyes as he realized that for this man, sanity- or at least control over his rage and impulses- meant more torture instead of a swift execution. Frazer clearly planned on dragging this out even further despite, or perhaps because of, everything that had happened in the past few minutes.
"You just cost me a couple of million," Frazer growled, the light in his eyes clearly indicating just how unstable the man had become.
Don didn't even consider explaining to him what he'd told Banner, knowing it was futile and just a waste of precious breath.
"What, nothing left to say, Eppes?"
"Bite... me," Don tossed out, hoping to tip the man's temper once more.
If he was going to die, he wanted it to be quick and not a long, drawn out affair for Frazer to savor. He was not going to be the bastard's entertainment. Not again and he didn't want to give him the opportunity to start thinking clearly. To start thinking about the knife and the amber drug.
As expected, rage flooded Frazer's face and the gun's aim shifted back towards his head once more. Don kept his eyes open long enough to see the finger start to tighten on the trigger before he closed them, not wanting to see the bullet coming at him. Instead he pictured his girlfriend and family, silently sending them an apology.
Two shots fired in rapid succession echoed through the basement.
Chapter 23