Disclaimer

I, the undersigned (and underpaid) do hereby solemnly (okay, not very solemnly but I mean it, really I do…) swear (a lot, especially when the computer crashes) that the evidence I shall give…hang on…sorry, my bad, wrong card…right where had I got to? Oh yeah, I solemnly swear that I own nothing, nada and absolutely bugger all to do with Numb3rs or any of the regular characters. Alex Carter/Diane Armstrong and the story, however, are mine and shall remain so until you prize them from my cold, dead fingers.

So there…

EDIT: At the risk of the administrators kicking me up the arse, I've taken the advice of a reviewer and downgraded the rating on this story. However, this story does contain profanities (that's swearing to you lot) and some scenes of fairly graphic violence. If this kind of thing is likely to offend you, go read some Harry Potter. If not, well, don't blame me if you start cussing like a sailor, okay?

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20,000,000 records

1 singer

8 security guards

1 bullet…

The camera flashes exploded like multiple lightning strikes, heralding the arrival of the black limo at the door of LA's most exclusive new club. Taking the blinding flashes as their cue the crowd surged forward, anxious even in the celebrity-peppered heart of La La Land to catch a glimpse of the diminutive but instantly recognisable popstar of the decade to emerge from the black cocoon of the car. The predatory form of the limo rolled to a stop and the doors opened, bodyguards stepping out smoothly and silently, expertly scanning the location for any potential threat to their precious cargo. The club doorstaff nodded to the suited guards and prepared to usher the party into the sanctuary of the club. One bodyguard opened the rear passenger door, blocking any possible shot from the front of the vehicle with his own, heavily muscled body. The white, curly wire that wound from his ear identified him as part of the CCP team for Destiny Bowyer – icon, superstar and teenage prodigy of agent to the stars, Nathan Peterson.

The first figure to emerge from the car was a woman – tall, muscular and the ubiquitous white wire in her ear an identifying marker of her profession. Long red hair ran down her back in a tight plait like a second spine. Expert eyes, vivid green and hinting at a violent and dangerous persona underneath the cool professional exterior, scanned the crowd. She glanced at the bodyguard who gave her the slightest nod. She responded without moving a muscle, her eyes expressing a wordless communication between the two CPP experts. She motioned with a flick of her finger into the car – the "all clear" signal.

As Destiny Bowyer finally emerged, the sight of her perfect smile and carefully tousled golden blonde hair sent the crowd into a screaming, baying frenzy. Two of the bodyguards climbed from the interior of the SUV that had pulled up behind the limo and positioned themselves either side of the starlet's car. Two more moved quietly around to the opposite side, forming a block around the petite blonde woman and her sphinx-like protectors. The last two members of the eight-man team were drivers, trained in all forms of "escape and evade" tactical driving techniques. It was their job to get Destiny and her security detail away from any hostile situation at a split second's notice.

The entire team waited on the command of the tall, red haired woman. They all knew their jobs – she had hand-picked them when she had been given the unenviable job as head of security two month's earlier. Destiny Bowyer had a reputation for hiring and firing, inspired by her Svengali-type manager. On his whispered instructions she had fired her entire team and employed Alex Carter and her band of ex-soldiers as a crack CPP team that would protect her from the outside world. All of the team knew and respected Alex and would follow any order she gave without a moment's hesitation. Her awesome and terrifying reputation preceded her…

Destiny Bowyer was blissfully unaware of the complex, military style operation that was in play. She turned her perfect smile onto full volume, basking in the glow of the flashbulbs that captured every ounce of her star quality in photographs that would be wired to every entertainment website, magazine and fansite within the hour. The flashbulbs exploded in renewed frenzy, the strobe effect giving the scene a strange, disjointed effect. The pounding bass-note of the music emanating from the club's sound system seemed in sync with the flashes as the bodyguards prepared to usher the star into the safety of the neon-bright interior.

Alex glanced around to her colleagues and nodded. She bent forward and murmured into Destiny's alabaster-pale ear. "We need to move, Miss Bowyer." Her soft London accent carried a note of authority that was entirely lost on the blonde girl. Destiny turned to her personal bodyguard, the brilliant smile locked into position, a mask for the fans and the photographers. She hissed a response through gritted teeth.

"My fans wanna see me, Alex, okay? I ain't gonna let them down, capiche?" Still she smiled, but her eyes flickered into a barely noticeable glower for a second. "You may be a good bodyguard, honey, with all your ex-special forces shit friends, but your pr skills suck out loud. You do the guarding. I'll do the smiling, okay? We go in when I'm fucking ready to, got that, soldier-girl?" Throughout the hissed, vitriolic rebuttal, her Hollywood smile never faltered.

Alex Carter's expression remained impassive but her heavily muscled companion had overheard every word of the artfully delivered telling off and knew that his oppo was bristling inwardly. He knew that being every inch the professional, Alex would take the rebuttal without giving into the temptation to snap the blonde's scrawny neck with one hand. But he also knew that Alex would be vividly imagining Destiny Bowyer's grinning face superimposed on the heavy punchbag that would be getting the mother of all poundings later on. He dropped his gaze, not wanting either Destiny or Alex to see the wry smile on his lips.

Alex flickered a cold, humourless smile at her ward. "Your call, Miss Bowyer." Her companion noticed the balled fist at her side. 'Hold it together, c'mon girl, hold it together…' he willed her to resist the temptation to launch a snap punch at the starlet's head. Gary Parks knew how explosive Alex's temper could be and he shifted his position by a couple of steps, also picking up on Alex's unease at the vulnerable position the star was in. His bulky body, crammed into a suit that strained across his massive shoulders, loomed behind the petit frame of Destiny. He caught Alex's eye and gave her a wink, reassuring her that he had the starlet's back covered. Alex gave her companion a fleeting, genuine smile. Destiny was completely unaware of the subtle shift in position of her other personal bodyguard, but was determined to continue lambasting Alex. "Damn right it's my call, you stuck up English bitch! And just remember who pays your wages, you…"

A sharp crack interrupted Destiny in mid-sentence. A woman in the crowd let out a piercing scream and in an instant all hell broke loose. Alex immediately pulled open the door of the limo and instantly forgetting the humiliating diatribe Destiny had unleashed upon her, threw her physically and without ceremony into the back of the car. At the same instant the two bodyguards who had been on the other side of the limo wrenched the passenger door open and dived into the vehicle. Destiny was pushed down onto the floor, the bodyguards ignoring her squeals of fright. One bodyguard covered her exposed back with his own body and wrapped two protective arms around her head, smothering any further screams and protecting her completely from any stray bullets.

Alex slammed the door closed, crouching low throughout. Her A1 sidearm was already in her other hand, the safety catch off. "GO GO GO!" She shouted the command and the limo wheelspinned away from the club, its sluing path followed by the black SUV only inches from its fender.

Once Destiny Bowyer had been safely removed from the situation, Alex spun around. Photographers and fans were scattering, keeping low to avoid any further gunfire. The club doormen had bolted into the safety of the club's entrance and two of her companions had dragged a prone figure away from the exposed entrance and to the cover of a low wall. Alex bolted to the wall and stopped dead. Around her the pandemonium, screams and chaos of the fleeing crowd melted into a silent, slow-motion crawl, fading into the background. Her eyes locked onto Gary.

"Oh Jesus, no…"

She dropped down onto her knees beside her friend, the two other bodyguards backing off slightly, allowing her room to work. The bloodstain was spreading like a creeping cancer across his white shirt. She ripped open the cotton shirt sending button-bullets spraying into the crowd like laundryday shrapnel. The exit wound in the centre of Gary's chest exposed tissue and filaments of muscle hanging like tattered rags from the black-red crater. Alex tore off her jacket and pressed it in a desperate and futile attempt to stem the bleeding from the gaping wound. With her other hand she cradled Gary's limp neck gently but firmly. His eyes glazed and his breathing was ragged and heavily laboured. Alex glared angrily at her friend. "Gary? Gary, you stay with me, you hear me? You hear me Gary?" Gary's eyes flickered and started to droop closed. Alex's grip tightened on his neck and she shook his head in desperation. "Oh no you don't, son! Gary! Open your eyes, c'mon, look at me, Gary…Gary, open your goddamn eyes! GARY! OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES, SOLDIER! That's AN ORDER!" His eyes flickered open again, the agony of the devastating wound written clear on his face. "You stay with me, okay? You keep looking at me and you keep breathing! It doesn't end like this, Gary. You understand me?" Alex's voice cracked with emotion and she fought back the stinging tears that threatened to tumble down her cheeks. "You stay with me, sweetheart, okay? I'll take care of you…"

She knew it was useless.

Slowly – agonisingly slowly - Alex watched as the life-light faded slowly from Gary's soft, hazel eyes. His breath rattled in his chest for the last time. "Gary…" Alex whispered his name as he faded from her. She felt the weight of his head drop back onto lifeless neck muscles that could no longer support him. Slowly and gently she lowered his head onto the floor and placed her hand over his eyes, closing them for the last time. She sat back on her heels, still staring at the body of her friend, unaware of the blood that stained her pristine suit and white blouse. She looked at her colleagues with a piercing, green-eyed stare that chilled their souls.

"Whoever did this, I want them found."

The two men nodded. "Yes ma'am…"

She looked down again at her dead partner and without lifting her gaze from his lifeless form, spoke again. "Call the lads in. Micky, wipe out all traces of our ID's. We do this off-grid." She looked up. "For the regiment."

Micky Cox and Phil Mountbatten knew exactly what that meant…

Within seconds, the last three members of Destiny Bowyer's CPP security detail had vanished into the LA night and off the grid…

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Colby Granger leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long, long week. The caseload for the Violent Crimes Unit had doubled in the last few months. He wondered if it was just a case of renewed paranoia on the part of the general public, who had a habit of calling in every suspicious looking package, person or situation that their media-fuelled minds saw as a potential threat. The last call he had fended off had been a bizarre call from a woman who suspected her neighbour's dog of being a suicide bomber. When he asked her why she thought this, her answer had stopped even the good-natured Colby in his tracks. "Because he's wearing one of those doggy jackets!" she had exclaimed. "In this weather? Gotta be at least eighty five degrees out there. What kinda person puts a doggy jacket on their dog in eighty five degrees?"

"I…um…I really don't know, ma'am." Colby had struggled to keep himself from bursting out into a full-on belly laugh. David had raised an eyebrow at his partner, a broad smile splitting his face. Colby had the call on speaker.

"Exactly!" the woman had yelped. "So? Waddya gonna do 'bout it, young man?"

Colby had been sorely tempted to suggest to the woman that she contact the dog pound, but took a deep breath and replied civilly. "I can assure you ma'am, we have no dogs on our most wanted list. But I'll speak to someone in LAPD and we'll get it checked out for you, okay?" Before the woman had been able to respond, he killed the call and turned to his partner. "So. You wanna call the K-9 unit or shall I? I'm sure they've got a couple of German Shepherds they can send in under-cover. Ya know. Sniff things out."

"Dude! That's just…nasty!" David laughed.

"Oh, c'mon, man! That's the tenth crank-call I've had this week! Seriously, is it a full moon or something?"

"There's evidence to suggest that the lunar cycle actually does influence human behaviour, although whether it results in an increase in crank calls to the FBI, I'm not too sure…ya know, that could be an interesting statistical study." Charlie Eppes grinned at the two agents and swung his laptop satchel from his shoulder, dumping it unceremoniously but carefully onto Colby's desk.

"Hey Charlie." Colby grinned at the man. "If you want, I got a pile of reports you can use as data…"

"Actually? Ya know, I think I'll pass. I just dropped by to give Don the results of the threat algorithms he asked me to do for the potential release of prisoners from Guantanamo. Now that our new president is shutting the place down, I guess you guys are on high alert, right?"

"Surprisingly, no." David shook his head. "We got more important things to worry about."

"Like?"

"How does canine suicide bombers grab you?" Colby still couldn't stop himself from grinning as he said it.

"Well, our navy did use dolphins…"

"Urban myth, my friend. Didn't work. The bastards kept defecting for a bucket of pilchards." Colby shrugged. "I had a buddy who was a Navy Seal. And don't you dare make any cracks about seals and dolphins, Sinclair!"

David held his hands up in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it. He'd probably drown me in my own shower if I did…"

Charlie felt at ease in the company of the two men. He perched on the corner of a table and laughed quietly. "So, is Don around?"

Colby pointed towards the ceiling. "Deputy Director's office. Got called up there about an hour ago for some reason. Prob'ly best not to interrupt him, bud."

Charlie sighed, opened the satchel and pulled out a buff file. "Okay, could you give him this? I gotta get back to CalSi in…" He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. "Crap! Twenty minutes ago!" Leaping off the desk, he grabbed the satchel and sprinted from the office. Colby watched him run out of the door with a wry smile.

"Remind me to buy the white rabbit there a pocket watch, will ya?"

"He'd only give you some mathematical reason as to why time is relative or something," quipped David. Colby nodded and laughed.

The shrill tone of his deskphone caught Colby by surprise and he picked up the receiver. Glancing at the display, he saw it was an internal call. "Granger."

"Colby? It's Don. Can you come up to Deputy Director White's office please? Now?"

"On my way." Colby replaced the handset and stared thoughtfully at the phone.

"You okay buddy?"

"I dunno. Don's called me up to White's office." He looked at his partner, a worried frown on his face. "That's never good…" He stood up and subconsciously smoothed his casual shirt down with his hands. "Wish I'd worn my suit into work today." David looked at his partner. Casual shirt, tee-shirt and faded jeans. Colby always took any opportunity to take a 'dress-down Friday' memo seriously…

"Want me to get my hankie out and spit-wipe that smudge off your cheek?" David grinned mischievously at his friend.

Granger frowned, his green eyes boring into his friend and a finger stabbing the air in front of him. "You do and I'll kill you where you stand." Colby returned the grin, but David could see the concern behind his eyes…

TBC…..