The heavy vehicle practically stood on end as it screeched to a stop in front of Charlie's newly-acquired Craftsman home. Don left the door open as he raced inside. "Charlie!" he yelled, standing in the hallway. He began a hurried search of the house. No one upstairs. "Charlie! Dad!" He ran through the kitchen, scanning the living room on his way by. The garage, he thought desperately. It was the most likely place to find his brother in times of great stress.

Throwing the door open, one hand on his gun where it rode on his hip, Don searched the cluttered space for his younger brother. Chalkboards covered in Charlie's familiar scrawl occupied every available wall and an easel or two. The old couch Charlie had rescued from the solarium when their mother had decided to redecorate gave no clue as to where the young genius was, or what Charlie'd been going through before his panicked call.

Don scrubbed his hands through his hair, frustration mounting. "Where the hell are you, Charlie?" he yelled. No answer. He sped back into the house and headed for the back door. If he's not out here... Don left the thought unfinished. He didn't know what he would do to his brother for scaring him like that and then disappearing, but he'd bet his next paycheck it would turn out ugly.

On the back step was a clutter of Alan's gardening tools. That's odd, Don thought, frowning. His father was religious about putting the implements away ever since their unfortunate run-in with a sudden rainstorm a few years ago. It had taken weeks of repetitive oiling to get them back to normal. Scanning the area quickly, Don was about to turn and re-enter the house when something out of the corner of his eye gave him pause.

The back gate was open.

Don stepped cautiously onto the well-manicured lawn, his hand automatically going to his gun. He drew it out and held it in both hands, pointed downward. The gate led into an alley and was only opened when someone was taking garbage to the bin out back. Standing with his back against the fence, Don peered through the opening. What he saw nearly made his heart stop beating.

A few feet in front of him, there were two men dragging his brother toward a van idling at the end of the alley. Don felt a tingling of panic, which he quickly forced aside. He stepped into the alley and raised his gun, taking aim at the two men. "FBI! Freeze!"

The startled men glanced back toward him. At the same time, Don heard a gunshot and flinched as a bullet struck the gate next to his head. He dropped into a crouch and pulled back into the yard, peering down the alley from behind the protection of the fence. He saw a third man in the van aiming a gun in his direction. He ducked back again as another gunshot rang out.

Frantic thoughts were racing through his head. He couldn't very well fire at the men as long as Charlie was in the line of fire, but he damn sure wasn't going to let them take his brother. Making a quick decision, he drew a deep breath and steeled his nerves. He quickly darted out of the yard and toward the men holding his brother, crouching low and pressing himself against the fence lining the side of the alley.

He heard gunshots and was amazed that he didn't feel any of them slam into him. Stay small, he kept reminding himself as he sprinted after his brother.

TBC