Numb3rs: Speared

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 organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER THREE

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The ice cold water splashed onto his face made him splutter which led to coughing and pain but he was awake. Shaking the water out of his eyes he lifted his head and involuntarily flinched at the hand that was suddenly so close to his face.

"Speak." The man standing over him demanded.

Don moved his attention back to the hand and recognised the radio microphone being held in front of him. Stubbornly he kept his mouth shut. His resolve lasted all of a few seconds however as the man's spare hand moved towards the spear. He opened his mouth and the man's hand dropped back.

"This … is Eppes." His voice was barely recognisable, even to himself. He had no idea to whom he was speaking or even what he had been expected to say. Don tried to clear his parched throat in case more was needed but the Russian seemed to be satisfied, stepping back.

"You heard?" The Russian asked, speaking directly into the microphone.

"I heard." Colby's voice replied from the speaker on the radio unit. Don saw that the earpiece had been disconnected making the speaker live.

"Show yourself-"

Don desperately leant forward, raising his voice to interrupt the Russian before the transmit button was released. "Colby, no!"

The Russian's hand wrapped around the end of the spear and once again Don failed to remain silent as the shaft was twisted. His right hand had clamped back around the spear but he just didn't have the strength to prevent the Russian's actions. This time the microphone was held towards him picking up the sound of his agony. The Russian abruptly released the spear having obtained what he wanted. Don fell back gasping and only clung to consciousness through sheer determination. He couldn't allow himself to surrender to the darkness again, no matter how attractive.

"Leave him alone!" Colby demanded. Then the words Don didn't want to hear. "I'm coming out."

The Russian tossed the radio to the table and jerked his head at the man remaining with him. "Bring him in alive."

Don heard the order and was relieved, at least Colby wasn't going to be shot out of hand once he surrendered. That was not something Colby could have banked on. When this was all over, if they survived, he was going to have to explain to Colby the importance of following orders. His sudden anger born of concern was tempered with the knowledge that if their positions had been reversed he would have remained to help his partner, just as Colby had done.

All that was left now was to hope that one of the Coast Guard crewmen on a nearby boat had heard his wild shot and alerted the Seahawk. He'd taken the Coast Guard radio given to them by Lieutenant Dylan and now it was sitting uselessly on the table in front of him, leaving Colby with no way of contacting them to get assistance.

There was the sound of footsteps from over his head, moving forwards. Colby had been hiding on the cabin top. It was the safest place; few people remember to look up when searching for an intruder. The footsteps stopped and were followed by shouted instructions. Unable to move far Don could only wait as he heard a thump as if someone had jumped from the roof to the deck at the bow of the vessel. After that there were the sounds of a scuffle, some landed blows and grunts before silence. A short time later the door to the cabin slid back open and Don was able to turn his head far enough to see the other agent being bundled inside.

Colby's lip was split and he had a bruise already developing on his left cheekbone, he'd been roughed up in an obvious attempt to pacify him, but was relatively unscathed. Colby had taken worse before, much worse. He glanced over at Don, his eyes widening as he recognised the spear. Before he could say anything he was dragged forward and held securely as he was presented to the Russian. The Russian looked the younger man up and down and rattled off something in his native tongue. The men holding Colby responded by stripping off his equipment, including the vest until Colby stood unprotected. One of the men handed over Colby's weapon.

Don kept his face impassive as he frowned mentally. Colby, like him, carried a back-up weapon. The men's search had been as thorough as it had been rough, they could not have missed the second gun. That meant that Colby had removed it before allowing himself to be taken. Don's hopes that had sunk at Colby's quick surrender started to lift; the junior agent had a plan.

The Russian bounced Colby's gun on his palm before handing it to the man that Don now suspected was the second in command of their operation. He was never far from the man in charge.

The Russian snapped out some more orders and the men not occupied with holding Colby hastened to obey. Two went to the wheelhouse as the rest went outside. A moment later there were high pitched tones that Don recognised as oil pressure alarms followed seconds later by a rumbling from below them. The engines had been started, they were preparing to sail. A loud rattling from the bow that resonated through the cabin confirmed it as the anchor chain was being winched up.

"Good." The Russian finally said. He glanced at the speared agent before turning to the one being held in front of him. "I have asked him and he has not told me. I will ask you. What are you doing on my boat?"

Colby stared defiantly back at his interrogator. "We have a warrant."

Don felt a surge of satisfaction at that answer, Bradford had been right all those months ago. His team were a reflection on him. Colby's answer had been the same as his own and more importantly it had been delivered with the same attitude.

The Russian jerked his head. The man on Colby's left responded, suddenly pulling the agent's arm up behind him. He lifted until Colby's back arched and the agent was standing on his toes as the nerves in his shoulder hyper-extended. Colby grunted but otherwise didn't let on that he was in pain.

"It's on … the warrant." Don spoke up. His voice sounded as weak as he felt, he was feeling steadily worse as time went on.

The Russian glared at Colby a moment longer before coming back over to the table and picking up the document. Reading it over more thoroughly this time he saw the section that outlined the suspected offences which grounded the warrant and allowed for the search for evidence to support the crimes listed. Finally the Russian looked back up.

"Where did the information come from?" He demanded.

"We don't know." He found it hard to talk, his breathing shallow due to the pain in his chest. He coughed up some more blood that he carefully swallowed, not wanting a repeat of last time. He couldn't take much more abuse of his injury, the coughing was bad enough. Everything depended on his partner. He had to do what he could to protect Colby. At least one of them had to remain physically capable of action and that certainly wasn't him. It was also clear that one of them had to talk or else the other would be harmed. To that end, "We got that from the … the DEA."

"Why would the DEA involve the FBI?"

"They had … something else to deal with." He answered truthfully.

"Who else is here?"

"Just us."

The Russian's hand came back up, hovering just inches away from the end of the spear. "You lie."

"No!" Don denied desperately. He saw Colby start to strain against the men holding him. Once again he coughed up blood and swallowed it. He desperately needed some water but was not going to ask for any. "The Coast Guard … just brought us here … they have nothing to do with this."

A man appeared from the wheelhouse speaking rapidly. The Russian lowered his hand and went forwards, stopping at the doorway. He gave an order and a moment later the two agents could hear the marine radio.

"This is the United States Coast Guard cutter Seahawk to vessel Saracen. You will cut your engines and heave to. Prepare to be boarded." The message sounded like it had already been sent several times.

The Russian turned back and snapped out an order. Colby was wrestled sideways and shoved into the seat opposite his boss. One man remained with his weapon drawn to cover the two agents whilst the other raced outside. The Russian's lieutenant moved forwards and the two conversed rapidly for a moment as the radio message was repeated.

"Don?" Colby asked in concern. He saw that Don's head and shoulders were wet, along with the empty cup on the table. Water had obviously been thrown over him but that didn't explain the deathly pale skin and the sheen of sweat. He started to lean forward to examine Don's wound but was pushed back by the guard.

"I'm fine." Don rasped out. They both knew it was a lie but for now it would have to do.

"Bring one of them." The Russian finally ordered in English.

The other man came back and reached out to grab Don's left arm. The senior agent weakly fended off the man's hand with his right. Don then pressed his right hand to the table and pushed, trying to rise.

Colby also tried to stand but was forcefully shoved back down by the guard and a heavy hand remained on his shoulder. The man's weapon was raised and pointed directly between the agent's eyes in emphasis.

"Take me." Colby demanded as Don just made it to his feet.

"Colby-" Don protested.

Colby ignored him and pressed on. "He's too badly hurt."

"Tolya," the Russian called. "Bring the other one."

"Da, Kamenev."

Tolya pushed on Don's shoulder and the wounded man fell back onto the seat. The hand on Colby's shoulder was removed and he was waved to his feet with the gun. He moved to Don's side of the table and stopped to check on his boss and received a weak wave. Tolya drew his own weapon and took control of Colby, forcing him forward and away from Don. The other man remained, somewhat superfluously to guard the injured agent.

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Colby allowed himself to be propelled forwards. He stepped into the wheelhouse and stopped near the Russian leader, Kamenev and the radio. Tolya held position close behind him. Colby was only too aware of the gun aimed at his unprotected back.

"Coast Guard, this is Saracen." Kamenev said into the microphone. "You will listen to this man."

The radio microphone was held out to Colby. After a moment's hesitation he took it. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell them your situation. Tell them to back off. Tell them what will happen if they try to stop us." He did not need to explain the last any further.

"Seahawk, this is Agent Granger." He didn't like being used like this but if he could alert the Coast Guard to Don's condition he would play along.

"Go ahead Agent Granger." Lieutenant Dylan replied personally, her tone guarded. She would be able to guess where this was headed.

"Special Agent Eppes and I have been taken hostage. Agent Eppes is seriously injured and in need of urgent medical care." Colby explained then hesitated, he'd said all he'd wanted. Tolya's gun nudged the back of his head and he continued. "The men on this vessel are heavily armed. You are to back off and allow this vessel clear passage. If you don't we will be killed."

"Received and understood Agent Granger." Dylan replied. "Saracen you will not be permitted to sail whilst holding federal agents. Surrender the agents immediately."

"You did not understand the agent, Captain?" Kamenev responded after taking back the handset.

"I understood him." Dylan replied, her voice hard and determined. "Understand this Saracen, if they are harmed further I will fire upon you."

Colby recognised an impasse when he heard one. The Seahawk wouldn't let them leave with the two agents being held prisoner, the Saracen wanted to leave taking the agents with them. The anchor was up and the Saracen was slowly making way. Looking out the windows Colby couldn't see the Coast Guard cutter but it would not be far away. He found the radar display amongst the instruments and saw a strong blip that could only be the Seahawk. The cutter was only a fraction of a nautical mile behind them and holding position relative to them.

"You fire on us you risk the agents."

"They understand the risk."

"I have a gun on this one. If you continue to follow us you can pick his body up out of the sea." The Russian countered. Once again Kamenev held out the microphone.

Colby refused to take it. There was nothing more he could say that would affect the outcome of the standoff. The situation had been presented and now the two captains had to play it out. Unfortunately his opinion wasn't shared. He found himself lying on the deck after a blow to the back of his head from Tolya's gun. Hauled to his feet the microphone was again shoved at him, this time he took it.

"This is Granger. I'm sorry Lieutenant. They mean what they say." He took a breath in preparation. "So do I. Do what you have to." As he had expected before he'd uttered them, his last words earned him another blow. He staggered against a seat bolted to the floor and managed to keep his footing.

There was no immediate response from the radio but the next sweep of the radar beam showed the cutter falling behind. It was more noticeable on the following sweeps, the cutter dropping back as the Saracen began to accelerate. To his disappointment the Russians had won the point.

"Take him back."

Tolya grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into the main cabin. A little dizzy he wove his way back and resumed his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment as he rested a hand on the knots growing on the back of his head.

"Colb?"

Colby looked up at the hoarse, weak voice. Despite his own condition his boss was worried about him. "I'm okay, Don. They made the Seahawk back off."

"I heard." Don was just as disappointed as he was.

Despite the emotional blow both men knew from a tactical point of view that the Coast Guard had only backed off to give themselves time to work on a solution. The two agents just had to wait and therein was the problem.

They were left alone for the next few minutes giving Colby time to recover. The men were clearly still concerned at the threat posed by the Coast Guard, the majority of them remaining outside to keep watch. The rapidly diminishing light was only going to work in the Coast Guard's favour. But there wasn't much they could do to hide from the Saracen's radar however, at least not until some more equipment was brought into the area that could blind the luxury cruiser. That would take time, time that Colby thought Don didn't have. The senior agent was visibly fading, his consciousness level dropping. Colby moved his foot under the table in a semi-successful effort to keep Don awake.

Colby surveyed the items left on the table, there were no real weapons aside from Don's folding knife. There was however, the small Coast Guard radio and it was in easy reach. That was what he wanted the most. Tolya was back at the door to the wheelhouse conferring again with Kamenev leaving them alone as before with just the one guard. This time man was standing a yard or so away, slightly forward as he was distractedly listening to his bosses. More importantly his weapon was hanging loosely at his side and Tolya's was away. This was the best chance they'd had so far and they couldn't count on getting another.

The junior agent kicked his boss more forcefully on the ankle. Don's head jerked back up, frowning at his actions. Colby flicked his eyes towards the guard and mouthed 'be ready'.

Don instantly became more alert and nodded, shifting position carefully to move closer to the edge of the seat in preparation. He would have no idea what Colby had planned but he would go with the flow just as Colby expected.

Colby slowly reached out his hand and snagged the small radio, slipping it into his pocket under the table. He slid the last few inches to the edge of his own seat and with a last look at Tolya and Kamenev he launched himself at the guard. There was no time for finesse or to be anything less than brutal. What he planned could kill. Putting everything he had behind it Colby smashed his left fist into the side of the guard's head. The man dropped like he'd been poleaxed. Colby felt something give in his hand but he ignored it having expected to break a knuckle or two, the reason he'd used his left for the attack.

Bending he recovered the man's weapon and snapped off two shots towards the wheelhouse. A hit would have been a bonus but wasn't the aim of the exercise, the two men taking cover was. Using the moment thus gained Colby turned to Don and found his boss already on his feet and as ready to move as he could be, swaying slightly but determined. He noted that the cord attached to the end of the spear was wound around Don's left hand with plenty of slack so it wouldn't pull on the shaft. Colby had no choice but to ignore the blood that he could now see had flowed downwards under Don's vest staining his jeans as he stepped over to him, just as he also ignored the dark stain on the seat. Don had lost a lot of blood which explained the pale and clammy skin he'd noted earlier. Grabbing the senior agent's right arm he dragged him to the rear door.

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