Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs, but Mercer is my creation. 'cue Frankenstein music' It's alive!

Chapter Three

~*#*~

Stepping out of the elevator the next morning, Megan paused as she caught sight of Don in the war room and she took a sip of her coffee as she saw him pin a photo to the corkboard. After a moment, she shook her head and made her way to the bullpen.

"Looks like someone found a lead on our mystery girl." She said by way of greeting and David waved a hand, eyes focused on a file in front of him.

"Yeah," Colby said, from his desk. "He was in there when we came in, too." Nodding, Megan raised an eyebrow.

"You guys know anything about it?" Snorting softly, David shook his head and looked up, a wry smile on his face.

"We haven't gone in there yet." And something in his voice seemed to suggest that they had been waiting on her. There was that feeling of something being off again.

"Is everything alright?" She asked and the two men exchanged a look, David being the one who finally answered her question.

"I don't think anything is wrong, but he seemed really focused on what he was doing when I checked in on him earlier. He didn't say much, just told me to get everyone in there when you got here." Nodding, Megan shot a look toward the war room, where she could see Don studying a file.

"Shall we?" Turning back to the boys, she motioned for them to follow her and they made their way through the bullpen. "What's that file you were looking at, David?" She asked, avoiding bumping into another agent.

"I was just going through the files from last night's bust." He answered, with a slight smile and she nodded. As they had yet to interrogate the arrestees from the meth lab, she knew it was going to be a long morning and that would be after Don told them what he had found.

Pushing the glass door open, she caught sight of two mug shots pinned to the corkboard. One of Alex Reed, the other of a blond woman who looked suspiciously like Reed.

"If you ask me," Colby piped up from behind her, a smile in his voice. "She looks better as a red head." Nice attempt at levity, Megan thought as Don looked up from the file and his gaze shifted to the mug shots. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the table and set the file down.

"Not my biggest concern, Cole." He said, shooting the junior agent a look. "Guys, meet Cyd Mercer. ' Picking up the file, Megan noticed one little interesting detail.

"Looks like someone came back from the dead." She observed, the word 'deceased' jumping out at her in bright red ink and she could feel David reading from over her shoulder.

"Tell me about it." Don muttered, pacing away from the table and Megan looked up, noting his tense demeanor. Ooh, this was not good. "She was a fugitive 'bout seven years ago, supposedly died in a collision with an eighteen wheeler." And there was something just under the poorly concealed contempt…

"She was one of your collars." David said, putting it together just before she did. Really, the use of the word 'fugitive' should have tipped her off. David had told her and Colby about Don's past in Fugitive Recovery, mainly about his partner and the few things that Cooper had shared with him.

If Mercer had 'died' on Don's watch, it was no wonder he'd been distracted the other night.

"So, are we thinking she faked her death?" Colby asked and Don shook his head, as she set the file back down.

"No way." He stated and Megan raised an eyebrow at the absolute certainty in his voice. "She could have easily gone to ground if she wanted to disappear. Staging a fatal collision would be too extreme and risky for her." Interesting insight.

"You sound pretty sure of that." She said, studying him carefully and narrowing her eyes when he shrugged.

"I spent a year trying to run her down." He said, seriously. "Mercer is meticulous and doesn't take stupid risks." A short pause. "Other than jumping off of buildings." The last part was said under his breath and she had a feeling he didn't mean for them to hear it.

"Seriously?" David asked, disbelieving and Don looked up, mildly surprised. "What, did she think she was Spider Girl?" Megan and Colby both shot him a look, but Don grinned.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Grateful for that little bit of levity, she raised an eyebrow as he straightened up and started pacing the room. "Some of the things she did were right on the edge of crazy; one time she jumped off of a skyscraper in Seattle with nothing but a hundred yards of rope tied to a rooftop air conditioner unit."

Megan's jaw dropped and the boys were doing similar impersonations of fish as Don leaned against the edge of the door frame, his hands in his pockets.

"How in the hell could she survive a fall like that?" She asked when she recovered enough from the shock to speak and Don shrugged.

"I dunno. We couldn't see where she landed from the roof and there was no sign her when we got to the ground level." Funny how Mercer didn't seem so meticulous and rational after hearing about her swan dive.

"If she's capable of doing something so stupid…" Colby started and Don raised a hand to cut him off.

"I know what you're saying, but Mercer wouldn't trust her life to anyone else and she definitely isn't a team player." Picking up the file and opening it, Megan found herself really trying to understand the person it described.

Self-reliance was a characteristic of all mercenaries; confidence in their own abilities is what made a lot of them dangerous. But to the degree of excluding the advantages of working with a team, as the file seemed to indicate… it did explain a lot… and it raised some questions, as well.

"That's why she's so meticulous." She muttered, looking up as she put the pieces together. "She'd have to have every angle covered, think of every contingency. No way would she leave anything to chance." Funny how that was just a tiny piece of the puzzle. "But why show up now, under a different name?"

"I don't know," Don said, running a hand through his hair. "but it looks like she picked up back where she left off. What I can't figure is how she's involved with the meth lab." That earned him a few surprised looks and David was the one to take the bait, though Megan looked up from the file.

"I take it she's never gotten involved with drugs before." David hedged and Don nodded, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he studied the mug shots. Looking at the file again, Megan scanned the list of charges and frowned as she noticed something.

"None of the charges in either file were even remotely drug related." She said, internally fitting another piece into the puzzle. "Some mercenaries play by their own set of rules; they never go after kids or women, or they only use certain types of weapons."

"And Mercer stays away from drugs," Colby added, sarcastically, though Don looked thoughtful. "Except for this time." Except for this time, Megan considered. So what changed?

"She also doesn't like guns." Don put it, sitting down at a nearby table. "Never seen her use one and every time she got a hold of my weapon, she disarmed it."

"Like last night." David said, somewhat amused at what Don had inadvertently revealed. "Just how many times did she get a hold of your gun?"

"Exactly like last night." Don muttered, running a thumb across his lower lip as he considered David's question. "More times than I want to admit and enough to know to keep it away from her." Raising an eyebrow at the direction the conversation had taken, Megan couldn't help her small smile.

"So, what happened last night?" She asked, with a full blown smirk, not at all faltering when he glared at her.

"Last night, she got the drop on me." He shot back, irritable and she decided to back off.

"Alright, enough about Mercer and Don's weapon…" Okay, she really couldn't resist. "I guess the thing to do is find Mercer's connection to the meth lab."

"And find Mercer." Don said, shooting one last glare at Megan as he got up. "David, drop the file on Mercer off at Charlie's office. We'll start interrogating our suspects from the meth lab, see if we can shake anything loose."

"Charlie's helping out on this one?" Colby asked, holding the door open and Don nodded as he stepped out.

"He thinks he can figure out why Mercer is getting involved with drugs now." He explained and Megan shot him a curious look as she followed.

"And what do you think?" She asked, noting the doubtful tone of his voice and Don shrugged.

"I think it's a long shot, but I don't want to miss any bets." Pausing at the door, Megan watched as he left, no doubt to get their first interrogatee out of holding. Bringing up the rear, David followed her gaze and shook his head.

"He's taking this one kind of personally." He observed and Megan gave him a look.

"Wouldn't you?" She murmured and made her way back to her desk. Behind her, David and Colby exchanged a look.

"Good point." They said in unison and the two men went their separate ways; David to Charlie's office and Colby to his desk to get ready for the first interrogation.

Unfortunately, the majority of their six suspects were low on the totem pole and couldn't tell them anything about Mercer. In fact, the only remotely interesting facts about Mercer were found in her copy of the file.

Like the fact that she was born in Anchorage, Alaska in 1978. That one caught her by surprise, actually.

"She was twenty-two when she 'died'?!" The exclamation caught Don's attention and he looked over at her from his spot in the observation booth. David, who had gotten back from Cal Sci earlier, and Colby were inside with their last suspect, who was fidgety and wary of the two agents, making their job just a little harder.

"Yeah." He muttered, turning back to the window with his arms crossed and seemed to be focused on what was happening in the interrogation room. As if that ever worked.

"And she was first arrested when she was seventeen." Megan read from the file, catching Don turning his head toward her slightly and she decided not to call him on it. "She started really young, didn't she?" And that bothered her on a personal level, honestly.

The file didn't say if she had ran away from home or if she'd been abandoned. There were two parents and no siblings, and for all intent there was absolutely nothing to illuminate the path she'd taken to get here.

"It freaked me out, a little." Don admitted, quietly and Megan looked up from the file, surprised. "This kid could have done anything she wanted. She had a perfectly clean slate." With a soft laugh, he shook his head. "And she completely wasted it. And after a while, that started to piss me off. So yeah, I'm taking this a little personally."

Wincing slightly as she realized he'd heard her and David talking, Megan set the file down and stood up, coming to stand next to him.

"Understatement." She observed, quietly. "Sorry about that." With that bit of insight into the situation, she didn't bother asking the question that had been on her mind since last night, because now she knew the answer.

"Don't worry about it." And just like that, the tension dissipated, leaving the two agents to focus on what was happening in the interrogation room.

"Look, I don't know anything." Jerry Fletcher, twenty-four years old and a prime example of meth lab economics. A jumpy knee and the fingers tapping rapidly on the table testified to the young man's drug addiction.

"Really?" David asked, all intimidation. "The kind of hours you put in at that lab, I have a hard time believing that." A derisive snort from the other side of the room caught Jerry's attention, as Colby walked past David and Jerry's eyes followed him nervously.

"Honestly David, I'm not surprised. The guy's brain is probably fried by now. I doubt he'll be able to tell us anything useful." Circling around behind him, Colby leaned against the chair. "May as well toss him in jail."

"Man, Colby." David said, grimacing. "That could get rough. You know, going to jail will force him to quit cold turkey. It'll be hell." Jerry's gaze shot toward him and he swallowed, fear in his eyes. And with the right push…

"Maybe I can tell you something." He admitted, looking down and David put both his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. "If you can promise I won't go to jail." Shooting a look at Colby, David stood up and narrowed his eyes at the wilting figure in front of him.

"Depending on what you got, we'll see if we can get you into rehab and we'll talk about probation." Nodding, Jerry took a deep breath.

"A few weeks ago, word got around that some crazy feminist group was looking to do business with meth labs in the city."

"What kind of business?" Colby asked, leaning against the wall and Jerry focused on his shaking hands, avoiding his gaze.

"They were looking for chemicals. Acetone, sulfur, and peroxide, specifically."

A trickle of fear made its way down the back of her neck as Megan considered the possible uses for this specific trio of chemicals.

"Do you know anything about the group that was asking?" David demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Crazy feminists, like I said. Called themselves Ultdef or something." Jerry paused, seeming to be trying to suppress the shaking. "The girl who made the pick up last night said something about making a big bang."

Megan froze as her fear was confirmed, recognizing the threat for what it was and realizing that while they may have stopped last night's buy, there were still places that they could go to get the chemicals that they needed.

"The Bureau will probably have a file on them." Don muttered, thumb rubbing his chin absently. "There's just one more thing we need."

In the room, David put the photo of 'Reed' down on the table in front of Jerry.

"Do you know this woman?" The question was unnecessary, as his eyes automatically widened in recognition.

"That's Alex, the girl who was doing the asking." He said, trembling. "She also made the pickup, last night. She's crazy."

"Popular opinion." Megan murmured and Don snorted slightly.

"She's not doing much to change our minds." He said wryly, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, start going through Reed's file and see you can find an address; she'll probably be using a different alias."

Nodding, she followed him toward the door as he went on. "Have David and Colby go through the file on these 'crazy feminists' and see what they can dig up.

"You think there's something in Reed's file?" She asked as he stopped with one hand on the door.

"Might tell us something that Mercer's file won't." Nodding, she stepped through the door as he held it open and looked back.

"What are you going to do?" She asked and he shrugged.

"I'm gonna go find Charlie, see if he can do some kind of target analysis based on the Ultdef's file" Looking at his watch, Don took a deep breath. "I'll see you later." Megan watched him go, a worried frown on her face.

"Guess its lunch at my desk again." She lamented as she made her way back to the bullpen.

~*#*~

Our best bet is to let it play out.

Let it… this has the potential to turn very ugly.

Don't they all?

~*#*~

"Charlie?" The voice of his eldest pulled Alan out of the kitchen, where he was doing the dishes, because someone had been too distracted to offer any help. Honestly, the more Charlie "grew up", the less he did.

"He went back to Cal Sci. I only managed to get him here for lunch before he took off again and he stuck me with the dishes." Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he paused as he saw Don's tired smile. "You hungry? There's some spaghetti left."

Naturally, that got his attention, though he seemed as distracted as Charlie had earlier.

"I dunno… are there meatballs?" Smiling, Alan nodded. "Alright, I can take a minute." As he dished up a plate, Alan hoped he'd stay a little longer than a minute.

"Here you go." He said, setting it on the table and they both sat down. "You look tired." He observed, taking note of the slight dark circles under Don's eyes.

"Long night." Don muttered, taking a bit and closing his eyes appreciatively. "Even longer day." And it really said something about his emotional state, when he was willing to admit it.

"How's your side?" He asked after a moment and Don looked up, narrowing his eyes.

"Charlie told you?"

"Yeah." Alan said, meeting his eyes steadily. "Is there some reason you didn't?" Looking down, Don shrugged as he tapped his fork on the plate lightly.

"I just didn't want to spoil your night." Leaning back in his chair, Alan crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on Don.

"My son letting me know he'd gotten hurt wouldn't have spoiled my night." He said mildly, annoyed. "As a matter of fact, I would have rather heard it from you than from Charlie." Finding out these things out second hand had become a consistent irritation.

"It's just a bruise, Dad." Don said, studying his plate intently, though Alan caught the fond smile that crossed his face.

"And what about this fugitive? Mercer?" The worry that crept into his voice made Don look up, surprised. "Yeah, Charlie told me about her, too." And it wasn't too hard to catch the underlying concern when he'd talked to him earlier. Distracted or not.

"If you're worried about me going back to man hunting, don't." Don said and Alan raised an eyebrow, surprised and slightly relieved. "This case is going in a different direction and while I do plan on putting Mercer away, she isn't our biggest problem now."

"And what direction is that?" Alan asked and smirked as Don shrugged, knowing that he'd pushed far enough and feeling little better for it. "It sounds like you're taking this thing with Mercer a little personally." He noted, leaning forward again as he studied him. For his part, Don shifted his gaze to his plate and kept it there, seemingly intent as he took another bite.

"We put a lot of time into running her down." He said, finally and Alan nodded, knowing exactly how true that was. "It got to the point where I was completely focused on catching her. You've heard of tunnel vision, right?" The out-of-character admission caught him off guard and Alan could only nod, words evading him.

"When she 'died', I was completely rattled and I knew I had to get out of Fugitive Recovery." It took him a moment to see what Don was saying and it was a startling realization. "Finding out that she's still alive, now and back in the life… she could've easily left it behind. There was no one after her, no one looking."

"She would've gotten caught, eventually." Alan said and Don shrugged. "Would you have rather she'd gotten away?" Setting his fork down, Don shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"No, but it would have been nice if she'd had some inclination to change. To make something better of her life." Pausing slightly, his jaw clenched. "Her mistake." Yeah, Charlie wasn't kidding when he said Don was taking this personally.

"So now what?" Shrugging, he picked up the fork and took another bite.

"Now, we track her down and find out what the hell is going on." Oh boy, this was going to be a rough case.

"Well," Alan said and Don looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I hope you don't mind me saying I'm kind of glad Mercer was around, back then." He couldn't help but be grateful, knowing that she had helped set him toward a safer career, as safe as he could be in the FBI. Don snorted, though he seemed to understand what Alan was saying.

"That won't get her a free pass." He said lightly, finishing off his spaghetti and standing up.

"I wouldn't expect it to." Alan said, grinning and Don smiled a bit. "Are you coming over tonight?" He asked and Don shrugged.

"We'll have to see. It could take some time to catch Mercer and we may not have that long." Well, that sounded ominous, he thought as he stood up and grabbed the plate off the table. "I'll let you know."

"Alright, Donnie, we'll save a place at the table for you." Don nodded as he headed toward the door, but paused a moment, turning back to Alan.

"By the way, I did call Coop last night; to see if he could help out."

"And?" Alan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's working an undercover op. Black market pharmaceuticals."

"That's too bad." Alan said, not as relieved as he thought he'd be. He wasn't too fond of Agent Cooper, but it would have been nice if Don had someone else there who knew who they were dealing with.

"Tell me about it." Don muttered, turning to open the door. "I'll see you later." Nodding as he shut the door behind him, Alan couldn't help but feel uneasy.