Disclaimer

I do not own Numb3rs, the characters or the concept yada yada.

OK, so, here's the thing.

Normally, you get a pisspoor attempt at a funny disclaimer from me. HOWEVER, this time, it's different.

As you may know, CBS in their wisdom have decided to cut the current season six run of Numb3rs from 22 episodes to 16. This does not bode well for the future of Numb3rs, so the fans have mobilised, prompted by a call from Rob Morrow to help save the show. If you want to voice your opinion of this dumbassed decision, please write a letter, explaining how much you love Numb3rs, how much it has influenced your thinking etc and asking the network to reconsider the decision to:

Nina Tassler

President, CBS Entertainment

4024 Radford Ave., Room 3118

Studio City, CA 91604

USA

There is also an online petition at petitionsonline dot com (Save Numb3rs from Oblivion) as well as a host of other sites at MySpace/Twitter/Facebook/LJ all supporting the 'Save Numb3rs' campaign. Please add your voice/signature to the campaign and help us save the show. Thank you.

Right.

Back to the disclaimer: Usual warning for violence/bad language/unintelligible Cockney rhyming slang applies.


Don quietly closed the door of the new deputy director's office and leaned against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face. Shit. The last thing he had wanted to hear was that he was losing Colby for some goddamn secret squirrel mission with the army. The deputy director had assured him that it would only be for a few days, and that Colby would return to the team as soon as his deployment was over. But Don had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him things were never that clear cut…

The bullpen was the usual mass of organised chaos as he walked through the lift doors and back towards his desk. As he rounded the corner, his eyes locked with Colby's. The big man looked utterly forlorn and shaken to the core. Don nodded towards interview room one and Colby lethargically pushed himself off the corner of the desk he had been perching on, his movements slow, subdued and full of trepidation. He avoided eye contact with anyone else in the office and followed his boss into the tranquillity of the interview room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Col…"

"There's nothing I can do, Don." Colby's voice was quiet, full of resignation and despair.

"I know." Don put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, bud." His grip tightened on the man's shoulder. He felt like he was saying goodbye to his friend for the last time. He knew that this was the last thing that either of them had wanted or planned for. Colby had finally got himself back on an even keel after months of stress and worry. He had seen his old friend return over the last few months – the old, relaxed, laid back but utterly efficient agent he had come to love like a brother and trust as a friend. Now, the army had smashed its way back into Colby Granger's life without so much as a by your leave and thrown him back into a pit of espionage, danger and possibly even death. Don was furious. Not at Colby, but at those who seemed to think that they could play randomly with the man's life like some kind of puppet. It brought it home to him how tenuous their so-called organised lives actually were – how things could change in a heartbeat…He held up his other hand to stop Colby from replying. "Look, I know you can't talk about it, Col. And seriously? The army's timing sucks out loud. The last thing I need right now is to be another man down. Especially one of my best men." There was a silence between them for what seemed like hours, but Don finally spoke again, his words soft and full of concern. "When do you leave?"

"As soon as the courier gets here with my orders." Colby's words were leaden. Don could hear the worry in his voice. He knew that the young man hadn't expected this; he looked like his legs were about to give out from under him at any second…

"Does Diane know?"

"I've only just found out myself."

"How the hell could this happen, Col?"

Colby looked at his boss and shook his head. "You never really leave the army, Don. Unless you're medically discharged or get a dishonourable, they can recall you at any time for at least ten years. Especially if you're ex Special Forces." He shrugged and gave his boss a sad smile. "What, you actually think I went fishing on my vacation last year?"

"You're kidding me!"

"Nope." There was that sad little smile again. "Look. It's only for a few days. And from what the Colonel told me on the phone, it has to do directly with this attack on the base. So there's a good chance I could bring some useful intel back with me." The man's voice was flat. It was still sinking in, that much was clear.

Don looked past Colby and into the office. He nodded at a figure outside. "Looks like your courier's here, bud." Colby turned to see a man in army uniform standing awkwardly by his desk. Nikki was in conversation with him and pointed towards interview room one. Colby couldn't take his eyes off the buff coloured envelope the courier held in his hands…

"Shit. They don't waste any damn time, do they?" He pushed himself away from the desk as the courier walked up to the interview room. Before the man had a chance to knock, Colby pulled the door open.

"Captain Colby John Granger?"

"Yes."

"Can you confirm your identity, sir?"

"Bravo Zulu two zero three three one seven one."

"Thank you sir." The man handed the envelope over and turned without a word, walking away quickly.

"What, no salute?" Don grinned wryly at Colby who merely shook his head, stared at the envelope and muttered a reply.

"I'm not in uniform." He hooked his thumb under the corner of the envelope and ripped open the buff paper. A folded sheath of paper fell out, along with a plane ticket. Don could see the military insignia on the top of the paper and the words 'TOP SECRET' emblazoned in red across the cream stationary. Colby sighed and glanced up. "Sorry, Don, I can't tell you what's in…"

Don held a hand up and smiled. "Don't worry bud. I understand." He held his hand out and Colby grasped it firmly. Don smiled once more and shook Colby's hand. "Just…just take care of yourself, okay? And get your ass back here in one piece, you understand?"

Colby didn't return the smile. He merely nodded in response and waited until Don had left the room to unfold the orders he had been dreading. His guts twisted into a knot and his fingers tightened on the paper, crumpling the edges. His destination…

Kosovo…

333333333

Colby walked out of the FBI's offices and into the brilliant sunlight of a glorious LA afternoon. Sitting on the bench with a coffee clutched in one hand and a cigarette in the other was the one person he could talk to. Diane glanced up – the unspoken bond between them telling her of his approach. She watched him as he walked towards her and felt her own heart sink. His posture was hunched, the shoulders dropped and the normally confident walk reduced to a slow shuffle. He was devastated; she could see it in his eyes. Diane discarded the coffee and stood up, waiting for the inevitable…

"Hey babes." He looked at her sadly, fighting back the emotions that threatened to boil to the surface.

"They've told me." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, not caring about the stares of strangers that passed them by. It was their private moment – nobody else existed in her world right now apart from him… She felt his strong arms wind around her and he clung to her wordlessly, just wanting to be with her for a few brief seconds. The world around them dissolved into nothingness as he buried his face into her shoulder, not wanting to speak, not wanting to say that one word that had so much meaning for both of them…

Finally, Colby sighed and stood back, his arms still wound tight around her. "They're sending me to Kosovo."

"I know."

"You know?"

Diane smiled gently. "What, you thought you were going out there on your own? Not on my watch, sweetheart. Danny Smith's your contact. You're working with my lads, babes."

Colby smiled for the first time that day. "Well, that's the first bit of good news I've had. You know anything else about the mission?"

Diane reached inside her jacket and pulled out a small flashdrive. "Latest intel's on there. We've got a team in situ, they'll liase with you as soon as you touch down in Greece."

"Fuck me, you know more about this than I do!" Colby let out a short laugh that melted away as he saw the serious look in Diane's eyes.

"It's a joint oppo, sweetheart. I've been ordered to work with your team here while you're away. We've had a crap load of chatter on a couple of websites we've been monitoring. Micky's flying in from DC tonight." She cupped a hand on his cheek and kissed him gently. "Be careful. And come back to me."

"I promise." Colby kissed her back, drifting back into that empty place again for a few seconds where the only other person who existed in the entire world was the woman he loved…

Diane broke the kiss and squeezed his hand briefly before turning away and walking towards the FBI offices. She didn't turn back. She didn't dare. She didn't want the last thing that Colby saw to be the tears that rimmed her green eyes…

Colby watched her walk away. He knew she was deeply distressed and it tore at him inside. But there was absolutely nothing either of them could do…

3333333

The plane's tyres screeched as the jet landed, the jolt making the cabin of the aircraft judder violently. Colby glanced out of the window, watching the scenery slow to a stop as the plane taxied to a standstill. Out of the window he could see a black sedan waiting on the tarmac. The three men waiting patiently by the car were all in military uniform. It was pretty obvious that Colby wasn't going to have to go through the unnecessary hassle of airport checks – the car had been sent for him…

The east coast air was chilly compared to the balmy warmth of Los Angeles, but Colby found it strangely refreshing after five years of smog and heat. He'd got used to LA, but sometimes it was nice to get away from the paper-thin veneer of respectability and glamour that covered the murky underbelly of a city that had long ago seen the last of the Angels fly away…

"Captain Granger?" One of the three men stepped forward as Colby disembarked. He stretched out a hand and Colby shook his hand, still wary of this unknown man in uniform. He glanced at the insignia on his shoulder – the man was a Ranger. Colby relaxed, let go of the man's hand and nodded. "I'm Sergeant Steven Monroe. We have a car waiting for you, sir."

Colby grinned. "Ah. That would be that big black shiny thing over there with the wheels, right?"

Monroe looked momentarily confused and Colby helped him out by nodding at the car. "Oh, right! Yes, sorry sir. I forgot you Delta Force boys tend to have a bit of a snarky sense of humour that us mere workaday soldiers often don't get."

Colby looked surprised at the man who merely raised an eyebrow, no hint of irony on his face. Colby frowned. "Okay then…"

"If you wouldn't mind, sir, the Colonel is waiting for you." The humourless solider waved a hand towards the sedan and Colby walked to the rear of the car, climbing in wordlessly and settling back on the leather seat. Another soldier had taken his bag and put it into the trunk of the sedan and now climbed behind the wheel, slamming the door shut and starting the engine without a word. Monroe sat in the back seat with Colby and handed him a file.

"I'm afraid that we're working with the British on this one, sir. God knows why we're teaming up with the limeys, but apparently they've got a crew on the ground already."

Colby glanced sharply at the man. "Those limeys happen to be the best goddamn soldiers in the world, sergeant. And I'll thank you to remember that in future." Colby's voice was sharp. The man had overstepped his boundaries and Colby's tone of voice reminded him of the fact that a, he was speaking with a superior officer and b, he didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Monroe looked surprised and instinctively backed away from his fellow passenger. Granger's reputation was a fearsome one and he realised that his glib manner had antagonised the big man.

"I apologise sir."

"Just tell me you ain't coming with me, is all."

"No sir."

"Thank fuck for that. Danny Smith would tear you to pieces in about thirty seconds!" Colby opened the file and started reading. Monroe frowned and shuffled in his seat.

"I've been ordered to make sure you are delivered straight to the Colonel's…"

Colby glanced up from the file and stared hard at Monroe. The man's mouth snapped shut as he locked eyes with Granger. The big man exuded a dangerous vibe and Monroe was smart enough to realise that some of that dangerous energy was currently focusing uncomfortably on him… "I don't need to be delivered anywhere, Sergeant Monroe. Are we clear on that? Just drop me off at the front door. I'm sure I'll be able to find my way from there, okay? I'm quite familiar with the layout of Fort Bragg and the whereabouts of the Colonel's office. Now, if you don't mind…" Colby held up the file and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes sir." Monroe settled back and the rest of the car journey to Fort Brag passed in silence…

33333333

"I'm sorry about this Colby, I really am." Colonel Thomas waved a hand at a chair and Colby nodded in thanks and sat down. Colonel Mark Thomas was a powerfully built man whose immaculate uniform strained across his massive shoulders. Greying hair peppered his temples with a silvery sheen and his clean-shaven, rugged face showed a lifetime's service in the lines that crinkled the corners of his mouth and a single scar that ran from the corner of his right eye to his earlobe. He sat down opposite Colby and leaned back in his chair, studying the younger man.

Colby Granger had been an exceptional soldier and an even better intelligence officer. It had been a shame to lose him to first the CIA and then the FBI, but Mark Thomas had a huge amount of respect for the man and was pleased to have him back. "Been a while, Colby."

"Yes sir."

"Sir? Good grief Colby, don't tell me you've actually acquired a measure of respect for rank during your time with the Feds?" Mark raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly.

"Only for those who command it, sir." Colby flashed a grin at his CO and relaxed back into the chair. He liked the Colonel. He was a soldier's soldier – every inch a commanding officer. He'd come through the army the hard way – a veteran of the first Gulf War and commanding officer of the so-called '103rd Logistics' – a pseudonym for Delta Force. He'd personally picked Colby to be one of his top intelligence people after a short stint in the CID had shown the Colonel just how good Granger was at intelligence gathering and undercover work. Granger had continued to serve 'officially' with CID, but he'd seen far more active service behind enemy lines than most soldiers would see in a lifetime…

Colonel Thomas laughed. "Thank god for that, Granger. I thought you'd gone soft in your old age!"

"Nope. Sir."

"Nice work with Aranamov, by the way. Took us years to find the bastard but you did well."

"Which brings us back to Kosovo, sir."

Mark's demeanour instantly changed. He heard the business-like tone of Colby's voice. He also knew damn well that the young man was hiding a tumult of emotions about going back to a place that held such dreadful memories for him…"Yes." He sighed and sat forward. "Jesus, Col, I really do wish it was anywhere else but there, buddy, I really do. I know your feelings about the place."

"With respect sir, my feelings about going back to that shit-hole don't enter into it. We have a job to do. Which I'd very much like to get done as quickly as possible and get the fuck back to my life in LA. Sir."

"Appreciated. You've read the file?"

"Yes. And the flash-drive Diane gave me."

"Good to have the Brits on board with this one."

"They know the place better than anyone else. And there's nobody I'd trust more to have at my back on this one than them, sir."

"Agreed. Okay, so here's what we know. A terrorist group known as the Hand of God has been very busy on the old social networking sites recently. CTC have been keeping tabs on them. Captain Armstrong's people have been monitoring their chatter through MI6 in London and in LA. Indicators are that their people have been training at a terrorist training camp 80 clicks north of Pristina on the border with Serbia. The British have been on the ground monitoring the place for the last few weeks and have been sending us regular reports back." Thomas stood up and moved across the room. "Coffee?"

"Thank you sir."

Thomas poured out a couple of cups of coffee as he continued to talk. "About two weeks ago, they sent back a report that indicated a group of American nationals had been spending time at the camp. They were identified as a fundamental group known as the Free America Federation."

"I thought those assholes were white supremacists!"

"So did we. Until we found out that they're actually a front for a Taliban funded Serbian Muslim group who fled to the US after the Bosnian war. They integrated themselves like goddamn parasites and laid low until now." He handed Colby the coffee and sat on the edge of the desk. "We think they're behind the attack on the armoury at Fort Irwin. Captain Armstrong is liasing with your people in LA to track the bastards down that end. But we don't think that's the end of the operation. There's still a group of US nationals at the camp right now. And we would dearly like to know who they are and what the hell they're planning."

"And that's where I come in, right?"

"You know the country, you speak the language, Colby. Sorry buddy, but you were a natural choice." Thomas took a mouthful of coffee and watched Colby's reaction carefully. The man didn't give anything away… "This isn't a seek and destroy mission, Col, it's a silent incursion. We want you and your team to go in, find out as much as you can and get out again without giving them any kinda head's up that we're on to them."

"Zero casualties?"

"Zero casualties. We're flying you in to Greece and then overland through Albania and into Kosovo. It's the long way round, but it'll raise the least suspicion if anyone's watching out. Plus I doubt very much if the Kosovo authorities would be too pleased to hear you're back in the neighbourhood, Colby." He took another swig of coffee. "Your specialist area, bud. Deep undercover. Minimum exposure, maximum impact. Intel gathering only. Don't be tempted to get…creative."

Colby sat in silence and studied his coffee intently, frowning deeply as he watched the brown liquid swirl in the cup. Thomas watched the big man like a hawk. He knew how difficult this mission was, both logistically and emotionally for the ex-soldier. Kosovo had chewed Colby up and spat him out, almost in pieces. He didn't want to send the man into a situation he couldn't cope with…

"Colby, I have to ask you this. Are you fit for this mission?"

Colby looked up sharply. "What do you mean, sir?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. What you went through over there…"

"Is in the past, sir."

"But still…"

"Do you have doubts that I can cope?"

"No, but…"

"There's no but about it, sir. We have a job to do." Colby's voice was hard, cold and emotionless. Colonel Thomas knew only too well the duel personality that the man had. The one – laid back, easy going and quick to see the humour in almost anything. The other – a cold, hard, calculating soldier capable of murderous rage and furious violence. Over the years, Granger had successfully merged the two halves of his personality to create a deadly, efficient and frighteningly intelligent covert operative whose 'sixth sense' was almost uncanny. He knew damn well that this mission had Colby's name all over it. And with Colby in charge, they actually had a glimmer of hope of being able to pull it off…

"Good. That's all I needed to hear. You fly out tomorrow at oh five hundred hours. I've arranged for a bed for the night here for you. I need you to sign a couple of bits of paperwork but the rest of the evening's your own. Get some rest. You're going to need it. Monroe will brief you on the details."

"I'd prefer someone other than Monroe, sir."

"Any reason why?"

"Um, the man's an idiot?" Colby shrugged.

"Wow. Way to go on first impressions, Col!" Thomas laughed. "I suppose I can have him draw up a briefing document if you prefer? You can read it on the flight."

"That would be preferable, sir."

"I'll see to it." Colonel Thomas stood up and Colby got to his feet, saluting smartly.

"Sir."

"Okay, now you're just freaking me out, Col!" Colonel Thomas laughed, but returned the salute, despite the fact that Colby was out of uniform. It was a mark of respect from one soldier to another… He held out his hand and Colby shook it. "Good luck, Captain."

"Thank you sir…"

33333333

The barrack room was quiet. Familiar smells took Colby back to his first night in the army, all those years ago. The feelings of pride, worry, and concern about whether he would be good enough to become a Ranger, the excitement – they all flooded back. He'd read the briefing files from cover to cover, committing the details to memory and slotting them into place like a mental jigsaw puzzle. This wasn't the time to adopt his usual 'just a humble G-man' act. From hereon in, he had to be his old self again. The real Colby Granger. The one Don had only seen flashes of. The Colby Granger capable of carrying out a covert mission behind enemy lines…

He settled back onto the bed and lay staring up at the darkness, letting his mind wander, wondering what his friends were doing right now, wondering if he would ever see them again or if Kosovo would grab hold of him and – this time – not let go. He wondered if he'd ever see Diane again, see her smile, those green eyes, that sharp wit and moments of tenderness that he loved so much.

He wondered if things would ever be the same again…

TBC…