Author's note: See first chapter for notes and disclaimers

00-01-11-10-00

Don was nursing the worsening ache in his head. The original headache had just started to fade away, and he'd stayed resting against the wall after Charlie had walked away, hoping it would ease further. Then their abductor had come back. To say he'd been upset that Charlie was missing from his spot against the wall would be an understatement.

"Where is he?" The yell had reawakened the headache, and Don's refusal to answer the question had prompted the man to backhand him. Thankfully not with Don's own gun, but even so, the blow had hurt. So now he had another headache to deal with, as well as the lingering heat in his cheek which promised that the blow was going to leave a bruise.

"I asked you a question! Where is he?"

"Haven't a clue. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

Nonchalant was easy for Don now, with Charlie out of the line of fire. Hopefully on the way to bringing back help. Don slid his right hand down behind his right leg and closed his fingers around the metal strip he'd appropriated from Charlie. It was a weapon of sorts, which was comforting. Although he didn't really have any opportunity to fight back at the moment, so he'd just have to buy time. Time would let Charlie get further away, find help or a telephone, and bring his team back to find him. All he had to do was stay alive and buy more time.

The man waved the gun in front of Don, concentration clearly suffering in the face of the unexpected situation.

"All you had to do was testify that you were wrong. That Aaron Hamilton didn't do what you said he had. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

The man was pacing now, four steps in each direction, just beyond the reach of Don's feet. Not that there was any point in making a move now. Charlie needed at least an hour, preferably more.

"I told you I wouldn't help you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?" Don's echo of the man's own words seemed to make the man even angrier.

"Think you're clever, don't you?" The gun came to rest pointing at the centre of Don's chest. "Things will work out just as well for me if you're dead."

"Not really. Charlie will make sure that they catch you."

"He never saw me. There's nothing he can tell anyone."

"It doesn't matter. They'll find you and Charlie's testimony will put you away. Killing me will only make things worse for you."

"I think that with you dead, everything will be better. There's nothing to link me to you."

"There has to be something linking you to Aaron Hamilton, or you wouldn't be here." Don sighed and shook his head. "Whatever it is, my team will find it. Is it really worth all this?"

"Yes!" The force of that one word took Don aback, and piqued his curiosity. Indulging his interest would waste more time.

"So tell me, then, what makes Aaron Hamilton so important to you? Why are you risking everything for him?"

For a moment, Don thought he wouldn't get an answer, but then the man stopped pacing and leaned back against the opposite wall of the corridor. He let the gun rest against his leg, where Don kept a close eye on it. When he spoke again, the man's voice was quiet.

"The professor's your brother, isn't he?" Don nodded. Information about Charlie was easy enough to find, and as the man already knew that much, there was no point denying it.

"Wouldn't you do anything for him? Believe in him, fight for him," and the gun was raised to point at Don again, "die for him?"

Don met the cold blue eyes calmly, even though his stomach was knotted in fear.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He's my brother."

"Exactly."

The man nodded and Don ran the details of Aaron Hamilton's file through his mind. He knew that he wasn't going to recall every detail, but he was positive that Aaron Hamilton was an only child. Yet this man was suggesting that he shared some sort of bond with Aaron Hamilton, that they were brothers of some sort.

"Aaron Hamilton's an only child."

"Shows how much you lot know." Derision laced the words. "Do you need everything spelled out for you?"

Don figured he may as well keep the man talking, so he nodded.

"Aaron and I, we're brothers. Well, half-brothers. Our mom died about eighteen months ago."

Despite his situation, Don knew exactly how the young man felt. Empathy was just below the surface of his anger, trying to find a way out.

"I'm sorry. I know how hard that is."

"I guess you do, at that." The man considered Don carefully, then went on. "After that, I had no-one. I don't know my father, he left so long ago I don't even remember him; Aaron is all I have left."

"Do you really think he'd want you to go to prison for him?"

"I'm not going to prison. Neither is he. He's not guilty."

"We have evidence."

"He told me he didn't do it."

"And you believed him?" Don couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.

"He wouldn't lie to me."

"Why not? He's facing life in prison."

"Why not? He's my brother, that's why not."

With those words, Don realised that they'd reached an impasse. If Charlie couldn't bring help in time, it was an impasse that could only end in Don's death.

00-01-11-10-00

Charlie was sitting in the chair at Don's desk, fingers idly tracing patterns on his thigh.

"Guys, what's taking so long?"

Megan, David and Colby were strapping on their Kevlar vests, fitting earpieces and mikes, and checking their weapons. Charlie couldn't believe how long it all seemed to take, even though he knew objectively that it had only been twenty minutes since he'd stepped out of the stairwell door. But he kept remembering that sound he'd heard as he left the basement, the sound of that man hitting his brother. Statistically speaking, when someone moved past their personal tipping point and started using physical violence as a solution, there was almost no chance that they'd stop at one blow. How much more had Don had to endure after Charlie left him behind?

Guilt wasn't logical. He knew that. Just as he knew that love wasn't logical. Don had acted out of love and necessity, giving Charlie a chance to get away, and he loved his brother for the sacrifice. But Don had also come up with the basics of a workable plan, and Charlie admired him even more for that. His brother could keep his head when everything was against him, and still think clearly. Their dad had been so right when he'd said that Don was good at his job. That was something Charlie intended to tell Don himself, just as soon as he could. Which brought him back to waiting for Don's team to take action.

Charlie slowly spun the chair around, pulling his left leg up to absently massage the lingering ache. Megan had tied her hair back in a messy ponytail and was settling her earpiece a little more firmly. David checked his voicemail after receiving an alert of a waiting message, then shook his head.

"Would you believe our guy actually came to work as normal today?"

"I thought the boss said he was ill?" Colby was curious.

"Yeah, he did. Then Williams showed up here and told the shift supervisor he was feeling better. He's even been joining the others for coffee breaks." David's disgust was clear. "How cold-blooded can one person be?"

"So that's where he kept disappearing to." Charlie sounded amazed at Williams' behaviour.

Megan just shook her head. Sure, it took all types to make the world, but sometimes she wondered about some people. Then she took one last look at the blueprint Colby held and gave her final orders.

"David, you come with me. Colby, you watch our backs until we get there. We'll all go in from the door Williams has been using, then split up. David and I will confront him. Colby, you head round the other way and see if you can sneak up on him from behind."

Charlie's attention wandered momentarily at hearing the man's name. He'd seen the photographs on the board and recognised the eyes, but it all still felt a little surreal, disconnected from his reality. Hard to take in that they'd been taken by a man younger than both of them, one who looked so harmless. Charlie kneaded the side of his head gently, trying to coax the headache into fading completely, then caught what Megan was saying.

"Charlie. You stay here, okay? Call your dad, tell him you're safe."

"No. Megan, I can't do that." Panic filled Charlie. He couldn't call his dad, not while Don was still being held in the basement. What if something went wrong?

"Charlie, trust me on this. Call him, okay?"

Megan was persistent, and David and Colby were nodding agreement. But Charlie wasn't giving in without a minor compromise at the very least.

"Okay, I'll call. But from the lobby, the minute you bring Don up."

"No, Charlie. You're safer here." Colby was right, Charlie knew, but he couldn't stay safe alone.

"I don't care. That's my deal. You let me come as far as the lobby and I'll stay right next to the security guard. I'll call Dad as soon as you bring Don up. Make me stay here …"

Megan was wavering, eager to get to the basement and not keen to match wits with Charlie. So Charlie played his final card.

"I need to be there, Megan. Please. Just … I need to see him as soon as possible."

He turned on the little boy charm that he knew women always responded to, coupled with pleading eyes, and watched Megan surrender.

"Okay, Charlie. But you stay behind the security desk until I personally tell you that you can move."

"Deal."

Charlie followed the team into the elevator. On the short trip down to the lobby, he confirmed again that the only weapon he'd seen was Don's gun, and that Don was handcuffed to the wall. That he'd only ever seen the one man, no partners. As he slipped in behind the security desk, Charlie suddenly remembered the impromptu block he'd created at the basement door.

"Megan." When she turned, a question in her eyes, he rushed the words out. "I blocked the basement access door on B3 with a metal pole of sorts. It might make a noise."

Megan nodded, and Charlie ducked his head sheepishly. "When you bring Don back, could you bring it too?"

"You want to keep it as a souvenir?"

Charlie couldn't help the laugh, although it was bordering on mild hysteria. "No, not actually. I'd just really like my shoelaces back."

Megan looked down at Charlie's feet, smiled and shook her head. Then started down the stairwell, David and Colby right behind her.

00-01-11-10-00

The three agents reached the third basement stairwell door in five minutes, taking care to make no noise, and check that the other doors they passed hid no unpleasant surprises.

Colby gingerly picked up Charlie's makeshift door lock and laid it down on the floor, making a mental note to come back and retrieve the laces for Charlie. Then he eased the door open and checked for their target.

"Must still be in the boiler room with Don." He kept the words quiet, keen not to alert Williams to their presence.

Megan nodded as she and David headed towards the main door. Colby followed a step behind, watching for any signs of life in the quiet corridors. Reaching the door, Megan gently eased it open. David had called Control while Colby had hunted up the blueprints of the floor, and Control had overridden the electronic lock. So there was no sound as the door swung open.

Remembering what Charlie had said about his route, Megan indicated that she would go to her left. Colby nodded towards her right, and murmured just above a whisper.

"Give me five minutes to get around."

Megan set off, David close behind her, and held position at the only corner on the route. From there, she could clearly hear Don's voice, although it wasn't loud enough to make out the words. Then she heard another voice, this time loud enough to hear the desperate anger in the words.

"He's my brother, that's why not."

She traded a quick glance with David, and noted his nod of agreement. They'd definitely found the right person, and David had been dead on the money when he'd found what looked like a family link between the two men.

Three quick bursts of static in her earpiece told her Colby had reached position on the other side of the area where Don was being held. Megan straightened and eased herself around the corner, David at her shoulder. Two steps was all it took. Don was leaning against the wall, chained to the pipe, just as Charlie had described. Megan could clearly see the injury to his left shoulder, and Don's stillness told her he was doing his best to minimise the pain. The slowly darkening bruise on the right side of his face hadn't been in the injuries Charlie mentioned, so it must have happened in the last half hour or so. One more charge to lay against Timothy Williams. It would be an impressive list for someone so young.

Williams had his back to her, pointing the gun at Don, and she stepped out behind him.

"Timothy Williams, FBI. You're under arrest. Put the gun down."

If she'd hoped logic would help her cause, she was disappointed. Williams' head shot round to look at her, then he took one step closer to Don and pointed the gun at Don's chest again.

"I don't think so."

"There's no way out. Killing a federal agent won't help you."

"Timothy," Don's voice broke in, "is this what your mother would have wanted?"

"You don't know anything about my mother." Timothy's attention was focused on Don, but he was trying to keep an eye on Megan and David as well. Megan nodded slightly to Don, just a small and innocuous motion, and saw him get her message. There was more backup nearby.

"Maybe not." Don took another deep breath, and Megan could see what the calm, conversational tone cost him. "But I do know what my mother would have thought. And mothers are mothers, aren't they?"

Timothy stood just beyond Don's feet, most of his attention fixed on Don's words. Just as he turned his head to check on Megan and David's positions, Don made his move. His right hand swung up from behind his leg, bringing with it the metal strip he'd taken from Charlie. The strip came up in a short, sharp arc, the tapered end impacting on Timothy's knee. The blow wasn't all that hard, but it clearly surprised him, and as he shifted his weight to retain his balance, the muzzle of the gun shifted away from Don.

Megan saw Colby bolt forward. The young agent came round the other corner like a linebacker, with a full tackle directly to Williams' shoulder. The young man lost his grip on the gun, which skittered away across the floor, stopped by David's foot. Colby rolled Williams over on to his front, grabbing both hands as he knelt next to the prisoner. Megan kept her aim true until Colby had fastened his handcuffs. Then she lowered her gun and smiled.

"Colby, why don't you do the honours."

"My pleasure."

With that, Colby hauled Williams to his feet by his handcuffed wrists and marched him away. His voice floated back, faintly amused. "Don't forget to check the stairwell."

Megan watched as Don dropped the metal strip, his right hand immediately moving to hold his left shoulder. The curse was loud and inventive and Megan grinned at the thought of what Alan would say if he heard it. David had already picked up Don's gun, ejected the chambered round and put the safety on.

"Don." Megan waited until he looked at her. "Was he alone? Charlie said he didn't see anyone else."

"Charlie's right. Although he did keep going away and coming back. But he was always alone here." Don's voice was strained, and he shifted slightly. He turned to glare at the cuff around his wrist. "Tell me you brought the keys."

David produced a small silver key and quickly unlocked Don's wrist, then helped Don straighten up and lean back against the solid support of the wall.

"Just hold still, okay?"

David turned and retrieved the cuff around the pipe, pocketing the handcuffs just as he had Don's gun.

"Would you believe," David still sounded like he couldn't quite take it in, echoing how Megan felt as well, "that every time that guy left you here, it was to take a coffee break?"

As one of Williams' victims, and as David's boss, Don had the right to know and comment on all the details. His silence about this one detail said it all.

David turned back towards Megan, and a faint sound alerted him to the fact that Don had pushed himself to his feet. The senior agent was standing near the wall, right hand holding his left arm against his body, but just a touch unsteady on his feet. David stepped forward to lay a hand on Don's good arm.

"Okay, now. Slow and easy. And we'll take the elevator, not the stairs."

Don nodded a grateful agreement and the trio started off. As they made their way along the corridor, Don had to ask.

"Where are we? How did you guys get here so fast?"

"We're in the basement of the FBI building." Megan went for bland, and laughed at the shock on Don's face.

"You're kidding me."

"Don't I wish." Megan shook her head. "I think we need to take another look at building security."

As they waited for the elevator, Megan suddenly shot off to the left and into the stairwell. Don raised an eyebrow when she returned with three metal strips, tied together, and waved them at David.

"What's this?"

"Charlie wanted it." Megan loved the look of confusion on Don's face, which cleared when she showed him the middle of the makeshift pole. "He needs his shoelaces back."

Don couldn't help but chuckle.

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