"Williams, Wilson, Wilshire, Willingham," Colby rattled off. "And that's just last names. First names? Wilson, William, Will-"

"I get the picture," David interrupted his coworker. "So maybe 'Will' isn't the best lead we ever had, but we should be able to do something with it."

"Oh to have our resident math genius back," the other agent sighed.

"Come on, man. We can do this ourselves. Pull a list of all of Gardenia's known and suspected associates and check for anyone with 'Will' in their name."

"Sure," Colby sighed. "It's just a lot less work when Charlie's around. He'd whip up some filter or something and we'd have our answer in seconds."

"Not getting lazy are you?" David teased.

"Whatever," Colby rolled his eyes as he started gathering a list of names. "When are Don and Megan getting back?"

"We're back," Megan replied as she and Don entered the bullpen. "We were making sure our van got bundled off to evidence retrieval safe and sound."

"So, 'Will'?" Don asked with a sigh. "That's a hot lead."

"I'm checking a list of our crime boss's known associates for anyone with that in part of their name."

"Good idea, Granger," Megan told him.

When Colby didn't correct her, David cleared his throat. "Yeah, he's just full of good ideas."

"I am," Colby smiled at his friend.

"Full of something," David mumbled as he turned back to filling out his report about the shooting.

The foursome settled down at their desks as they worked through the remainder of their evening, Colby reading through his list while the other three agents filled out reports about the day's incidents. Right before seven, Colby smiled and held up a page for the others to see.

"Victor Wilson," he announced. "Arrested in '05 for suspicion of weapons trafficking. Also has two more arrests this year for suspicion of drug trafficking."

"Sounds promising," Don nodded.

"Promising, nothing," Colby told his boss. "Guess what sleaze ball lawyer showed up for his questioning?"

"Lamar Salazar," Megan said.

"You got it," Granger replied. "Lawyer of choice for anyone in organized crime."

"Have LAPD put out an APB on Wilson," Don ordered. "See if we can get him in here for questioning."

"Will do."

Waiting until Colby had done as requested, Don addressed his team. "Good work today, guys. I know we lost Cruz but there's nothing you could have done differently. Hopefully the van will give us some new leads."

"It has to," David said. "We're due for a big break."

"Past due," Don nodded. "Let's knock off for tonight. You know the drill – bright and early tomorrow morning."

Don watched as his team said their good nights and left before turning to his computer to shut it down. He noticed the new mail message and checked his inbox, a laugh escaping his lips at the user who had sent him a message – Fibonacci112358. Atta boy, Chuck, Don grinned as he opened the message.

Donny-boy,

Have just gotten settled in. Will work on locations tomorrow. Hope you are safe. Oh, Fibonacci, Sr says hi and be careful.

Later.

Golden Ratio

Don chuckled as he closed the message out and turned off his computer before grabbing his jacket and heading to the elevators. Checking his watch, Don frowned as he calculated how little sleep he would be getting tonight. Better sleep at Charlie's again. Just because it's closer – not because I need to feel closer him and Dad.

Yeah, right, Eppes, he groaned to himself. You always were a bad liar.

--

Unfortunately even the comfortable, welcoming aura of his brother's house couldn't soothe Don to sleep. He lay sprawled on the sofa as his mind ran ninety-to-nothing through the events of the past few days. He let out a frustrated sigh as he realized that, aside from a rare tree, they really weren't any closer to tracking down Gardenia than they had been before the disastrous raid. Two potential leads had quickly evaporated into nothing and Don was starting to wear down from all of the work he was putting into the case. He wondered if he would be as determined to catch Gardenia if it Jackson hadn't been killed.

And he almost wasn't, Don remembered with a sigh. He almost wasn't there. He shouldn't have been there…

"Hey, boss man!"

Don looked up from his desk, his face lighting up as Bobby Jackson strolled into the bullpen. "Bobby! About time you got your butt to work!" The two men shared a quick embrace before Don dragged his friend to meet the rest of his team. "Hey guys, this is Bobby," he introduced. "My friend from Albuquerque."

"David Sinclair," David said as he offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine," Jackson replied as he tightly gripped the other man's hand.

"Colby Granger."

"Pleasure," Jackson nodded.

"Megan Reeves."

"Definitely a pleasure," Bobby said with a grin.

"Afraid not," she cautioned him with an amused grin. "I've got an astronaut for a boyfriend."

"I could never compete," he shrugged with a playful smile. "Seriously, I've got a lovely wife and three wonderful kids at home. Wild horses couldn't drag me away from them." Looking back to Don and then around the bullpen, he asked, "Where's my team leader?"

"Believe it or not, he's out sick," Don informed him. "I told him you really weren't that bad-"

"Hey, old man," Jackson protested. "Don't be spoiling my reputation."

"You'd have to have had one before I could spoil it," Don shot back.

"Whatever," the younger man laughed. "So, where's my desk?"

"Right over there," Don answered as he gestured across the rows of desks. "I'll show you."

"Hey, Don," Colby stopped him. "ATF just called. You know that shipment they've been keeping an eye out for?"

"Yeah?"

"It's here. The deal's going down in the next two hours. We need to get geared up and moving ASAP if we want to make the party."

"Let them know we're on our way."

"Will do."

"A party?" Jackson asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "With bad guys in handcuffs as party favors?"

"If all goes well," Don nodded. "I'll show you to your desk but then I've got to go."

"Hey, why don't I tag along? I'd love to get my feet wet on the first day."

"You just got here," Don said doubtfully. "I don't think you should run right out into the field."

"Come on, Don," Bobby sighed. "This is me we're talking about. I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears rookie. I can help." Seeing that Don wasn't wavering, he started in again. "I bet my leader was supposed to be on the team that went in? Am I right?"

"Yes," Don hesitantly admitted.

"Then catch me up to speed on the way and I'll take his spot. And if you're still uncomfortable with the idea by the time we get there then I'll stay in the car as backup."

"Bobby…"

"Come on, boss man," Jackson said. "It'll be just like old times."

Remembering how good of an agent his friend was and that he had emphasized that in his recommendation, Don's resolve crumbled. "Toss your stuff in your desk and follow me to the locker room."

"Thanks, Don."

The last two words echoed in Don's ears as the memory faded. He couldn't believe he had given in and agreed to let Bobby go along. If he'd just gone with his instincts…

With a deep sigh, Don allowed his eyes to close and was surprised to find himself drifting off to sleep… although the nightmares that soon followed were definitely not a surprise.

--

Alfonso Delsorio prided himself on being a smart man. He'd grown up in a rough neighborhood and had quickly learned that he had a flair for criminal activities. He'd learned how to successfully determine which up and comers were going to make the big time and how to stay on their good side, even if it meant spinning a lie or two to remain there. Given how dangerous it could be to tell an untruth to a crime boss, Delsorio had perfected the skill over the years.

A fact he was tremendously grateful for at the moment.

"What went wrong this time?" Gardenia was asking, his normally even voice holding a hint of anger.

"Wilson screwed up," Delsorio answered, his unblinking gaze never wavering from his boss's face. "He was driving the van…" Lie number one. "…And he made the shot that took Cruz down." Lie number two.

"And you were with him?"

"Yes, I was. Wilson was a pretty impressive member of our organization so I wanted to test him to see if he should be advanced up the ranks."

"But he screwed up," Gardenia hissed. "This little incident was all over the news. 'Gunfire on the Streets of LA' I think they called it." Leaning across his desk, his eyes boring into Delsorio's, he added, "I saw Cruz on the cameras. Did you realize there was a news crew right there when it happened?"

"Oh?" Alfonso asked as his mouth grew dry.

"Doing a behind-the-scenes bit on the life of an exotic dancer," Gardenia said dismissively. "Completely ridiculous if you ask me, but it did give them a front row seat for what happened. You two are very fortunate that they didn't turn the cameras toward the action until after you got away. But… would you like to know what they did catch on tape?"

Delsorio gave a nod despite the way his stomach knotted in fear.

"Cruz was talking to the Feds!"

"No way," Delsorio shook his head, before realizing he'd just contradicted a very powerful and dangerous man. "I mean if you saw it then of course it happened, but I saw Cruz go down."

"Well this Wilson moron didn't make a very good shot," Gardenia growled. "Because Cruz was still alive long enough to speak."

Alfonso nodded in agreement, silently praising himself for having the foresight to have brought Wilson with him. The second in command had wanted a scapegoat in case he screwed up the hit and Wilson had been more than eager to oblige. Of course the unwitting man had thought he was being promoted – not set up to take a fall.

"Alfonso!"

Delsorio looked up at the sharp tone of his boss's voice and shook his head. "Sorry. I was thinking of our next move."

"While I appreciate your trying to stay ahead in the game, I expect my questions answered first."

"Of course."

"What happened to your vehicle after the hit?"

"Wilson," Delsorio spat angrily. "He was driving and he ran right into an eighteen wheeler. We were doing good to escape with our lives and our freedom."

"So this Wilson fellow almost cost us a great deal," Gardenia stated as he expectantly eyed his second in command.

"Yes," Alfonso replied. "He was also Cruz's contact so if Cruz did talk, he probably gave up Wilson's name."

"Then you know what needs to be done."

"I'll take care of it," Delsorio assured him, seeing no reason to let his boss know that he had already eliminated his scapegoat. "There is one other matter I wanted to run past you."

"Go ahead."

"The agent chasing us in the SUV today was Eppes."

"What?" Gardenia angrily demanded. "I thought that little stunt with his brother was supposed to scare him off."

"It should have," Delsorio insisted. "Maybe I miscalculated his feelings about his brother or maybe he's just stupid or uncaring. Either way, I think we need to do something more permanent to his family."

"You're the one who said that killing his brother would bring in a whole new headache of federal agencies," the crime boss pointed out.

"And I still think it would. But his father is a different story – no ties to any law enforcement agency. We can use him to send a very clear, very powerful message to Eppes. Something he can't ignore."

"Sounds good," Gardenia nodded in approval. "But I expect you to handle this matter personally. I don't want any more screw ups."

"No sir," he assured his boss. "I'll handle everything myself."

Gardenia nodded and Delsorio stepped out of his boss's office and into the hallway. Only then did he allow a shaky breath to slip from his mouth. He could only imagine what his fate would have been if his boss found out that he had been the one to screw up the latest hit. But, Alfonso reminded himself. I am a very smart man. That's why I made sure Wilson never had a chance to tell anyone what really went down today.

--

"Why do I feel like we're banging our heads against a brick wall?" Don asked early the next morning as he and his team stood in a deserted alley.

"This is ridiculous," Colby growled as he knelt beside the dead body of Victor Wilson. "They're killing people faster than we can find them!"

"What did LAPD say when they called this morning?" Don asked David.

"Just that they'd found our boy, single gunshot to the head, execution-style." David cocked his head and studied the corpse, especially the area around the injury. "I know we're waiting on the ME, but I'd say the bullet caliber is the same as the one that killed Sergio."

"I think that's a safe bet," Don agreed. "I also think it's a safe bet that his prints match any we find in the van."

"Right," David nodded as he looked back at his notes. "They've canvassed the area and no one reported hearing gunshots last night or this morning."

"He was probably killed somewhere else," Don said. "After the Sergio thing I imagine they realized the wisdom in killing the victim in one place and then dumping his body in another." Looking around the filthy, junk-filled alley, Don fought back a wave of hopelessness. "Might as well see what we can find."

The four agents spread out and walked the area around the crime scene, looking for anything that might help them in their search for Gardenia or his hit man. Minutes turned into a couple of hours as each agent methodically looked under, around and through piles of worthless garbage in the hopes of finding that one thing that could break the case wide open.

"Anything?" Don yelled across the alley to his team.

"Yeah – days old vomit really stinks."

"There's a helpful clue, Granger," Megan shot back. Looking at Don, she shook her head. "Nothing here."

"David?" the senior agent asked.

"Maybe," he called back as he gingerly lifted an old, tattered blanket by its frayed corner. Holding it up, he pointed to a large red stain near one end. "Maybe our vic was wrapped up and transported in this?"

"Maybe," Don agreed as he and the other two agents joined David. Kneeling down, Don studied the lower edge of the blanket. "Looks like some kind of mud stain or something down here."

"Weird color, though," Megan observed. "Maybe it's something rare, too?"

"Bag it and send it to forensics," Don told David. "With any luck, we'll get another variable Charlie can use to narrow down the search."

--

"Charles!"

The professor jumped at the loud voice, nearly sending his laptop crashing to the floor. Looking up, he smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Uncle Ernesto. You kind of caught me off guard."

"Why are you out here working?" the other man asked in a hurt voice. "I thought you and your father were here to spend time with me."

"We are," Charlie assured his uncle. "But Don's got a really important case he's working on-"

"I know that," Ernesto said with a shake of his head. "It's why he couldn't come."

"Right. Well, I was helping him but we left before I could give him the data that he needed."

"Ah, yes," the older man said with a smile. "Your father – who does believe in visiting with his family – said that you and Don had started working a lot together these past few years. You actually like getting involved in such horrible stuff?"

"I don't like seeing what man is capable of," Charlie said with a shake of his head. "But I like being able to help catch the creeps who commit such horrible crimes. And… I like helping Don. He sees more horrors than I could even dream of, so I love to be able to help him move past them as quickly as possible."

"That's a very noble thing to do," Ernesto said as he beamed at his nephew. "I always told Alan that his boys would grow to be outstanding men." He gestured to Charlie's laptop and then back to the house. "You can do this inside, you know. You don't have to exile yourself to my garage."

"Umm," Charlie blushed in embarrassment. "I do my best thinking in a garage."

"Oh," his uncle chuckled. "A mechanic of the mind, perhaps?"

"I don't fix people's minds," the professor countered.

"No, but you evaluate criminals and their crimes, right?"

"Yes."

"Like running a diagnostic on a crime scene – this is what happened here, which caused this here… And your work helps the FBI streamline its investigation? Makes them more efficient?"

"I guess I do," Charlie nodded.

"So one machine runs better while you look for flaws to help you stop the other from causing damage," Ernesto summarized. "Mental mechanic."

Laughing at his uncle's weird yet interesting argument, Charlie nodded. "Okay then, I guess I am a mechanic."

"Well, tell me, my favorite mechanic, may I at least bring you some sort of refreshment to help you through your work?"

"Tea would be great."

"Coming up," Ernesto told him as he turned to leave. He paused at the door and glanced back at his nephew. "I'm no fool, you know. I know you and your father aren't here on 'vacation'." Charlie shrugged under his uncle's studious gaze. "I figured there must be something going on at home. Something that requires your brother's presence while also requiring that your and your father not be there."

"If we thought you were in any danger-" Charlie began.

"I know," Ernesto smiled softly. "And I want you to know that you are welcome to stay as long as you need to."

"Thank you," the professor replied appreciatively.

"And I also want you to know that I am every bit as proud of you and Don as your father is." Ernesto grew serious and jabbed a finger in the direction of his nephew's laptop. "Now, get to work so Don can catch the creep that's trying to hurt my family."

"Will do, Uncle Ernesto."

--

"You were right about the prints in the van," David told his boss after they had returned to the office. "They belonged to our dead guy."

"Great," Don sighed in frustration. "Another dead end."

"There is some interesting information about the van itself," David told him. "It was reported stolen from a used car lot in Anaheim three days ago."

"The Tecate cypress we found was indigenous to San Diego," Don thought aloud. "Anaheim is right between LA and San Diego."

"And the van was stolen about the time the raid went bad," Colby added. "That's a whole lot of coincidences."

"It sure is," Megan agreed. "But even knowing that he's probably in San Diego, that's a lot of area to search."

"Go ahead and alert the locals down there that we suspect Gardenia might be in their area," Don told her. "But if they do spot him, I don't want them making a move until we get there."

"I'm on it," she told him as she picked up the phone and started making some calls.

"Charlie's search should be able to help us narrow this down even farther," Colby said. "Has he contacted us yet?"

"I haven't checked since we got back from the field," Don told him as he booted up his computer. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the desktop as his email program loaded. The resulting chime indicating new mail was the best sound he'd heard in days. "Here it is."

Donny-boy,

Hope things are still going well. Here's the short version of what I've found out:

Tecate Cypress occurs from Orange and San Diego counties down into Baja California, usually on rocky slopes and inclines. In Orange County it's concentrated in a reserve in Irvine where no residences are allowed, so I put significantly less emphasis on that region.

Based on his previous two safe houses, he likes isolation, moderate to richly developed landscaping on the scale of five to ten acres and a good view.

I took a topographical map of the San Diego and Baja California regions and cross-referenced it to population density maps. I attached the resulting map and highlighted areas by their likelihood. Red has the highest probability and blue has the lowest. It's still a lot of land and nearly two thousand residences, but that's the best I could do. I'm working on getting some surveyor's maps of the areas to see if I can further narrow the results by acreage, but I haven't had any luck so far.

Hope that helps a little. Later when I have more.

Golden Ratio

"Golden Ratio?" David asked with a chuckle as he read over his boss's shoulder.

"Forget that," Colby smirked. "Donny-boy?"

"Another word on that and you'll do desk duty the rest of your career," Don cautioned Colby. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, a deep frown creasing his face. "Two thousand residences? That's a whole lot of properties to research."

"We should get the forensics report back on Wilson and the alley tomorrow," David reminded him. "Hopefully we'll get something useful from that."

"I doubt it with the way this case is going," Don grumbled. Looking at his watch he groaned at the late hour, his frustration ratcheting as he realized they had wasted yet another day. "Call it a night, guys. Be-"

"Back in the morning, bright and early," Megan finished as she rejoined her friends. "We have to get you a new line, Don."

"Just as soon as we catch Gardenia," he promised her. "Now go home before I change my mind." He grinned as his team made an exaggerated point of rushing to the elevator and waving goodbye. He just shook his head as he turned back to his computer and typed a response.

Golden Ratio,

Glad you and Fib Sr arrived safe. Thanks for the info. It may be a lot to search but it's better than what we had before. Take care and hope to see you soon.

Donny-boy

P.S. If you ever call me Donny-boy in person they'll never find your body.

With a huge smile, Don turned off his computer and left his workstation for the night. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd already pointed his SUV in the direction of Charlie's house.

--

Delsorio stealthily moved through the Eppes' backyard to the driveway, peeking over the fence to find two cars parked there. Momentarily confused, he glanced over at the darkened house and searched for any sign that somebody was home. Finding none, he deduced that the father and son must be out with someone and that this would be the perfect time to sneak in and wait for his victim to arrive. The only concern he had now was how to kill the old man without seriously harming the brother.

Just get inside, he thought. Then you can figure the rest out.

He crept to the back door and tried the handle, disappointed but not surprised when it didn't budge. Alfonso briefly considered breaking a pane of glass in the door, but didn't want the men to see something was amiss when they arrived home. He decided to circle the ground floor of the house, looking for a window that seemed dirtier and less used than all the others. Delsorio finally found what he'd been looking for and, as quietly as possible, broke through one of the panes. Hefting the window up, he scrambled inside and landed hard on the floor, almost hitting his head on the sturdy leg of a nautilus weight bench.

Perfect, he thought. This is the least likely room for them to use tonight with them getting home so late.

Alfonso walked to the door and peered through it, marveling at how good of a view he had of the front door and the living room. I can just watch them from here and either get the old man after the son goes to bed, or wait until they've both gone and kill the father in his room.

Finding a comfortable and inconspicuous place to position himself, Delsorio settled in and waited for his target to arrive.

TBC