Prompt: hurt_don #7 What: drugs Where: warehouse
Day 7
Don hadn't been a part of the actual raid, having decided that it would be stupid and dangerous for him and his team, considering how much he was still limping and hurting. But, with five of the men involved in the drug manufacturing in custody, he'd joined the rest of his team in the warehouse to go through what they'd found. It was a fairly big operation, bigger than what they'd expected, so Don was extremely happy that the raid had gone as well as it had.
He was checking one of the myriad of rooms in the warehouse when he grunted in satisfaction at finding part of the money stash. There were footsteps behind him and he started to say, "Hey, guess what I've fou—"
A blow to the back of the head stopped him mid-word, causing him to stumble, off balance. Another impact sent him to his hands and knees, followed quickly by a kick to the chest that left him curled in pain on the floor. Something crashed against the side of his head and he was out for the count.
Groaning, he regained consciousness a couple of minutes later, bringing his hand to his throbbing head to find blood on his face.
"What happened?" he murmured, pushing himself off the floor and grimacing when it sent pain throughout his chest. His right hand rubbed lightly at the sore area. He looked around and the first thing he noticed was that the money he'd been looking at was gone. The FBI windbreaker and baseball-type cap that he'd been wearing were also gone. Brain fully kicking into gear, he pulled himself off the floor and ran to the door, ignoring the complaints of his body. He headed towards the exit, attracting the attention of Colby and David who followed him as he flew past the rooms they were looking at. Seeing a figure running in the distance once he got outside, Don pointed at it.
"You missed one."