Thanks to all who still read this fic, especially to those who comment! I'm really glad to see that there are at least some who (seem to) like the story!
Please enjoy.
Chapter 9: Things Come to a Head
It took Don a while to even register what his father had just said. And then a few more seconds until he realized that he was wrongly snarled at. No, he didn't deserve that! He didn't deserve how his father was treating him!
"Dad," Don called after his father, who had turned away from them, disappearing towards the house. "Dad! You don't understand –"
"Oh yes, I understand very well!" Alan tramped back into the garage. "How'd you figure out that Charlie's still alive, after all? Did you calculate it? Well, then there has to be a little miscount!" Alan's voice oozed sarcasm, then turned completely earnest again. His anger wasn't reduced, though. "Be glad that your mother can't hear how you're talking about your brother!"
Don ignored the comment. He didn't want a guilty conscience now. He didn't want to lose this feeling of hope. "Dad, I know that Charlie isn't a criminal!"
As did his son, Alan seemed to understand nothing at first. "And then what –"
"Assuming that Charlie was kidnapped and that the kidnappers want to abuse his knowledge about the attacks…"
"I'd even assert that the robbers themselves were the ones who kidnapped Charles," Larry interjected. "They had the necessary basics about the alarm system and their possible targets."
Don continued. "So, if they kidnapped Charlie and they've been forcing him to do these calculations for them, that would explain why we couldn't catch them. 'Cause if Charlie doesn't want someone to see through his game, no one will."
"But… you've got… haven't you… did you find a formula or whatever or not?"
"Yeah, we did, but only because I called Larry. Nobody else would have figured it out in the foreseeable future, because Charlie and Larry are the only ones who know this formula."
"But Charlie must have known that you'd ask Amita or Larry for help," Alan objected. He was totally calm again, but still very confused.
Also Don couldn't find an answer on this one, but did conjure a counter-question. "Well, how else would you explain how we still haven't found him after two weeks?"
Alan sighed. No, he too had no answer, although even beyond his sleepless nights he brooded over how and why it all could have happened. "And what do you plan to do now?" he finally asked.
"Well," Larry began hesitantly, "I think I should check the latest attack first, to find out if my theory is correct and to get new starting-points for my algorithm. If I can convince Amita to help me I should be able to tell you how, when and where they'll strike next by tomorrow evening."
"Thank you, Larry," Don sighed sincerely, and threw his arms around him. "You're the best!"
Larry smiled faintly. "You'd better not let Charlie hear that."
8 ()() 8 ()() 8
Charlie lay backwards on the floor, calculating. He turned on his side to write. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but since his space was quite limited to the nearly-covered four walls and he didn't have a table, he had no other opportunity. At least he could stretch his legs before they tied him at the chair again.
He wished it had happened during the last assault. He desperately, painfully wished finally to get out this place, and to see the sun again. Life didn't fulfill his wishes anymore, though. But still Charlie could continually rejoice in the overwhelming and simple fact that he was alive.
He checked his calculations. In this next attack – another bank this time – human lives were at risk. Many human lives. He couldn't do anything about it, though. Sometime Larry would have figured out that it was their formula. And then they would intervene. Certainly. They would figure it out. Maybe they already had.
Charlie hoped imploringly that the team had picked up his clue. When he had talked about the jeweler's on Paxton Street as the next target, he had also mentioned that he would have done it differently. He would have hit the bank in Hollywood Square. And when he had been forced to act, he had remembered his words and hoped that the team would remember as well.
With a sudden surge of panic Charlie imagined what would happen if they didn't get it. It would go on and on, indefinitely. But he surely wouldn't have to help these criminals with their misdoings forever? No, that wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
No, certainly not. Eventually the robbers would have stolen enough money. And then they wouldn't need Charlie anymore. They would dispose of him. Well, at least better than to go on as 'cash cow', Charlie thought bitterly, and he noticed that his throat was tight.
But then, what would happen when everything was over? When these guys were finally caught? Charlie would, no doubt, have to take responsibility. And he didn't want it any other way. He wanted to make amends for what he had done.
But what would his friends say? And his father and Don?
Charlie longed so much to see them again that he had hardly given it a second thought. Would they even want to continue to have dealings with him at all? Even if he was a criminal? Even if he had helped these villains? Maybe the criminals had already killed someone without bothering to tell Charlie about it?
Then he would be a murderer.
8 ()() 8 ()() 8
Don was relieved to see that Amita didn't cry, although her eyes were reddened and glassy. She pulled herself together, though, and along with Larry, she started to work with ardor. And indeed, when evening came, they had a result.
"A little bank in one of the suburbs," Amita told him. "They're planning to raid it."
"Raid?" Don was confused and anxious at the same time. "Are you sure? I thought by now they were looking for the method with the lowest risk."
"Not necessarily. They just stick to the formula. It does yield the lowest risk, but it is still possible that their attacks could bear a bigger risk if they behaved differently."
"Yeah… Charlie said something like that, too," Don remembered.
"So why do you ask?" Amita suddenly spat, but Don didn't take it personally and pretended not to have heard her. He knew that Amita would regret her testy behavior later, and he didn't want her to blame herself for these outbursts. Since she knew that Charlie was probably still alive, she was no longer so downhearted, but very tensed instead. It made no sense to try to console her right now.
"And when?" Don asked instead.
"Wednesday," Larry answered. "Probably around eleven o'clock in the morning."
"Then we'll be there. Thank you, guys. I think it's time to help the investigating team along."
