This is a disclaimer! NOBODY MOVE! Open the register and fill it with denial about owning anything to do with Numb3rs! Then slowly, reeeeeeal slowly, put in the story and the character of Diane Armstrong! They're mine anyway!

Now step away from the desk – you push that silent alarm and I'll bring this whole goddamn place down!

This has probably been the weirdest disclaimer you've ever read…

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Colby stood quietly, studying the layout of the warehouse and its surrounding area, re-familiarising himself with every angle, every vantage point, every potential trap. The authority for a snatch and grab mission had been given the go-ahead. Don had relented. This was a military operation, not an FBI one. He had to let Colby and Ian take the lead on this one. He was in unfamiliar territory now, and only those two had any kind of map. Colby and Ian were both SWAT trained. They would be leading a small team in, with Colby on point. Ian would be covering from a nearby rooftop, but would be ready to move in if needed. The FBI team would be out front, covering the most obvious exit route. Colby had warned them. "If she shoots, she's gonna go for a head shot. Body armour is gonna be no use in this case." He had paused. "Wear a hat." The flippant line was filled with meaning. Keep your heads down.

Don looked out over the city from the roof of the federal building towards the Lehman Brothers block across the street. He was sure. Sure they were missing something…

Don turned and walked back into the building, turning things over in his mind. This was all so goddamn convoluted! Why set up the security forces like this? What the hell were they hoping to achieve? As he had said to Colby earlier, this wasn't just about personal revenge now. Sure, that was a small sideline of Diane's, but it was bluff, counter bluff and double bluff. There was something else…

The lift doors opened and Don stepped out into the office. He could see Colby alone in one of the side rooms, staring at the floorplan of the warehouse. The man looked deep in thought. He was already dressed in the black fatigues of SWAT and Don suddenly thought that he had never looked more comfortable. His posture was relaxed – he seemed to fit the uniform. Not Agent Granger. Captain Granger. Yeah. One hundred percent…

Don pushed the door open and walked in quietly. Colby turned abruptly and a small flicker of a smile flashed across his face. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. Problem?"

"No. Just checkin', is all." Colby frowned. "Back at ya with the problem question, Don."

Don sighed and perched on the edge of the table next to Colby. For some reason, he finally felt that he could talk candidly to his junior officer. "I dunno. Are we missing something here, Col?"

"Like?"

"That's the problem. I have no idea. Just this kinda nagging, gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach."

"You had lunch?"

"Col…"

"Sorry." The man flashed that smile again. "I know what you mean, though. We managed to get anything from Bernard?"

"Megan is with him now. You know how persuasive she can be when she gets going." Don rubbed his face. "Col, we have eight hours left. Any word on those two comrades she wants released?"

"No go. Never was any chance of that happening. That's why I'm still a bit confused about this whole damn thing. She's a good soldier, Don. And a good agent. She knew damn well that we'd never agree to the release. Not even for the sake of David's life. So she's expecting a rescue mission. If she is in the pay of the warlords, what the hell can she hope to achieve by creating a fucking bloodbath in the middle of downtown LA? It…I dunno. Something just isn't making any sense here." Colby crossed his arms and turned to Don. "Any thoughts?"

Don stared at the map, lost in thought.

"Don?"

"Col, could she be a triple?"

"Oh, man, don't give me a freakin' headache, dude!"

"I'm serious."

"Jesus, if she is, she's been goddamn convincing!"

"So were you, Col." Don spoke the words quietly. He felt like he was going back on his promise never to throw Colby's past back in his face again. "I don't have the contacts to find out." He looked at Colby.

"But I do, right?" Don nodded. Colby didn't respond. He stared at the map, not making eye contact with his boss. "You have any idea how hard I've tried to put all this shit behind me, Don? Huh?" He laughed quietly to himself. "Well, guess a leopard can't change its spots. Once a spook, always a spook, right?"

"Colby…"

"No seriously, Don, it's okay." Colby sighed deeply. "Guess runnin' away from it just made it all the clearer to me. Tryin' to be a good little FBI agent just didn't cut it with me, did it?" He looked at Don, his green eyes sad. "When all this is over, I'm gonna take that DC job, Don. I think it's best for everyone."

"I don't want that, Col. I want you as part of my team."

"That's never gonna happen. I'll never be part of the team again. I'm the same as Ian, Don. We're both soldiers, not agents. Sure, we carry the same badges as you, but that's about the only goddamn similarity we have with you, or David or Meg. You know that, I know that. I think my, um, talents would probably serve a better cause somewhere else."

"I don't think David'll see it like that, Colby."

Colby's voice suddenly had a hard edge to it. "David'll be just fine." He pushed himself off the corner of the desk and turned to face his boss. "I have a phonecall to make." He nodded curtly and walked wordlessly towards the door. As his hand touched the doorhandle…

"Colby?" Colby stopped dead and turned his head, glancing over his shoulder at Don's back. Don turned and faced him, his features hard. "This conversation isn't over. When this is all finished, you and I are going to resume where we left off. Clear?"

Colby turned the handle and walked out without another word…

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Colby found a quiet spot on the roof. He didn't know that it was exactly the same spot that Don had just vacated…

He flipped his cell-phone out and pressed a combination of numbers. He waited…"Granger. I need to talk to Clarkson." There was a pause as the line was connected. A click told Colby that the recorders had been activated. He shrugged. Same old, same old…

"Granger. Long time no speak."

"Cut the crap, Clarkson."

"How's things?"

"Like you don't know already. We go in in three hours."

"Good. Colby, I'd really appreciate it if you could see your way to not shoot Captain Armstrong in the head. We've recently discovered that she's more use to us alive."

"And why exactly would that be then, Clarkson, huh? What possible use could a rogue be to you?"

"She can give us information about the Kosovo connection, the same way as you gave us intel on the Chinese, Colby, c'mon man! You know how this works!" Clarkson's voice took on a whiny, pleading tone, as if he assumed that Colby would just agree with him.

Colby's fingers tensed around the phone. "I can't make any promises. Just confirm one thing for me. Is she a triple?"

"Whoa, blunt and to the point, ain't ya? Always liked that about you, Colby. No, she's not. She's been off-script for over a year. We didn't think too much of it at the start. The usual notice was issued concerning her." Colby knew what that meant. Shoot on sight. She had spent the last year running around with at least two targets on her back. And she was still alive. Jesus, she was playing one fuck-off dangerous game! "Once we got over the Chinese problem with you, we turned our attention back to your old partner, Col. We knew she'd be gunning for you as soon as she heard you were back in play. I guess she counted on your, shall we call it, history to play this dumb-assed game with everyone. She always did like to play games, didn't she Col?"

"I worked with her twice, Clarkson. Once in Afghanistan, once in Kosovo. That's all. She was not my fucking partner."

"Yes, and look how that Kosovo thing turned out for her, my friend. Oh, hang on, I get it! You been lying to your friends again, Col? Told them this is all to do with her brother's death? That you'd only met her the once? Man, you are priceless!" Clarkson laughed heartily. "I take it you're gonna go for a reassignment when all this is done, then? After all, they find out about this colossal lie and dude, I promise you, they ain't never gonna trust you again!" Clarkson's deep, southern drawl made the words sound mocking, taunting his operative. "Listen, all joking aside, we'll be more than happy to have you back. Truth be told, we were pushing for your reassignment anyway. You're a damn good agent, Colby. Damn good. And you're far better than Armstrong. You know that. She got caught. You didn't. Simple math, my friend. Simple math. Bring her back with you. I'll see you soon."

The line went dead.

Colby snapped the phone shut, and then with a bellow of rage, hurled the phone into the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces. There was no way. No way he was going back to that. Not after that conversation. Issued the usual notice. His history with Diane. The phrases rang in his head. Clarkson was manipulating him. Twisting his past in on itself and showing him a side of himself that he'd buried deep inside a dark corner of his mind – aware that it was there, but refusing to acknowledge its existence. If he went back, he'd be dead in a year. Probably at the hands of his own masters. The FBI would never trust him once they got to know the full story and oh believe it, the CIA would make damn sure that Don got to hear about it, every sordid little detail. Then the recriminations would begin all over again. Only this time, they wouldn't give him the benefit of the doubt, would they? Colby covered his face with his hands and screamed in sheer frustration.

He had nowhere left to go…

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David could hear the hushed conversation between the two men and the woman. She spoke their language like a native - fluent, slightly lilting. Like some kind of creepy musical box, it grated on David's conscious. She was in it purely for profit and vengeance. What in the hell had twisted her into this? David almost, for a split second, felt sorry for her. He had seen the mental torment his friend had been through. Colby's uncertainty, his loss of confidence, his refusal to open up to anyone – he could see all of this in her. Only she was a lot further down that particular dark road than his friend and partner was. David was determined. Once he got out of this alive, he would make damn sure that Colby didn't end up like her. The darkest outcome of that would be that, one day, David may have to take his friend down. And he couldn't bear the thought of that ever becoming a possibility…

The conversation broke up and Diane approached David. She dragged a chair behind her, the sound like nails being scraped down a chalkboard. The chair clattered and she sat down, opposite David. "Hey. You doin' okay in there, old son?" There was almost a note of genuine concern in her voice. Almost. But to David, it was just another mocking jest at him. "No, really." She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her thighs, her hands interlocked in front of her. "I'd hate for CJ to think I wasn't taking good care of you."

"Is it important to you what Colby thinks, Diane?" Try to connect with her. Colby would probably kick his arse if he knew, but it was worth a shot.

"Yes." The reply was quiet, thoughtful. "Ya know, me and CJ? We go a long way back, David. He was my wingman in Kosovo, you know. Couldn't have asked for a better partner." Diane's voice sounded wistful. "Of course, that was before I found out that he'd sell his own grandmother if he thought it was for the greater good, but hey, who knew?"

"I thought all this was about your brother?"

Diane let out a short shout of laughter. "Michael? Oh, hell no! I mean, well, yes, that is a little bit of unfinished business there, but ya see, CJ didn't just kill my brother. He abandoned me as well. Left me in Kosovo to rot while he got his own lily-white arse out of the combat zone. Saved his own skin. Betrayed me and mine. Double whammy."

"That's not the Colby I know."

"Yeah, well, David, six months ago you thought he was just your partner, didn't you? Just another bog-standard, ordinary Fed. Show's how much you know."

"So this war you've decided to start, Diane. Why now?"

"Because the opportunity presented itself. I've made quite a nice living out of doing this kinda thing, my friend. Hey, let's face it. I've been trained by the best in the world! Your good ol' CIA buddies. I mean, damn! Those guys really have double crossing off down to a tee, don't they? No wonder CJ fits in so well." She leaned forward, an amused, quizzical expression on her face. "David? Are you trying to connect with your interrogator?" She leaned back, grinning broadly. "Oh, my! CJ did teach you well, didn't he? Ah, well, here's the thing, sweetie. Guess who taught him?"

"Oh, I think I know."

"Bright kid. I like you, David. Listen. I promise, I'll only kill you if I really, really have to. Girl Guide's honour. Let's hope and prey that CJ doesn't give me any cause to change my mind, know what I mean?" She stood up suddenly, pushing the chair away. Glancing at her watch, she frowned. "He's late."

"There's another six hours to the deadline."

"Oh, c'mon. You think CJ's gonna wait to the last minute? Surely he's worked out where you are by now." Her mouth formed a comic 'o'. "Oh gosh! You don't…oh David, you don't think that he's decided not to bother, do you? Because that would be so disappointing! Or even worse, here, try this on for size, perhaps he hasn't had the brains to work it out yet! Waddya think, David? Huh? Waddya think?"

"I think you've gotten to like the sound of your own voice way too much, Di." Colby's voice was icy cold. Diane spun around, the gun already in her hand. Colby faced her, the two Ukrainians lying unconscious or dead on the floor. She couldn't tell for sure which at this distance. Colby stood in front of her, his gun held straight out in front of him. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch." He snarled the excuse at her, a feral look on his face.

A slow smile crept across Diane's face. "CJ! I was worried…a-a-a! I'd stand very still if I were you, sweetheart. Before you decide to do anything rash, perhaps you'd care to take a look at your buddy's new designer body armour?" She stepped to the left, giving Colby a clear view of his partner.

Wrapped around David's torso was enough plastique explosive to blow the entire block into the Pacific Ocean…

TBC…