Special thanks to ancientmaverick for beta reading! Thank you very much! All remaining mistakes are my own.

Thank you mega07ghost for your continued support through your reviews! And thank you everybody else for reading.

YESTERDAY FUTURE, TODAY PAST III

Wed, Sept 23 - 09:45 - Flynn Logistics Warehouse, Los Angeles

"Do they know that we have them under surveillance?" Joe Flynn asked his right hand man Randall.

"I don't think so. I caught up with them just as they wanted to go to sleep."

"Good." Flynn nodded and returned his attention back to the monitors. The speaker phones were good enough to even hear their breathing. He now just had to wait for them to start talking.

"What do you think the old man wants?" Stu Hall said. He had introduced himself just as Stu, as if this would protect him from anything. Flynn had known everything about him two hours later.

His companion Daniel Holland just shrugged.

"Why do we have to wait?" Stu Hall stroked his dark and long hair out of his face, glaring around the bare room. The short stubble on his chin underlined his skinny appearance. He wore a formerly white tee and dark jeans. He didn't look any better than the last time Joe had seen him.

Holland sighed. "I'd rather wait here than in the morgue." He wore clean clothes, was clean shaven, and appeared at least half-way sober.

"You know that this is good, right? If anybody ever hears about our meeting and its topic, Flynn's invincibility is history." Stu grinned, and Joe could see the greed in his eyes.

"Careful, man, I don't think we're here because he likes to chat."

"And why else?"

Holland stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You have to ask?"

"Come on, man, you don't really believe that the guy could have survived the last dose? He was done even if we didn't see it."

Holland crossed his arms. "I would be sure, if you hadn't taken something for yourself from our stash."

Stu kicked with his foot against a wall. "Oh, yeah? You can't really expect me to sit beside this guy for five days, drugging him and not taking something. I didn't want to waste all the good stuff on him. He would die and not even enjoy it."

"If he isn't dead, we are soon going to be dead."

Stu snorted. "I don't think so. If the old man kills all his enemies by accident like the other dude, or by such complicated schemes with drugging and overdoses, I'm still going to be around for a long time."

Joe pressed his lips together as he stared at the monitor in front of him. "This explains why they were dishonorably discharged from the Army. They not only deal and take drugs, they can't even keep quiet about their failure."

"Do you want me to interrupt them?" Randall asked.

"No. I want to hear what else they talk about." Flynn refocused his attention to the men he had paid to kill Don Eppes.

"Even if he had survived, it doesn't matter. You told the cops that he was their main drug dealer. It was exactly what they wanted to hear." Stu made his case. "I don't think they ever checked." Stu chuckled. "After five days of constant high and no personal hygiene, he didn't look like a high and mighty FBI agent anymore."

Holland nodded. The frustration was written across his face. "It's just our bad luck that the cops had to raid the drug house just as we were finishing."

Stu laughed. "I know, man. Five days we stayed hidden, and moments before we finish giving him the highest dose, the cops arrive."

His partner rubbed at his forehead. "If Eppes is alive, we have a problem."

"Nah," Stu said, "he's dead."

Flynn narrowed his eyes. "If he is not dead, then he will be real soon."

Suddenly Randall's phone rang on the table. With a quick apologizing smile, he grabbed his phone and went outside. Flynn continued to stare at the men who ruined his revenge.

Robin Brooks should have never been allowed to have hope. Eppes was supposed to die through an overdose. He was supposed to be buried like a nameless drug addict, forever out of reach for his girlfriend.

Randall came back in. "This was one of our drivers." He took a deep breath. "He thinks he has seen Eppes."

Flynn looked up. "Where?"

"Construction site of the New Style Building."

"Good." Flynn pushed himself up with renewed energy. There was still time to fix this mistake. "Let's go and tell these two gentlemen what is going to happen if they fail again."

Soon, everything would be good again.

Wed, Sept 23 - 09:30 - CalSci, Los Angeles

"So," Larry said as a way of greeting as he strolled into Charlie's office on CalSci. "Are we not good assistance anymore? Or is there a more sinister reason to not call us?"

After Larry, Amita drifted in. She held her own laptop like a shield in front of her.

Charlie sighed. "I have work to do and can't help you at the moment."

Larry raised his eyebrows at Amita. "The great master can't use a little help?"

Charlie swirled around. Only slowly did his blank face morphed into one of recognition. "Oh, it's you."

"That doesn't sound much better," Amita said and strolled to the boards. "What are you working on? This isn't the network analysis of Flynn Logistics." Her finger traced lightly over the symbols and digits.

"I know how you feel about Don being alive and -"

"Charles, Charles," Larry interrupted and moved his head from left to right. "We are scientists. We are perfectly capable researching a topic we may not agree with."

Amita snapped her fingers. "This is an analysis of the LA area. It looks like you are searching for a needle in the haystack."

Charlie scratched his head, his curls flowing in the unnatural strong movement. "Yes, I'm trying to find Don." He looked down. "Now that I know he is alive and in LA."

He couldn't help but glance at his two friends as they looked at each other again. He held up his hands. "I know nobody but me believes that it was Don. Except Robin."

"Robin," Amita agreed. "She called, and we talked. She said she believes you because family is more than physical appearance. It's a joined history that needs to be integrated in an analysis, because humans are social beings. We do not make decisions solely based on our own experience but also through our social network. It sounded special coming from her."

Charlie nodded. "Yes. I know, but at the moment this part of the Convergence Emergence Theory is unimportant. It is more important to find the key components that result in Don's current decision-making process."

"Charles," Larry rubbed at his eyes and sat down on the edge of a table. "I don't think that you can separate these two instances from each other. You and your father play an important role in his decision making."

"You mean like coming out of hiding to save me?"

"Why do you think that Don is hiding?" Amita asked and turned to look at her boyfriend.

The mathematician froze. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he managed to free himself out of his congealment. "Do you think he would choose to leave us and Robin on his own free will?"

Amita smiled. "I am a mathematician. My thesis adviser once advised me to never limit the math. You should never go in with an assumption that can destroy your data."

"You mean I should just forget that Don is my brother? I don't see how this helps. I have already far too little data and information." He refocused back on his boards. He would not be diverted from his goal.

Larry sighed. "Charles, don't you think that we can have a different opinion about the way to deal with Don's distressing missing person status and still be good scientists?"

"We want to help, Charlie. And I really would like to find the man from yesterday to say thank you for helping you." Amita wrung her hands and gave him a hopeful smile. "If we check each other's work, we will prevent any assumption from tainting the little information we have."

Charlie pressed his lips together as he looked at his friends. David, Colby, Liz, and Nikki, they all stood by him even after he decided not to consult for the Bureau anymore until Don was found. They never once tried to persuade him to change his stance. Instead, they accidentally sent him information in an e-mail cc because they 'forgot' that he didn't consult anymore. It strangely only happened whenever it involved Flynn Logistics.

His father let him bring boards from the garage to the house. He brought him sandwiches and wisdom but at the end only asked of him little things so he wouldn't get lost in the math.

Now his friends who couldn't stand to see the mangled remains of his normal social life came to help him despite not believing his premise. Maybe they even wanted to prove him wrong, but they chose math and not words and emotions. They were a real family even if they disagreed on something as fundamental as if life should go on as if Don was dead or alive and still stood beside him.

He could try it. "Okay. But if I remove all assumption, there is nothing left."

"What did you try?"

"Find him based on his need to stay hidden from the FBI, the police, and Flynn Logistics. And his apparent need to still be near to his family."

Larry raised his eyebrows and put his finger to his lips. "Oh. Needle in haystack is appropriate."

"Yeah, but if I calculate the known location of cops and the time and place to be near us without being seen-"

"What," Amita raised her finger and smiled apologetically about her interruption, "if you don't search for Don-" She held her hand up to stop the protest that lay on Charlie's lips. "Let me finish. We know where a man matching Don's description was yesterday."

"On campus," Larry offered as Charlie still pressed his lips together to prevent any words from escaping.

"Exactly. And we know that this man ran away. We know from David that he came and went on foot, so he probably has no car. Taking into consideration his avoidance of the police, he didn't have many options of where to run to. If we follow his possible paths, we can limit the places he could run to that allows a living but less danger to meet the police." Amita finished. She bounced on her toes. "Charlie?"

Slowly a smile spread on his face. "Let's do it."

The next hours were filled with writing and the short discussion or even raised voices as they fought about allowed and forbidden assumption. But all in all, it was a highly productive work space. The students that poked their heads in left as they saw the hurried figures writing fast on more boards than should be possible to put in a single room.

It was almost noon before somebody managed to interrupt them successfully.

"Knock, knock." A young Hispanic woman with long dark hair stood in the door way. She had her knuckles positioned near the door frame. She rapped against the door now that she actually had the attention of the professors in the room.

"Excuse me? I'd like to ask a question about some math I've seen." She smiled a beautiful smile that lightened her whole face. "My name is Zoe. Zoe Ramos."

TBC