Numb3rs: Crosshairs
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
CHAPTER TEN
-100-1-10110-1001-100-
Hearing the report from Nikki David had no choice but to order his cars to maintain their tail on the suspect vehicle. With Don still in play they couldn't simply force it to stop and engage the offenders. By tailing it they may get the chance to choose their moment to strike.
There was a beep in his ear indicating someone linking in. "Agent Sinclair, report."
It was Wright, he would have been monitoring the situation at the incident room at the field office via the link but obviously wanted it spelled out. "Sir, they've taken Agent Eppes. Nelson's transponder is still working and we are tailing their getaway vehicle."
"Options?"
"Hit them now and Agent Eppes will be caught in the crossfire, he would have no chance in a vehicle. If we wait we may get a better solution."
"Resources?"
"I have five vehicles involved in the tail, a total of ten agents. I also have a LAPD helicopter following them at high altitude." He'd ordered Nikki's unit, 7591 to temporarily hand over the scene at Don's SUV to the LAPD and rejoin the pursuit. Understanding that the question also referred to what resources he wanted he added, "I would like SWAT to be available once we get a location."
"SWAT have been authorised and are on standby holding here. Agent King is awaiting a target."
"Thank-you, sir."
"Any idea where they are taking him?"
"They are currently heading west on the 10." David explained but had to make the following admission. "Other than that, no sir."
"The priority is Agent Eppes' safety. Keep me apprised."
"Sir." While it had been a case of spelling out the situation David had gained an important piece of information. Don was considered the priority. Whilst that didn't mean they should just let the wanted men escape, if the situation came down to an absolute choice he had his direction spelt out for him. It was what he would have done but it was good to have support from the bosses. They would do whatever it took to get Don out and then worry about taking down the snipers.
"Alright, let's pack this up and head out." David ordered. Sommers was already shutting down the external cameras and microphones. The link would remain up and running as they prepared to leave Pershing Square to head west, following the red van.
"Turning north on the 605." The current lead car reported in his ear.
"Charlie Two received." With the computer shut down David jotted the report down on a clipboard.
Driving through the inner cordon they stopped for a minute as David briefed the LAPD supervisor. The uniform officer still had some work ahead of him, confirming that the square was safe before reopening the area to the public.
"Get your man back, Agent." McGarry said by way of farewell. "You need anything you call us."
Thanking the supervisor they headed out as another progress report came in.
"Taking the right onto the 210, heading west again." It was a different voice, the tailing vehicles having swapped over to avoid detection.
They had made their own way onto the 10, heading west when the call they'd been waiting for came in.
"Pulling in at the Super 8 Motel, Azusa." Colby reported.
"Can you see Don?" David asked.
"Stand-by. Looks like they're getting out." There was a pause. "Got him, they're taking him inside."
"How is he?"
"Not too good but moving under his own steam."
That was a relief, confirmation that Don was still alive. "Okay. We're fifteen minutes out. You're lead until we get there. I want every side of that motel covered. Get someone they won't recognise to get the room number from management. Hold if you can, SWAT are authorised, I'll get them heading in."
A quick call back to the field office and within minutes SWAT reported that they were moving, the delay caused by obtaining the motel's blueprints from their file. Their ETA was twenty-five minutes.
"Got movement." Colby suddenly reported. "One man returning to the van, looks like Jack. He's leaving, turning south. 8633 and 7591 tail him."
Almost exactly fifteen minutes later the Mobile Command Centre truck pulled into the rear of a nearby mini-mall, an ideal staging point out of casual sight and blocked from the motel by the mall building. They'd set up and SWAT were pulling in followed by two ambulances when new information was added to the equation.
"This is 5899." Agent Suffolk reported, his voice soft. He was the agent Colby had sent in to obtain the room number. He was staying in the manager's office where he could keep an eye on the door to the room where Don was being held. "Two men have just entered."
-100-1111-1110-
Lying on the floor of the van Don had no landmarks to guide him as to where he was being taken. It came as some relief when the van stopped and the door finally opened to find that they were at the back of a motel and not in some remote area. He was certain that a remote area would have meant they were about to kill him, the motel suggested that they were going to continue holding him to ensure their escape as they'd stated. Nelson tucked his gun into his waistband before climbing out. The agent carefully sat up as Brad kept a watchful eye on him from the doorway.
From what he could see the motel was a cheap one, the brick on the rear of the building was old and covered with exposed plumbing. There were no doors along the wall, just a walkway nearby that appeared to go through the building. Don recognised the basic design, parking at the rear of the building and the entrances to the rooms would be from a central courtyard area probably housing a small pool. There were probably hundreds of such hotels throughout the greater LA basin. He had nothing to narrow down his actual location, not recognising the name of the hotel visible on the banding painted around the top of the wall.
"Here, cover up your arm." Brad ordered tossing a jacket at his captive.
Making his stiffening arm work he pulled the jacket on. Jack's suit jacket didn't quite match the trousers he was wearing but it would work well enough to conceal the blood on the sleeve of his shirt. When they made their way towards a motel room they were going to be out in public. Concealing his injury would make the group less noticeable. The incident today would have drawn quite considerable publicity and he was sure that a fair proportion of LA would notice a group of men escorting an injured man. Even though the odds of someone actually reporting what they'd seen were relatively slim due to the type of neighbourhood it was more than reasonable to avoid taking the risk. When he was ready he looked back up at Brad, waiting for instructions.
Brad carefully looked around before reaching under his shirt and pulling out his handgun, holding it down against his leg where it would be less noticeable. "Out."
Moving carefully Don complied. He stopped for a moment, gripping the edge of the door as he worked to keep his balance. The van had been air-conditioned but now he was back out in the heat and he once again found he had no more tolerance for it. A tug on the suit jacket and he had to move back a pace to allow Jack to push the door shut. A chirp and the van was locked.
"Stay real close, Fed." Brad ordered. "Let's go."
Jack then led the way towards the walkway. Don glanced at Nelson as the older man moved off, but he barely returned the look as he turned to follow his friend. A shove against his left shoulder and Don could do nothing but obey. It was taking all his effort to stay upright, he was in no condition to resist even if he could. Brad was almost in contact behind and slightly to the left of him. His proximity both hid the weapon and made its threat all the greater for it. He had no doubt that Brad would use the gun if he felt it necessary.
They were through the walkway and sure enough there was a small pool in the centre of the courtyard, a path around it leading to the doorways of the ground floor rooms. A man was just entering his own room on the opposite side of the courtyard. He didn't notice the group and Don made no attempt to attract his attention. They passed one of several stairways that led up to the next level before reaching a ground floor room with an open door. Brad bumped against his back when he unconsciously slowed forcing him to enter the room. He was given a final shove before Brad turned and closed the door, flipping the deadbolt.
His feet managed not to betray him as he stumbled to a stop in the middle of the room. Looking around Don was not surprised at the basic layout, two double beds, a bench along one wall, bar fridge and two chairs. Slightly out of place was a single cot along the far wall, something that was not standard but usually available on request for an extra guest. A door led off to one side which would be to the en-suite. The most important thing for him at the moment was that the room was cool.
He'd barely taken this in before Brad marched aggressively up to him, weapon raised. The younger man roughly pushed him until his back hit the wall. He was spun and pressed face first against it as a hand at his collar jerked roughly downwards. He twisted first one way and then the other as the jacket was pulled away, hissing in pain as his wounded arm was jostled. Next he identified a hard point against his back as the muzzle of the handgun as Brad's spare hand ran over his body searching him. The handcuff pouch at his back was opened and the cuffs removed before the pouch itself was pulled off his belt along with his ammunition pouch, empty holster and badge. His wallet and ID were taken from his pockets. Finally after running his hand down Don's legs Brad moved back.
The agent started to turn before a heavy blow to the base of his neck sent him crashing to the floor after bouncing off the wall.
"Hey, ease up!" Nelson suddenly protested.
Brad repeated his excuse from the parking garage, "Just making sure he doesn't try anything, Dad."
Groggily Don reached a hand up to rub at the back of his neck but it was grabbed and he saw the flash of his handcuffs out the corner of his eye. A sudden weight pressed him against the floor as Brad knelt on him with one knee. Within a few seconds both of his hands were secured behind him. Brad shifted slightly before a hard blow to his right kidney had Don's back arching in pain. As he gasped for air Brad gave one last hard shove before standing up.
"That's enough, Bradley!" Nelson commanded disapprovingly, a father giving an errant son correction.
Still panting shallowly Don watched as Brad stepped away. Brad obviously finally felt that it was safe to leave him be, even tucking away his gun. That suited Don just fine; if being cuffed reduced future manhandling or more attacks then he could live with that. Besides which the carpet on the floor was not all that uncomfortable and he needed rest especially after the latest assault. As his breathing eased even as the pain in his back didn't, he took more notice of what was happening in the room.
Jack was tugging at his shirt having just completed a quick change of clothes. He grabbed a small bag and then the keys to the van and headed towards the door. "I'm going to ditch the van, then see Ramirez. I'll be back in about two hours."
"Don't give him any more than we agreed." Brad ordered, before locking the door behind him.
"Who is Ramirez?" Nelson demanded.
"He's going to get us out of LA. Here, I got you some new clothes. You'll need them in the morning." Brad held out another bag.
Nelson took the bag favouring his son with what Don considered an odd look. He opened the zip and had a quick look at the contents. "How are we getting out of here?"
"Ramirez has got a boat, we'll leave for Mexico early in the morning." His face split into a wide grin, he was obviously proud of himself. He opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of beer, handing one to the other man. "Dad, we did it!"
"Yeah, you did." Nelson made no move to open his can, placing it on the bench along with the bag.
"You still don't sound so happy."
"Don't get me wrong, son. I'm glad to be out of that place. I just don't like what you did to make that happen." He was returning to his interrupted argument from the parking lot.
"You still upset at that?" Brad waved his hand back at the agent.
Nelson looked down at Don for a moment. "Yes, that. And the robberies, and the killings. It all stops when we get to Mexico."
Brad shook his head, taking another pull on his beer. "We're gonna need money to live on, Dad."
"What have you done with all the money you've already stolen?"
"We had to pay some people off. Ramirez is also costing a packet. We're not gonna have much left when this is over."
"It doesn't matter, there's not going to be any more. I don't want anyone else to be hurt." He said firmly as he approached the agent. He looked back over his shoulder. "Have you got a first aid kit?"
"What?" Brad sounded confused as he watched his father crouch beside their hostage.
"I'm going to have a look at his arm, you started it bleeding again. Here, Agent, let me help you up."
Don was gently rolled to his side and with Nelson's help was lifted to a seated position, leaning back against the wall. Nelson turned to look back at his son and Don saw that Brad hadn't moved and was still staring at them.
"What do you care about his arm? He's lucky I haven't broken it yet. He's the one that got you locked up in that place and has only just started to get what's coming to him."
"Leave him be. You've done more than enough to him. Anyway, I got myself locked up, Brad." Nelson corrected. "I threatened him and put him in danger. He's the one that kept me alive when I handed myself in."
"If you'd left him in the airplane we wouldn't be here now."
"Probably not, but I'd have a dead agent on my conscience. Brad, do you have a kit or not? Jack usually carries one." Nelson's voice had sharpened and had the desired effect. His son finally moved, putting down his beer can. After a brief search in one of the larger bags in the room he came up with a small green bag that he all but shoved at his father.
Accepting the bag Nelson placed it on the floor beside him and started sorting through its contents. Brad watched for a moment before draining his beer. Next he angrily rummaged in another bag pulling out pieces of clothing before stamping around out of sight to get changed. From the reflection on the glass of a picture mounted on the wall Don saw the bathroom door swing almost closed. Brad would be able to hear what was going on and react quickly if something happened he didn't like.
"Let's get you patched up." Nelson said softly as he took to Don's left sleeve with a pair of scissors.
"Why?"
The sleeve was gone and the scissors put down in favour of a swab doused with antiseptic solution. He stopped for a moment staring at the agent. "What do you mean?"
"I mean why bother?" He clarified. He involuntarily twitched away and hissed briefly as the antiseptic solution stung when the swab moved over the wound. He leant forward slightly and dropped his voice in an attempt to keep his next words private. "If you don't get your son under control he's going to kill me."
There was no other way to put it. The callous way in which he'd been treated, the increasing violence in the face of his non-resistance had firmed that suspicion in his mind. It was all but confirmed now with Brad's comment that he'd only started to get what was coming to him. Why the young man hated him so much he couldn't understand but if Nelson didn't act, he was as good as dead as soon as his usefulness was over.
Nelson glanced over in the direction his son had gone. He also kept his voice low but continued working, reaching for a dressing then a bandage. "He's not going to kill anyone. When we get to this boat you're going free."
"Hunh." Don grunted, he'd had enough. "I've heard that too many times today. He'll probably tell you the Coast Guard's waiting and you'll still need me. I'll end up on that boat." That was just as certain as the next fact that he would never see Mexico.
Despite his earlier assurance that it wouldn't come to pass the expression on the older man's face showed that he'd already considered the possibility, both the spoken one and the unspoken one. Nelson resolutely finished taping off the end of the bandage so it would stay put. "I won't let that happen. If your people are on the ball we won't get that far anyway."
Another grunt. His 'people' were being hampered by the simple fact that he was still in the firing line. They had banked on Nelson's release from prison getting him clear but that hadn't happened and they would now be forced to work on a different means of ending this. He knew they would have been followed to this motel and forces would be marshalling nearby but the problem still remained, the offenders had a hostage and were prepared to shoot their way out of trouble. The book said that negotiation was the way to resolve the situation, but that hadn't exactly worked so far.
.