Child of My Heart

by 2headsRbetter

dHall & Alice I collaboration! Charlie made a promise to a friend. And when your heart is talking, it’s hard to say no. UPDATED!

11. In Regret of One's Mistakes

Chapter Eleven: In Regret of One's Mistakes

When Alan walked into the garage, he found Don standing in front of one of the blackboards staring at the mass of mathematical expressions there as if he were trying to derive some complex meaning from them. He was lost in his own thoughts, but he seemed less vexed than he had been and Alan was glad he had followed his parental instincts and gave Don some time to himself to come to terms with his emotions. For a few minutes, as he sat alone in the kitchen thinking about the funeral and the days that followed, Alan wondered if he'd been right to leave Don alone. In his three months away, his eldest son had obviously been through some exceedingly painful experiences himself. He didn't want Don to feel that he was alone, or had been abandoned, due to his current temperament. Deciding fifteen minutes was long enough; Alan followed Don into the garage. Now, seeing him standing there looking at those blackboards, it struck Alan how similar his boys appeared sometimes. He had just seen Charlie yesterday in that same spot, staring, with the same intensity, at those boards.

"Sometimes I can stare at Charlie's work for hours and never know what it is I'm supposed to be looking at."

"It's a probability equation." Don answered, without turning around and Alan raised his eyebrows as he walked up behind him.

"How do you know that?"

Don shrugged his shoulders.
"I've seen enough of them by now, I guess."

The garage grew silent and Alan watched the movement of Don's shoulders as he inhaled and exhaled with conscious precision.
"What are you thinking about, Donnie?"

Don turned to face his father and Alan could see sadness in his older son's eyes that had not been there before or at least it hadn't been obvious underneath the other emotions of shock, fear and anger.
"I was thinking about you and Charlie... mostly Charlie, actually. Dad, please don't misunderstand me when I say this. Okay?"

Don hesitated, and Alan stepped over to him and wrapped his arm around his eldest shoulders.
"I can't promise I won't misunderstand, but I will certainly give you time to clarify. Whatever you need to say, Donnie, just go ahead and say it. You should know by now that my love for my sons isn't contingent on being in constant agreement with them."

Struck by his father's aberrant inclination toward physical reassurance, Don allowed the embrace to continue for several seconds before stepping away and turning back to the blackboard. He stood with his back to his father for a moment before he found his voice.
"Charlie isn't the only one who felt forsaken."

Don's words were muttered in such a quiet tone, that it almost seemed as if he were talking to himself, then he cleared his throat and continued.
"When you told me that Charlie felt like….well, that he kind of felt as if I'd deserted him and then he felt guilty for feeling that way……The minute you said it, I completely understood. There were so many times over the last three months... the last three weeks were the worst….and….."

His voice grew quieter as he spoke until; once again, Don was almost speaking in a whisper.
"I….I guess I just missed him so….….so much that it hurt sometimes…..and I'd think about home, and how safe it was here, and I'd be so grateful that he was out of harm's way, at home, safe and with you….not a care in the world, really. And then I'd find myself angry….at him…."
Don turned and fixed his eyes on his father.
"…at Charlie! I was angry at him! Can you believe that? I kept thinking that he was here with his cushy job and a safe place to sleep and whatever he wanted to eat, whenever he wanted to eat it…and…….."

Turning away again, Don walked across the room to look out the window.
"After a while, the hunger and … The other things happening started to get to me. I was…..feeling so... I don't know maybe a little jealous, but then I'd be plagued with guilt for feeling that way….and then, I'd just try not to think about it. I tried to focus on the job but I just….everything I did, I kept thinking of Charlie. I really missed him. That doesn't mean that I didn't miss you too, Dad….it's just that Charlie and I have become…I don't know how to say it exactly….but there are times when we can look at each other and say things without saying them. With just a look, I know what he's thinking and he can see me too….really see me, Dad. No one has ever been able to connect with me like that before… Hell, I never thought anyone would, much less my brother. But we've spent so much time working together and now….."

Turning from the window, Don wandered over to the couch. He sank down into it heavily and sighed.
"Damn it. I just never expected to miss him that badly. And now I'm finding out what he's been through, what he's endured and I'm….."

When Don stopped speaking, Alan approached the couch.
"What is it, Donnie?"

Don looked up at his father and there was an undefined fear mixed with the sadness that was reflected in his eyes.
"What if we've lost that, Dad? I'd just gotten so used to his…..you know, just having him around…to talk to, to be that instant friend when I need one. The last three months have been life changing for both of us and through this whole mess we didn't have each other to go to and what if….. What if... we don't really need each other anymore?"

As Don clasped his hands together in his lap, Alan noticed again how rough and scarred his skin had become in such a short time. Sitting down on the couch, he smiled and put his hand on his son's back.
"You and your brother have forged a bond that is not easily broken. I know it hasn't always been that way for the two of you, but that doesn't make it any less enduring. Three months and some bad experiences cannot shatter what you have with your brother. The kind of connection that you are describing is strong enough to withstand a far greater test than trauma and separation. These bonds form between people and they last a lifetime. Those are the ties that make a family, Donnie."

"God, I hope you're right. I guess I'm just a little nervous about talking to him. I'm not so good with….you know…..spilling my guts or talking about how I feel."

Don's candid confession to his lack of emotional aptitude hung in the air for a moment and he lifted his eyes, waiting for his father to respond. He was surprised to see Alan grinning at him.
"You…afraid to talk about your feelings? No."

The mock surprise in his father's voice brought a smile to Don's face and he shook his head as he chuckled.
"Hey…I'm not that bad!"

"No, I suppose not. But your brother is going to want to…..."

Alan's discourse was interrupted when Don suddenly jerked his head around and pulled himself to his feet in one swift movement. From behind the couch, a rustling noise clued him in on what had prompted Don's sudden motion and Alan turned toward the door. Despite Megan's warm smile, Don's relaxed expression of a few moments ago had vanished.

"Don. It's good to have you back."

Alan immediately got up and walked around the couch, greeting Megan affectionately with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Don, however, remained stock-still and stared at her with an ambiguous combination of emotions playing across his features. The sudden change in Don's demeanor was disconcerting, and Alan's instinct was to scold him for his hostile greeting. When he turned to face his son, the way that Don was holding his shoulders made him reconsider. Keeping his mouth shut, Alan stepped aside. Megan gave him a cordial nod, holding her smile as she raised her eyebrows at Don. At first, Don opened his mouth as if to speak but seemed to think better of it and clamped it shut again.

"I know how you must be feeling right now."

That comment loosened his tongue and Don found his voice; a cold steely voice that sent chills down Alan's spine.
"Oh, I doubt very much that you have the slightest idea what I am feeling right now, Agent Reeves."

Megan walked over to the couch, took a seat, and waited; hoping Don would do the same. She wanted him to hear her words and in the state he was in, there wasn't much chance of that. After an early morning phone call from Assistant Director Merrick, she had prepared herself for a frosty reception, even outright hostility and Don didn't disappoint. He was glaring at her with his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Again, she raised her eyebrows in an attempt to induce conversation but Don only took a deep breath and turned away from her. He commenced pacing the garage like a caged lion and the tension that began building in the room was tangible. Megan decided to remain silent and allow Don to initiate any confrontation but as she watched him walk back and forth, she felt her nerve slipping. It only took him a few moments to collect his thoughts enough to verbalize them and although Megan had schooled herself carefully, when Don spun around to face her, the anger in his eyes was such that she found it difficult not to flinch.

"Why?"

Rather than try to answer him at that moment, Megan forced herself to remain reticent and waited for him to continue.

"Was a potential conviction for Valdario so important that no one thought I needed to know when my brother was almost killed? No one considered it a priority to inform me that Charlie had to endure the indignity of not one, but two psychological reviews because he survived a horrific trauma. No one thought to mention that while I was away my family struggled with death, emotional trauma and the prospect of caring for the infant child of a dead friend."

All of the anger and frustration that had been hounding him all morning was finally coming out. At last, he had someone to direct it toward and he was going to vent it all whether it was fair or deserved. Don took several gaping steps toward her, but Megan made no effort to circumnavigate his angry advance. Instead, she remained quietly seated and perfectly composed as she listened to him rant. She took in his gaunt appearance, the deep circles under his eyes; she noted the abused skin on his hands and arms. Don began to pace again while he bellowed at her and Megan noticed a slight limp in his left leg when he pivoted and put all of his weight on that foot. She wasn't shocked by what she saw; after all, she had read the debriefing notes about his time in Colombia. More than anything, she was surprised he looked as good as he did and had to resist saying so as he continued speaking.

"I've been back in Los Angeles for almost two full days. I've been in and out of various FBI offices, virtually surrounded by my well-informed colleagues, including our very own Agent Granger, and yet no one…..NO ONE felt the need to tell me what I was going to be walking into when I got home? I don't know about you, Reeves, but I think I've done my part. I happen to think I've earned a few answers here and I expect to get them!"

Megan nodded unconsciously in agreement to Don's statement. What Don had 'earned' was hardly in question. They had discovered early in the investigation that Valdario acquired most of his menial laborers as an alternative means of debt collection. When cash payments could not be made, he allowed his debtors to work off what they owed. Sometimes the individual who owed him money would work off the debt, but more often than not Valdario would choose a family member to work off the debt for them. The reputation of the Valdario cartel left little question as to the means and ease of this kind of repayment, yet Don had still been willing to subject himself to such treatment. At the time, the prospect of obtaining evidence against Valdario was more important than anything else...…even to Don. When one of Valdario's coyotes mistook Don for one of their runners, the FBI had jumped on the opportunity to make a deal that would get someone into the compound, even as slave labor. Most agents wouldn't have been able to cope with the continued physical abuse and starvation tactics that Valdario used on the men and women that were brought to him under these circumstances. Yet, Don had not only persevered, he had managed to infiltrate the estate and collect the evidence that they needed to throw Valdario and most of his associates behind bars for the rest of their lives.

"Well! What's it gonna be, Reeves?"

Don's question pulled Megan out of her thoughts and she lifted her eyes to look at her boss as he completed his ultimatum.
"You have five seconds to start answering my questions, or so help me God; there will be hell to pay!"

Megan tried to keep her expression nonplussed as she nodded at him.
"So, are you finished, then?"

Perceiving Megan's comment to be crassly patronizing, Don released his anger and frustration in a violent fury smashing his fist into the wood pillar next to him.

The smack of bone and flesh slamming into the timber reverberated throughout the room followed by a sharp intake of breathe from Alan. Don hadn't even noticed that he had split his knuckles open as he took a menacing step forward.
"NO! I am not finished. I'm not even getting started!"

Despite her empathetic feelings toward Don and the circumstances of his situation, Megan found herself angered by his uncontrolled display and she shook her head.
"Then I can wait until you're done."

"The hell you can! I want answers, Agent, and your five seconds are up."

Alan had remained standing just behind the couch and from his vantage point, he could see the blood openly running from Don's hand and dripping to the floor. As badly as he wanted to rush to his aid, Alan found himself completely entranced by his son's rage…and more than a little frightened by it. Megan, however, seemed unaffected by the spectacle and he couldn't believe that she was just sitting there while his son, looking more like a deranged escapee than a federal agent, towered over her filled with enough hostility to alarm the most courageous of hearts. Rather than cower from him, she sat back against the cushions of the couch and crossed her legs in a nonchalant gesture.

Despite the fact that she had the training to take him down, Megan found herself unwilling to engage in a physical confrontation with Don. But she was also unwilling to continue the conversation until he came to his senses. Laying her arm across the back of the couch, Megan took a deep breath. Regarding Don with a calm demeanor, she raised her wrist and pointed at his bleeding hand.
"I am more than willing to tell you what you need to know, Don Eppes. But I will not have this discussion with you until you calm yourself down."

Then almost as an afterthought, she added, "And go clean yourself up. You're bleeding all over Charlie's rug."

The silence held the room for several seconds while she waited for Don's response. When there was none, Megan sat up again and put both feet flat on the floor.
"Go clean up your hand, Don. Then if you can come back here and listen to what I have to say without breaking anything else, I'll give you your answers. If those terms are unacceptable to you, then I guess I should leave."

She made a move to get up and Don stepped back from her, holding his hands up in a gesture for her to stop.
"Leave? No, you can't leave! Megan….I…"

As she pulled herself to her feet, Don looked into Megan's eyes and he knew without a doubt that if he didn't rein in his emotions that was exactly what she would do. He wanted to keep his rage alive, but at the same time, he knew he was being unfair. This shouldn't all be put on her shoulders, and from what his father had told him, things would have turned out far worse for Charlie had it not been for Megan. Taking a deep breath, Don forced the anger and frustration back down.

"Look, I'm angry…okay? I should have been here for my family. Someone should have told me what was going on back home."

Don's shoulders slumped slightly. Megan had not relaxed her stance and he was starting to wonder if he had gone too far.
"I'm sorry… I… Please… I'm…I'm just so damn angry."

Megan lowered herself back down to the edge of the couch and looked closely at Don.
"You have every right to be angry, Don. But you also don't have all the facts. One of the reasons that I'm here is to provide you with those facts. Seriously, though, you have to go clean yourself up. I can't talk to you when you're bleeding all over the place."

Don looked down at his hand as if just noticing the self-inflicted injury. From the look in Megan's eyes, he could see that she was not going to yield. Sighing heavily, Don turned away from her and marched through the door and into the house. Casting an apologetic look at Megan, Alan hesitantly followed his son.

When they returned to the garage, Megan was off the couch and pacing in front of one of Charlie's many blackboards. Don's right hand was now tightly wrapped, a white gauze bandage covering his knuckles. His eyes still held a steely glare, but he quietly crossed the room and placidly took a seat on the couch. Alan looked to Megan as if for instruction and Don's eyes narrowed as she indicated to his father that he should also sit. It was apparent that Megan had decided to remain standing and she wasted no time getting started.

"Colby wanted to talk to you on the trip back to the states, Don, but he was ordered not to."

"Ordered not to?"

"Yes, at least not until after your debriefing."

Don opened his mouth again to voice his disapproval, but Megan put her hand out to stop him.
"I happened to agree with that, Don. As a matter of fact, I suggested it."

Don nearly launched himself off the couch at this statement, his efforts to remain calm quickly forgotten, but his father laid a firm hand on his arm. Megan appeared unruffled in spite of Don's near outburst and she approached the couch looking cool and composed.
"Don, at that point there was nothing you could have done."

Trying to keep her tone reassuring, Megan carefully positioned herself in front of the two men so she was essentially standing over them.
"You were already on your way home. Having this hanging over you would have adversely affected your ability to relay all of the facts and events of your assignment."

Megan made it clear through her voice and body language that she was in charge of this 'interview'. There was nothing threatening in her stance, but the authority and strength that she radiated was daunting. If Don hadn't been so exhausted, both mentally and physically, he would have instantly recognized the tactic. It was one of the most common interrogation techniques in the book, and he had used it himself on countless occasions.

"There are several reasons why the situation with Charlie, as well as other factors of this operation, were not covered during your debriefing. We thought it pertinent that we not divulge any personal information during the official debriefing because of the multiple agencies that were sitting in. There are also Colombian governmental officials who will be receiving copies of the transcripts from those meetings once we have Valdario in custody."

At this statement, Don went rigid as he looked up at Megan analytically. His confusion was evident, but Megan chose to ignore his unspoken question and plunged ahead.
"The fact remains that this is far from over. There are agents at risk from other organizations now. Using the information that you provided, at least two vice cops from the LAPD have worked their way into the Los Angeles branch of the cartel and there is no telling what's in the works that we aren't privy too yet. We could blow the whole case...or lose our key witnesses by revealing too much in front of someone we don't completely trust... and spilling personal, family information about the federal agent who gave us the means to take down this organization didn't seem like a very good plan. Colby had every intention of speaking to you privately and off the record, but when he got back, you were already gone."

Don knew he couldn't argue with this and he felt his anger toward Colby start to slip away. After his stealthy extraction from the Valdario compound and during the plane ride to L.A., Colby had remained uncharacteristically silent. Other than a friendly greeting and the pronouncement that he looked terrible, his fellow agent had hardly said two words to him. Once they had arrived at headquarters, Colby had brought him some clean clothes as well as the keys to his SUV, which was parked in the FBI garage. Before he left, Colby told him that he had some stuff to talk to him about but it would have to wait. Besides that, Megan was more right than he was willing to admit. The only thought in his mind after the debriefing had concluded was 'home'. Nothing else seemed quite as important as that. He hadn't even asked when Valdario's plane was landing at LAX or who was leading the squad that would execute the warrant.

In an attempt to maintain his sense of righteous indignation, Don rose to his feet forcing Megan to take a step back.
"Well, what about Merrick?"

"What about him?"

"I saw him when I first got there. He could have said something...anything."

Megan crossed her arms in front of her and returned his steady glare.
"And how many people were flanking you guys?"

It was a simple question but it stopped Don dead in his tracks. He didn't want to admit that there was no one to blame for his ignorance of his family's situation. He wanted to be angry about this; no, he needed to be angry. The anger was the only thing he had found to mask the guilt that wouldn't surrender its hold over him.

"Don, you know full well it would have been out of order for Merrick to pull you aside before the debriefing. When was the next time you saw him?"

Megan cocked an eyebrow at him and waited. For almost a full minute, Don held her gaze but he was forced to look away and he hung his head in surrender. She had made her point and he had no choice but to admit that she was right. Alan on the other hand was lost when the palpable tension in his son's body drained away and Don's shoulders went limp. He knew that something had been non-verbally communicated between the agents but he didn't know what.

"Donnie? What happened between you and the Assistant Director?"

Don lifted his head to look into his father's concerned face. The anger that had only moments ago blazed in Don's eyes was completely gone. In its place, he could see a blatant culpability. But what his son was holding himself accountable for, Alan could only guess. When Don spoke, his voice was soft and filled with so much self-condemnation that Alan instantly felt an upsurge in his paternal desire to protect his child from whatever was causing this pain.

"I didn't think that he….the debriefing ended up getting pretty intense and..."

Alan opened his mouth to say something but Don cut him off.
"I don't want to get into details now, Dad. I just felt like a freak at the circus by the time they were done with me. So after my last interview, I personally delivered my official report to Merrick."

"Did you quit your job, Donnie?"

With a burst of raucous laughter, Don plopped back down on the couch next to his startled father.
"No. God, no, nothing that elaborate."

He paused to glance up at the woman standing in front of him.
"Maybe I should have…..but he may end up firing me anyway and I really don't care."

At Alan's confused frown Don elaborated on that last statement.
"You see, I told him that we were both stupid and irresponsible to think that a field agent like me could have handled this kind of assignment…I wasn't trained for….I may have agreed…hell, I practically volunteered. But this never should have happened. It told him that the next time they needed someone to take on an assignment like this, to look somewhere else and I turned my back on him and walked out. I never even gave him a chance to say anything."

Megan had met Don's gaze and for a moment, they stared at each other while Alan looked back and forth between the two of them.
"I'm an asshole, Megan."

With a placid smile, Megan shook her head.

"Maybe so, but Merrick read the same report as I did and I'm sure he understood the basis for your outburst."

Don ran his hand over his face and through his hair. Leaning back onto the couch, he turned his head to look at his father.
"This really is my fault. Here I am ready to rip everyone apart for not telling me what you and Charlie have been through, but I never gave anyone the opportunity to tell me."

Hearing the self-recrimination in Don's voice, seeing the look of guilt and shame shining in his eyes along with the crushing fatigue that had been there all morning was too much for Alan. He had kept his mouth shut from the minute Megan walked through that door. He had managed to contain his own assessment of the situation while he helped Don bandage his busted knuckles. This, however, was too much and it was time to interject.

"Donnie, I couldn't possibly have a lucrative understanding of your anger. You've certainly piqued my curiosity, but you haven't really told me anything that happened to you down there."

"Dad, I..."

Shifting his eyes to the floor, Don started to speak but Alan cut him off.
"...and I don't expect you to. Not yet...not until you're ready. Megan obviously has details that I don't have, but from what I've heard here...and from what I've seen in your eyes, I do know that you are exhausted beyond reason. You aren't seeing things clearly. You're not at fault for what happened to your brother and you are not at fault for what happened to you."

Don turned his head to look at his father, fully intending to break in, but Alan quickly continued.
"And neither is Megan...or Colby, or A.D. Merrick. You were doing your job...and so were they. Would knowing about all of this change anything? Three months ago, nothing I could have said would have changed your mind about that assignment."

"But if I had known..."

Megan finally relinquished her position of authority and lowered herself onto the couch next to Alan.
"You're a good agent, Don...the best. But you're not psychic."

"She's right, Donnie."
Nodding his head in agreement, Alan turned to look from Megan to his son.
"There is no reason for you to blame yourself and once you get some rest you'll be able to see that. After all, it's not as if they had any way to get the news about what had happened to Charlie down there to you. Isn't that right, Megan?"

Don allowed the oppressive weight of guilt to lift from his shoulders again as he looked over at Megan. Just as he expected, she did not answer his father's question. Instead, she stood and walked across the room to the small desk in the corner. Alan glanced toward his son to ask the same question silently but Don only shrugged his shoulders as he shook his head and turned his attention back to Megan. The silence that filled the room left Alan with few reservations as to the answer. Still, he repeated the question.
"Megan? There wasn't any way to contact Don before this assignment was over, was there?"

When she turned to look at him, Megan found herself unable to look the Eppes patriarch in the eye. She shifted her eyes to Don, fully expecting another outburst, but this time he remained seated. She was aware that Don already knew what her answer would be, that was half the reason he harbored so much resentment against them for leaving him in the dark. But she had told him he did not have all the facts and this was where things got complicated. With a deep sigh, Megan perched herself on the edge of the desk.

"Merrick wanted to contact you."

Don sniggered and leaned back into the couch, glaring at her.
"Sure he did."

"Yes, Don, he did. Charlie's access to highly classified information made his psychological assessment agency business. Merrick was the first one to get a copy of the report on the incident. He thought our evidence against Valdario, at that point, was sufficient and he set up a meeting that same day with the Area Director as well as the head of the DEA. But they disregarded his recommendation that the operation be terminated and his request to pull you out was denied."

Don remained seated, tilting his head at her suspiciously. Alan, however, was on his feet in an instant.
"What? Megan, why wouldn't you tell me about this?"

"There was nothing to tell you. This was out of our hands."
She gave him a forthright, appealing look.
"You have to understand, Alan, the DEA…the FBI...the office of Homeland Security... None of these organizations had ever been able to get a man on the inside of the Valdario cartel. The details are still classified, but I think it's safe to tell you that it was just a stroke of luck when Don bagged one of Valdario's smugglers, a coyote, who was willing to roll on his boss to avoid a prison sentence. We knew it was risky sending that guy back to Colombia to operate as a mole, but that wasn't something we could pass on. Not if it meant getting our man on the inside."

She paused to look at Don as if she expected him to challenge her next statement.
"I know you felt the same way, Don. You took the assignment."

When he discreetly nodded his head in agreement, she turned back to Alan and continued.
"Don got in... and he was the only and best chance of getting what we needed to bring that cartel down. I'm not trying to be intentionally tactless, Alan, but Charlie's injuries were marginal when compared with the risk of shutting down our efforts to nail this guy just so Don could be around for moral support."

Don pressed his lips together as he listened to Megan's dissertation. He could see the calculated logic of her argument, but that didn't change the fact that he was angry that the decision had been made for him. He would have been the first one to admit that they had probably made the right choice and he was not entirely sure that he would have abandoned his position had he been told that Charlie was safe and not in any further danger. He had accepted the assignment for a reason, and he was loath to fail in it, but he still felt that the choice should have been his.

Alan had crossed his arms and was looking skeptical as Megan continued.
"You saw Merrick at the funeral, Alan, as well as the burial service. He'd seen enough of Don's interactions with his family to know that this would be important to him. Walt made a decision at that point that I was not made aware of."

Don widened his eyes and leaned forward on the couch, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.
"Walt? And I thought I was the only guy at the office you were on a first name basis with."

Shifting her eyes at him and forcing a disparaging smile, Megan continued.
"Assistant Director Merrick, who worked closely with your team during your absence, thought the choice should have been yours. He didn't share this with me until almost a week later, but he decided to try to contact you anyway, Don. He arranged for a message to be waiting at the usual location for your information drop, only no one ever showed up."

Don jerked his head up to stare at her, any trace of amusement vanished from his face and he and Alan spoke at the same time.
"What?"
"Megan, what are you saying?"

You could have knocked either of the Eppes men over with a feather at that point; but for very different reasons and it was Don who demanded an answer first.

"You are seriously telling me that our Assistant Director, Walter Merrick, risked his job, his career, by going against a direct order from the Area Director? Not only that, but he went against the wishes of God knows how many government organizations just to contact me about my family? Are we talking about the same person, here?"

Their Assistant Director had always been a bit of a hard ass and he and Don had butted heads more than a few times in the past. Still, Don's reaction to the news that Merrick actually possessed an ounce of human compassion after all, almost made Megan laugh.

"Yes, Don. The very same AD Merrick who stepped away from conformity and took a chance when you came to him with this wild idea of using a mathematician to help find a serial rapist, the same guy who pulled the strings it took to get Ian Edgerton down here when you requested him for the sniper case. This very same Merrick who actually listened to your recommendation that a fellow agent be given a second chance after withholding vital information because he felt loyalty to a man who had once saved his life. I know it's hard to believe, but yes, we are actually talking about the same man."

Don shook his head in disbelief. He knew this meant he would have to have a talk to Walter Merrick and apologize for his unfair assumptions about the man's motivations. He should have given him a chance to speak before he jumped to any conclusions. But more than that, he suddenly realized how few questions he had been allowed to ask during his debriefing. It had occurred to him that everything that had happened on the home front coincided almost perfectly with the proceedings that had changed his existence at the compound. He had reported the events with an intricate detail that he did not wish to repeat…not to Megan, not to his father, and certainly not to Charlie. But the missing pieces of his puzzle were falling into place, and Don suddenly needed to ask a question and he hoped Megan would know the answer.

"Carlito?"

Don may have been exhausted and not up to his usual deductive ability, but it was obvious from Megan's expression and the subtle lift of her shoulders that Carlito's whereabouts were a mystery. It had been about a month ago when the man who had been their mole inside the cartel, who had arranged for an undercover agent to infiltrate the compound, Carlito Estrada, had disappeared. Don had been forced to assume that the man's treachery had been discovered and he had either run or been killed. But before he had been able to relay any information to his handler or take any action to secure his own safety, something inside the compound changed; he and all of the other 'gringos' were moved, without warning, from their usual quarters into the estate itself. That was when the beatings had started. The buzz among the rest of the imported laborers told Don that his cover had gone from rock solid to downright diaphanous. They knew there was a spy amongst them…they just didn't know who. They started keeping all of the American workers indoors and away from the fields. Over the next two weeks, their already meager rations were cut so drastically that every imported laborer in the compound began showing signs of malnutrition. At that point, they began locking the 'gringos' up every night in the wine cellar. Each day would begin with a one-on-one session with two of Valdario's personal guards and each day ended the same way. They tried to pit them against each other by telling them that if the spy were revealed, they could go back to the fields and regular rations. At one point, they offered a one-way ticket home, no strings attached, to whoever gave them the name of the man who was delivering information about the cartel to the United States government. Things got worse before they got better and sitting here, now, in his brother's garage, Don knew he was damn lucky that he wasn't one of the men buried in the garden at the Valdario estate. And after what happened with Daniel….but he couldn't think about that right now.

Turning his concentration back to the here and now, Don blocked out the montage of images, sounds and sensations that flooded his mind along with the memories of those last few weeks. According to the timeline, as Don understood it, Carlito had vamoosed around the same time that Merrick had opted to ignore the orders not to contact him. Now Don desperately wanted to know if Carlito had received that message. If their turncoat had believed the operation was going to be scraped and his deal would be null and void, there was a strong possibility that Carlito had fled Colombia on his own accord. That was certainly a better scenario that the alternative…at least for Carlito.

Don lifted his head to ask Megan if they had a BOLO out for Carlito Estrada on the off chance that he had returned to Los Angeles, but his father didn't let him get that far.

"I want to know what you meant when you said 'no one ever showed up'."

Alan had leaned forward on the couch and he turned to look from Megan to his son. The look on Don's face was one of sudden realization but when he saw his father looking at him inquisitively, he turned his face away.

"Things got crazy in there, Dad."

Don stared at the floor for a minute and then lifted his head to look at his father.

"About four weeks ago, the man… our contact disappeared. They started...the guards at the compound were watching everyone closely and I had to assume that my cover had been blown, or was in jeopardy. I couldn't risk trying to meet my handler for the drop and without Car…."

He stopped and turned to look at Megan. With a subtle nod, she agreed that Alan didn't need to know the details about the operation and Don continued.

"Without our contact, I had no way to let anyone know what was going on. It's called 'going dark'. All the Bureau would have known was that I was no longer operating under the normal parameters of the assignment. Something had changed and they had no way of knowing what since I was the only agent operating that closely to the cartel. I wasn't on the grounds anymore, so the spotters couldn't see me. They kept us locked up in the estate most of the time after that and as far as the spotters could tell, I was just gone."

Alan turned to look at Don and furrowed his brow, shaking his head in disbelief.

"They kept you locked up?"

Don met his father's gaze for a moment but quickly looked away. His eyes became troubled... haunted and this change in Don's expression was not lost on Alan. Something had happened to his son at this point. This was when things must have gotten bad. Don had sidestepped talking about what had happened to him down there since he got home this morning and Alan suspected that it was this period of time that was bothering him so much. He turned his head back to look at Megan, saw the sympathy in her face directed at Don, and he knew. His boy had been hurt while he was in Colombia, maybe even tortured.

"Why wasn't I told, Megan? Don is my son. I had a right to know what was happening to him."

The hurt and betrayed look in the older man's eyes cut into Megan's heart and she shook her head sympathetically.

"Alan, I couldn't say anything to you."

"I should have been told."

"I'm not saying I disagree, but Alan, I couldn't tell you. This was a classified operation."

"He's my son..."

Megan clasped her hands in front of her and continued.

"On top of that, we really didn't know what had happened. We knew we hadn't heard from him and we knew no one had spotted him, but we didn't know what Don's status was. The other considerations, for me, even if I went against policy and told you what I knew...well, think about what you and Charlie had been facing. Alan, do you really believe that I, or anyone else on the team, would have come to you at that point with the information that Don may or may not be in trouble and that we may or may not have lost our contact that was supposed to be keeping him safe? Charlie, and I think you too, were in no condition to hear that. Without solid facts to back up why Don had left our radar...I just wasn't prepared to drop that into your laps."

When Alan turned to face her, Megan could see a familiar fire in his eyes and she was struck by how much Don looked like his father when he was angry.

"Look, Megan, I understand what 'classified' means. I do. Nevertheless, if my son was missing, I should have been told about it, classified or not. Maybe Charlie didn't need the extra burden, but Don is my child. He is my son and I would have wanted to know that something had happened...that he was in danger...that he could have been..."

Megan opened her mouth to reply, but Alan cut her off.

"No! I don't want excuses. I don't want to be told that it is classified! What I do want from you, right now, are all the facts. Don is home...we know he's safe now. There's little chance that I might leak information about the investigation and no foreign official is going to see a transcript of this conversation. I want you to tell me exactly what happened! I'm assuming the Bureau made some effort to find out what had happened to Don?"

Megan looked reluctantly at Alan. She knew there was no way to sugar coat the information that he was asking for. Her instinct told her that he didn't need all of the details, but as she turned to look at Don, Megan could see the same questions in his eyes. Putting her better judgment aside, she swept her arm out toward the couch to indicate that they should both take a seat.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

3 Weeks Ago

……………………………………………………………………………………………

The calendar may have said Thursday, but it felt like a Monday morning as Megan made her way into the office. She had stopped by the house to check on Alan, Charlie and the baby and she was pleasantly surprised by how quickly Charlie seemed to be recovering from the traumatic events of the past week. He was doing much better since the funeral, but he was still fighting the depression that commonly follows the loss of a loved one. Whenever it seemed to be getting the better of him, the one thing that truly seemed to ground him was Adam. Megan had asked him about this and the reply she got was one she would remember for a long time.

"After getting to know Adam...and Emily too, I have come to the conclusion that children are the universe's great equalizers. They have a unique ability, intrinsic to their natures, that brings everything into perspective. I mean, when everything that could possibly go wrong in the course of a single day does, it all seems so trivial next to the unencumbered love of a child."

As she walked into the bullpen, she realized how much later it was than when she customarily got to the office. Both Colby and David were already at their desks deep in conversation about one of their current cases. They both nodded to her in greeting and she listened to them talking while she put her things away. The case in question involved several occurrences of bank fraud that had the Bureau stumped and Colby was griping about their new math consultant.

"I'm tellin' ya, the whiz kid would have had this thing packed, wrapped and shipped by last week. Man, I miss having him around."

Megan sat at her desk and looked over at Colby as he pouted over the large pile of files related to the case.

"Listen to you complaining, Granger. What did you do in the days before we used mathematicians as consultants?"

David snorted as he pulled himself to his feet and walked around his cubical to Megan's desk.

"Our friend here is spoiled. Charlie was already a part of the team when he came on board….but you have to admit, he is right. This guy is no Charlie."

David indicated the glassed off workspace that Charlie normally occupied. It seemed wrong to see some lesser mathematician writing on his boards, using his space, working with his team. The man standing at the translucent dry erase board had done a fair amount of grumping about the materials he was 'forced' to work with. He hated the clear board. He said it made it hard for him to concentrate. But he had already covered the two white boards with his tiny, meticulous script and he had had no choice but to move on to Charlie's preferred medium.

The short list of local mathematicians with the experience and government clearance to work on a case like this was indeed a very short list. Dr. Thaddeus Kiminski was a high-level mathematician from the University of Southern California. He was a middle-aged man with short brown hair, a bland expression on his face and horn rimed glasses. He wore a tweed sport coat with patches on the elbows, a dark gray sweater vest over a plain white shirt and baggy khaki colored slacks. The only thing missing was the bow tie and a personality.

Smiling at the wistful look on the faces of her colleagues, Megan stood and walked over to David's desk where she could get a better look at the man across the hall.

"He may not be Charlie, but he's certainly got the credentials to figure this one out."

David turned and gave her a bleak frown.

"You haven't had the pleasure of working with him yet, Megan.

Nodding in agreement, Colby crossed the floor and stopped next to them.

"This guy has the disposition of a wet string mop."

"He's slow as hell."

David's smile started to bleed through as he continued.

"And he hasn't stopped complaining since we brought him in on this."

"And he doesn't do those little….analogy thingies that Charlie does so we understand what the hell he's talking about."

Megan nodded empathetically at Colby's complaint. Half the reason why Charlie's services were so widely requested among government agencies was his innate ability to treat everyone; even a room full of short-tempered federal agents, like a group of tyronic students. He made things make sense. She knew where they were going with this and

Megan shook her head as she scowled at them chidingly.

"Stop your moaning. You know there's no way I'm asking Charlie to come in here and work on this. He just needs a little more time, guys."

The three agents turned to look at the pseudo Charlie in the center of the bullpen one more time, then turned and headed back across the floor. Colby stopped at Megan's desk and crossed his arms.

"Speaking of which, how's our boy holding up?"

Megan sat back in her chair and looked up at her partners.

"He's actually doing much better than I had thought he would."

"Man, I'll tell ya, if I'd seen that tree fall on those people… I mean it was pretty bad when they pulled Becky Burdick out of that car. They were just doing that when David and I got there. I've seen some ugly things in combat but this was… Lets just say that what Charlie saw was easily as bad as anything I have ever seen in the field."

David nodded in agreement.

"What got me was that little girl. I don't know, Megan. How can Charlie be okay after that? Hell, I'm still trying to figure out how he survived it at all. The house was smashed all to hell and he was inside when that thing came through the roof, and in the living room no less. We got a real good look at the place and the room that Charlie was in was utterly destroyed; it's really a miracle that he made it out of that house in one piece."

Megan picked up one of the files on her desk and started to thumb through it.

"Charlie is a lot tougher than anyone realized. He's going to be just fine. He's got all the support he needs."

"Not really."

Colby spoke under his breath, but Megan heard him all the same. She was going to respond when her phone rang.

"Reeves…

Yes sir, I'll be right there."

She pulled herself to her feet and handed the file to Colby.

"Doctor Kiminski may not be as fast as Charlie and he may bore the hell out of you, Granger. But we still have to get through this work load so let's pretend like it's the olden days when we didn't have annoying mathematicians making our lives easier and just get it done."

With that, she turned and headed for Walter Merrick's office.

As she approached the office of the Assistant Director, a sense of dread started to grow in the pit of Megan's stomach. She suddenly had an unpleasant feeling that she was about to be told that her team leader wasn't coming home. The grave look on the AD's face when she stepped into the room only served to increase her concern. Without a word, he rose to his feet and nodded for her to close the door behind her. Once the door was closed, she didn't wait for him to offer her a seat or to initiate the conversation.

"What's happening with Don?"

Working closely with Merrick for the past few months had created a certain casual repartee between the two of them, but today, he didn't even smile.

"The spotters haven't seen Agent Eppes in just over a week and Carlito Estrada is nowhere to be found."

Megan felt her heart drop.

"That slippery little bastard."

Taking two steps forward, she leaned over Merrick's desk.

"I knew that wasn't going to be enough incentive to keep Estrada from turning on us."

"We don't think he rolled, Reeves."

Giving her a sympathetic look, he sat down heavily and leaned back in his chair.

"The last time either one of them were seen was last Wednesday when the laborers left their quarters."

"The day after the funeral?"

He nodded solemnly and continued.

"What I am about to tell you has to be kept between us, at least for the time being. Do you understand?"

Megan hesitantly nodded her understanding and lowered herself into the black vinyl chair opposite Merrick's desk as he continued.

"After seeing Professor Eppes at the funeral, seeing how much that accident affected him…the look in his eyes… I know how Agent Eppes feels about his family. Hell, they're the reason he gave up running his own office in Albuquerque. So I… He's been making me look good for years and I owe him…. Look Reeves, this isn't something…"

Narrowing her eyes at him, Megan leaned forward in her chair.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I may have made a mistake that could cost me my career and I wanted you to know in case the Area Director….."

She regarded him with suspicion.

"What did you do?"

"I tried to contact Carlito and get a message to Agent Eppes about what was going on with his brother."

Megan's eyes opened wide with shock. That was the absolute last thing she had expected him to say. Walter Merrick had always played by the book. He obeyed all the rules and he was the one who was the division watchdog for the Area Director. The fact that he was willing to place that amount of personal risk on the line for one of his agents was almost beyond inconceivable to her.

"Look Reeves, I never got the chance to get the message to him. Carlito never showed at the drop. That was when the spotters outside of the estate realized that half of the workers in the compound were gone. They've either been removed from the property, or taken inside the actual estate, but we don't know which yet. The only people out in the opium fields are native workers. We haven't been able to get any Intel of substance as to what these changes might mean. Our best guess is that Valdario suspects that someone has infiltrated his operation. We have to assume that he doesn't know who, or when since they've removed so many of their workers. But if this supposition is that with the disappearance of Carlito Estrada…it follows that Valdario believes that the informant is American and that he was shipped in by Estrada."

The blood drained from Megan's face as she listened to this report. If Don's cover had already been blown….if Valdario had pegged Estrada for a traitor…

"We are going to pull him out, right?"

"I know you aren't going to like this, Reeves, but we have to assume that Don's actual cover is not yet compromised. The fact that every American male has been removed from the fields indicates that he is still undiscovered."

Megan felt an upsurge of panic rising in her chest.

"You're damn right I don't like it! We need to get our man out of there!"

"Reeves, the Intel drops that Agent Eppes has been able to provide thus far are good, but there is nothing there that can guarantee a conviction…not for Valdario."

"To hell with a conviction! Don's life is more important than getting this guy…and you know it."

Merrick held up his hands in surrender.

"This decision comes from above me, Agent Reeves. I have already broken protocol by attempting to contact him during a covert operation. Believe me, I am the first one who wants to go down there and get him out. He was never trained to go this far under, and I still don't think he should have been the first choice for this assignment…but Don Eppes is one of the finest field agents this office has seen and I want him back."

Megan could tell that the Assistant Director was not just saying this to placate her. He seemed genuinely afraid for Don's safety, but that did little to quell her own fears. He didn't have the authority to order an emergency extraction, so from here on out, it was in someone else's hands.

"How long do they want to wait?"

Megan leaned back in the chair and stared at him piteously.

"I know it's a joint decision…but they have to realize, Valdario is brutal. If he finds out who Don is, he'll hang him up for every worker to see, and then come after his family. That's what he's done in the past."

Nodding, Merrick released a deep sigh.

"That's mainly why the extraction is being held off."

Megan narrowed her eyes at him inauspiciously as he continued.

"Since there have been no overt displays of retribution, they seem to believe that Agent Eppes' cover is still intact. I strongly disagree, but my opinion on the matter seems to be of little consequence."

"Why?"

"Why do I disagree?"

Megan nodded in silent confirmation.

"Well, Don was one of only four American males shipped via Estrada during the last recruitment and then Estrada has only brought in six others over the last six months. It's a small pool to work from and it is only a matter of time before Agent Eppes is compromised. If they are working under those same assumptions, they will figure it out. It's my opinion that we get him out before that happens. But the powers that be have their own agenda."

Megan quickly stood and headed for the door. Her thoughts immediately turned to Alan and Charlie. If anything were to happen to Don…

'Stop it! I can't think like that.'

Megan quickly turned to face the desk again.

"So what's the plan?"

Merrick actually looked a little green at that question. She could tell from his expression that he was not happy about the situation and the fact that the decision was no longer solely in his hands was maddening.

"We wait."

Giving him a curt nod, Megan straightened her jacket and turned back toward the door.

"I have to tell the team. They deserve to know what's going on."

"Megan, we cannot afford to have anything leak."

She could hear him stand up behind his desk, and once again she turned back to face him.

"Listen, Reeves, you can tell Granger and Sinclair if you must. But no one else needs to know…no one else, and I do mean that. There are a very limited number of people in this building who know where he is right now and it needs to stay that way."

Merrick wiped a hand down his face as he spoke and Megan suddenly realized that he looked exhausted.

"As much as it pains me to say it, Megan, no one; including his family, needs to know about this. Not until we have more information. Besides, the last thing Don's family needs at this point are more worries on top of everything else they're dealing with."

She nodded at him shrewdly and Merrick sat back down and put his elbows on his desk.

"How is Professor Eppes?"

"You know, we go through years of conditioning before we see the kind of violence that he was witness to. Just because it was mother-natures violence doesn't make it any less disturbing."

She turned back to the door and then stopped again with her hand on the knob and spoke without turning around this time.

"I do understand why they can't be told, but I gotta tell ya, if Alan and Charlie find out about this…"

Shaking her head to herself, Megan opened the door without waiting for his response and walked back out into the bullpen.

……………………………..

TBC