Seeing how I probably won't be posting again before next Sunday - Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the U.S.! Those of you serving overseas, please know our prayers are with you.

Chapter 20

Monday,

Liwanu Enterprises

Los Angeles, CA

0940 local

"Mr. Bander?" Margery stood in the doorway waiting for her boss to finish the phone call to one of California's more prominent state senators. When he looked up with a smile and motioned her in, she moved to one of the chairs in front of his desk and stood quietly. Despite the years they'd known each other, she never presumed upon their acquaintance, keeping her manner formal in the office. It had stood her in good stead over the years. Human nature being what it was, she always made sure to give the gossips absolutely nothing to work with. Margery much preferred 'Ice Queen' over 'office slut'.

Carson finished his phone call and looked up at his protege, "What do you have for me?" He was in a good mood this morning. His calls to a few select politicians had resulted in a new round of squabbling. He would have someone alert the media to this latest delay on the budget.

Margery held up a folder, "I have more background information for you." Although she was curious about why the Bear would want a deep background check on federal agents and military officers, she didn't ask. There were times when it was important to be able to honestly claim ignorance. He would tell her if she needed to know.

"Thank you," Bander accepted the folder and waited until Margery had returned to her desk. He'd just opened it when his private line rang. Bander picked up without hesitation. There were very few people who had the number of the direct line into his office, "Bander."

"Mr. Bander, it's JohnnyD." The voice crackled over the line, telling Bander that whatever Johnny was doing, it was on the move.

"What have you got?" Bander absently scanned the first page in the folder. So Don Eppes' father was a protester back in the sixties - interesting but not particularly useful. The rest of the information confirmed what he already knew. Eppes was one of those agents who made the pencil-pushing higher-ups want to tear their hair out but also helped forward the FBI's formidable reputation for catching criminals and solving cases.

"They're moving McKlellan."

Bander straightened up, ignoring the rest of the folder, "Now? Where are they?"

"They left the base about ten minutes ago. Hang on," there was a pause and then Johnny came back on the line, "They're changing their route. Looks like they want to make sure no one can track them - 'cept me, of course. I managed to get a GPS tracker on both vehicles." Johnny sounded smug.

"Good job," Bander smiled into the phone. JohnnyD was an absolute genius at infiltrating enemy territory. A descendent of Cheyenne Dog Soldiers, he came by it naturally. When Bander had been informed of the shooting at McKlellan's house, he'd contacted Johnny. Knowing he hadn't ordered anything of the sort made Bander suspect that McKlellan had faked the whole thing to get himself into protective custody. The problem was how much did McKlellan actually know? Husam swore up and down that the man wouldn't be able to tell the Bureau anything of use. His word might have carried a little more weight if it hadn't been for that misbegotten attempt on Dr. Eppes. Husam had rectified the situation but the fact remained that he'd misjudged his own people. They were so close now to executing their plans, Bander didn't need any more glitches.

He drummed his fingers on the folder. What to do? The ideal solution would be to grab McKlellan, find out how much he'd told the FBI and then make sure no one ever found the body. Killing the man outright was a poor second - without knowing what he'd said, they'd be operating in the dark. It could very well be possible that their entire operation was already compromised. Bander straightened up, his decision made. "Johnny? I need you to take McKlellan before he starts talking. You can have whatever you need. Can you do it?"

There was a long pause before Johnny answered cautiously, "I'm not sure that's possible. They have a chase vehicle with them. We'd have to separate the two and still be able to surprise the agents with McKlellan. It would be a lot easier to just take them all out."

"Not my first option, Johnny," Bander replied, scowling a little. He needed to know if Husam's part of his plan was in jeopardy and killing the agents would be counterproductive. He needed to throw his adversaries into disarray, not focus them with thoughts of vengeance.

The next pause was even longer. Bander waited patiently. If there was a way to pull this off, JohnnyD was the man to do it. If he said it wasn't possible, they would be forced to go with Plan B. Kill the Petty Officer and all the agents with him and deal with fallout as best he could.

"I might be able to pull it off," Johnny finally sighed, obviously reluctant, "But I'm going to need a few things and I'll need 'em fast."

"Very good," Bander reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a Blackberry. Entering a password, he quickly scrolled through a list of names. Stopping at one, he relayed the phone number to Johnny, "Tell him what you need. I'll let him know you've got cart blanche."

"It still might not work, Mr. Bander," Johnny cautioned. "If I can't take him alive, is it okay to kill him?"

Bander's expression turned hard, "If you can't take him alive, kill them all."

Monday,

Math Building

CalSci Campus

1015 Local

"He's probably teaching a class right now," Don glanced over at Harm as they headed towards the Math building. "We can wait in his office." The tall Commander was eliciting more than a few stares from the students they passed. Don shook his head slightly. What was the big deal about a uniform? The guys looked envious as hell and the girls were in danger of drowning from all the drool. He shot a quick sideways look at the JAG officer. Okay, the guy was good-looking too, but not that much.

"Any idea how long that would be?" Harm smiled politely at another pair of co-eds who seemed to be having trouble walking. Damn, did this happen every time Eppes arrived on campus? Mac had called the man handsome and then laughed at Harm's blatant disbelief. He hadn't thought it was all that funny, which had amused her even more.

"Hard to say, half an hour, an hour," Don looked at his watch and then looked at Harm, "Why? You got plans?"

Harm shook his head, "No, I was wondering if we could sit in on his class. Would he mind?" Harm was admittedly curious about Don's younger brother. Although Mac hadn't come out and said it, he could tell she thought Charlie was pretty special. He knew it wasn't on a romantic level and he figured she considered Charlie like a little brother.

"I doubt it. We'll still have to stop by his office. I don't know which room he's lecturing in." Don took the lead through the hallways until they arrived at a door marked 'Charles Eppes'. Rapping once, Don opened the door and walked in, gesturing for Harm to follow.

Harm looked around Charlie's office. It was a lot more spacious than he'd expected and a lot more cluttered. There were knick-knacks, awards, photos and a surprising amount of toys. Papers, file folders and books were stacked on most of the available surfaces. Harm couldn't help grinning as he looked around. He'd thought Mac was the only one who regularly tempted the effects of gravity with her mountains of files. Charlie was a stacker, too.

"What's so funny?"

Harm turned to see Don watching him. He waved his good hand around the room, "Cut this room in half, ditch the toys and put a few Marine posters on the walls and you've got Mac's office."

Don couldn't help chuckling, "You're kidding. Mac's a slob like Charlie? I would have never guessed."

"I am not a slob."

Don and Harm turned back towards the doorway to see Charlie standing there. The young professor walked over to his desk, unslinging the shoulder strap of his carry case and putting it on the floor by his chair. He eyed the two men, "For your information, I happen to know where everything is."

"Yeah, right," Don snorted, still grinning. He glanced over at Harm, "Sound familiar?"

"Oh yeah," Harm rolled his eyes. He'd heard the same argument from Mac for almost as long as he'd known her. All these years and he still couldn't figure out how someone as fastidious in their appearance and habits as Mac was, could be comfortable in that paper-filled chaos. Her apartment was always neat and clean, too. it was just her office that looked like a paper bomb had gone off.

Charlie folded his arms, "I'm going to assume you two didn't come down here just to bust my chops about a couple of stacks of files. What's up?"

"We might have caught a break." Don launched into all the information they'd gotten from Rambo. As he was speaking, Charlie turned towards a blackboard covered with equations and starting writing, erasing a few figures and adding others. Harm watched in fascination. As a pilot, he'd learned the higher mathematics tied to aerodynamics. This was the first time he'd ever seen an investigation converted into a mathematical equation.

Don eventually finished his narrative and then he and Harm waited for Charlie to complete his figuring. After a few more minutes, Charlie finally stepped back and contemplated what he'd done.

"Well?' Don prompted after a little bit as the silence stretched out.

"Wha... ? Oh, sorry," Charlie gestured towards the blackboard. "There's a 75% chance or greater that your observer was the one who tipped off the police."

"We kinda figured that already," Don replied, sharing a look with Harm. "That's all you've got?"

Charlie scrubbed a hand through his hair, "Well, that's not all but it's not really conclusive yet. I need more data."

"What is it?" Don persisted.

Charlie continued to look uncomfortable, "Well, it's possible that your observer is also the guy that's running all this." He waved a hand at the blackboard.

"You're kidding," Harm couldn't help the look of disbelief, "That doesn't make any sense at all. Why would someone compromise his own operation?"

"But he didn't, not really," Charlie replied. "He only gave enough information to make McKlellan a suspect. The body would have been discovered eventually anyway and Rashid would have still been interviewed about his roommate. The only variable was Husam. We might not have met him."

Don nodded slowly, looking uncomfortable in his turn, "It was your shooting that triggered the deeper investigation."

"Which provides additional proof of Mac's theory that Naser acted on his own," Charlie did his best to keep his voice sounding natural. There was no way he was going to let Don know how much the incident had affected him. He wasn't sleeping well at night and it had taken every ounce of his willpower to get himself to the lecture hall this morning. Amita, bless her, had provided rock-solid support. She'd 'happened' to meet him as he was dithering outside the classroom and nonchalantly brought up a theory of Larry's that needed some mathematical verification. The discussion had gotten him into the classroom almost without realizing it. His students' warm welcome had done the rest, making him blush and sweeping away the last of the nerves. Amita had brushed off his attempt at thanking her right then, instead giving him a look that said the situation would be entirely different tonight.

Harm's phone rang and he stepped away a little as he pulled it out. The ID showed it was Mac. He flipped it open, "Hey... " Harm straightened up a bit, "You're where?... I don't understand, I thought Colby and... he did?... Mac, I don't like... yeah, you too?... okay, I understand. Be careful." He ended the call and looked up to see Don and Charlie watching him. Harm shrugged, trying to suppress an uneasy feeling. He could tell from Mac's voice that she was on edge despite telling him that everything appeared to be okay, "McKlellan refused to go with Colby and David. He insisted that Mac and Megan take him to headquarters or he wouldn't say anything. They went out there and now they're on their way back to the office."

"Where's David and Colby?" Don's voice was sharp. McKlellan had an axe to grind with the Colonel. His sudden insistence that she escort him smacked of a set-up.

"Following." The Commander was clearly unhappy with the situation, too. "It's going to take a little longer than usual. Mac's having Megan take a random route back."

That was something. Don relaxed slightly and turned to Charlie, "Do you think you could come in this afternoon? McKlellan could break this thing wide open."

"Of course," Charlie assured his brother. "Whatever you need, just let me know."

Don looked at his watch and then at Harm, "Let's get back to the office. The Bureau SUVs have GPS. We can track their progress."

"That'd be great," relief washed over the Commander's face. "Let's go."

- - - - -

Megan glanced over at Mac as the Colonel ended her call and tucked the cell phone away, "Is he still with Don?"

Mac nodded an affirmative as she returned to scanning their surroundings. Megan was doing a good job with the random route, Mac had no idea where they were. The agent was keeping to the busier sections of the city, avoiding the less populated industrial areas. Mac glanced in the mirror to check on McKlellan. He was still sitting sullenly in the back with his arms folded, for all the world looking like a petulant little boy. She frowned slightly, wondering what sort of mischief they'd avoided by exiting at a different gate. Hopefully, their luck would hold until they reached FBI headquarters. The sooner she was out of the man's company, the better. She was still jumpy as hell.

A flurry of motion caught her attention as they came up to an intersection. Two men on the corner were arguing. As the SUV drew closer, they began shoving each other. Both Megan and Mac watched warily. They were almost up to corner when one man lunged at the other and they both tumbled into the street, wrestling with each other. Megan reacted quickly, jerking the wheel over as she barely avoided hitting the men. A horn blared from an oncoming vehicle and she accelerated as she whipped the steering wheel in opposite direction to get them back in their lane. Mac looked over her shoulder as she braced her hands on the dash, "David and Colby are stopped. They can't get past those two idiots."

Megan nodded wordlessly, the adrenalin still coursing through her veins. She started to slow down when a bright flash seemed to come out of nowhere, blinding her. Blinking furiously, she slammed on the brakes throwing everyone forward. Spots danced in front of her eyes and then there was a second flash. Ducking her head, Megan barely heard Mac call her name. What the hell was happening? She stretched out a hand in the direction of the radio, not hearing the car door open. A hand landed roughly on her shoulder and as she turned towards the threat, a third flash hit. She never saw the fist that connected solidly with her jaw.

"Megan! What's wrong?" Mac spared a quick look at the agent as they came to a screeching halt before scanning the area, trying to identify the threat. Suddenly, she was squeezing her eyes shut. It was like someone had fired off a flashgun right in front of her. Grimacing, she forced her eyes open, trying to blink away the afterimage that was obscuring her vision. McKlellan was screaming something in the back seat but she couldn't spare the attention. The passenger door opened and as she turned towards the sound, there was another blinding flash. Mac flung a hand out, encountering a solid form. As her hand closed in a fist, her assailant grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her headfirst into the dash.

McKlellan watched in horror as four hooded men converged on the SUV. The two that headed for the front doors seemed to be unarmed until he caught a green flash from one's hand. He had just a moment to realize they had used lasers to blind the two women and then both back doors were yanked open. No lasers for him, both men held lethal-looking pistols. McKlellan threw his hands up, screaming at them not to shoot. Quick as lightning, one reached in and yanked him out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. A knee landed painfully between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place. Faster than he would have thought possible, his wrists were fastened together and a bag was shoved over his head. Then he was hauled to his feet. Hands grabbed both his arms and propelled him rapidly forward. He barked his shins painfully on a metal edge and then he was airborne for a brief second before slamming into a wall. Nearly sobbing in fright, he curled into ball. A few seconds later, there was a heavy thump that was followed almost immediately by another. The floor he was laying on dipped and righted itself and then a low voice spoke in his ear, "Make one sound and I'll slit your throat, understand?" He nodded frantically.

The floor vibrated as the sound of an engine roared to life and then they were moving slowly forward. A moment later, they came to a stop. A horn began sounding and he heard a man's voice up front swearing loudly and colorfully, telling someone to get out of the way.

"Goddammit!" Colby swore as David jammed on the brakes. The two men continued their brawl, completely oblivious to their surroundings. Less than a block ahead, he saw the brake lights of Megan's SUV come on. A few moments later, a large panel truck backed out of a narrow alley blocking his view. At the same time, the car behind them began laying on his horn. Colby looked at David, "I'll get those two. Why don't you give Megan a call and see if she can pull over for a minute."

"Right," David reached for the radio and keyed it on as Colby got out and headed for the combatants. "Hey Megan?" A sudden pounding on the window distracted him from whatever reply Megan might have made. Dropping the mike, his hand automatically went to his sidearm as he spun towards the sound. An angry-looking man was beating on his window. David glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the driver's side door was open on the car behind them. Great, some nut with a burgeoning case of road rage. The agent scowled as he rolled down the window, "What?"

"What the hell's the matter with you?! Move this thing or park it!" The man was practically spitting in rage.

"Hey, I'd love to. As soon as those two jerks get out of my way!" David snapped, glancing forward to see how Colby was doing. His partner had the two men separated but was having trouble getting them to move out of the way. In the meantime, he could hear other horns blaring as the panel truck began a slow, ponderous turn, effectively blocking both lanes.

"Go around them, goddammit!" the man gestured wildly, his face turning a deep red.

"Calm down," David ordered, gritting his teeth. Colby had finally gotten the two men to the curb and was trotting back to the SUV. The panel truck hadn't been able to make the turn and was now backing slowly up to get a better angle.

"Don't tell me what to do, you son of a bitch! Move your damn truck before I kick your ass!"

Completely exasperated, David whipped his badge off his belt and shoved it in the man's face, "Try it, asshole, and then we'll see how tough you are in prison. Federal agent." If he hadn't been so pissed, David might have found it amusing at the man's complete reversal of attitude. He watched the man slink back to his car as Colby reached the SUV and climbed in.

Colby jerked his chin in the direction of the man, "What was that all about?"

"Some nut who wanted me to run over you and those two idiots so he wouldn't have to sit in his car an extra sixty seconds." He rolled an eye at Colby, "He was willing to kick my ass over it."

Colby shook his head. People were nuts, that was all there was to it. He watched the panel truck finally make his turn and pull into the lane ahead of them. Immediately, cars began flowing from the other direction. A goodly number of drivers flashed the panel truck a one-fingered salute as they accelerated past. He couldn't see around the truck to see if the other SUV was there. Colby looked over at David, "Was Megan going to wait?"

"Man, I don't know," David scowled as he moved up behind the truck, "I called her and then that jerk began pounding on the window. I don't know if she answered or not. Try her again." A knot was beginning to form in his gut. Nothing could have happened, could it? They'd only been delayed a couple of minutes, at the most. The knot grew larger as Colby abandoned the radio and went to his cell phone. Why wasn't Megan answering?

"Man, I don't like this," Colby voiced David's worry out loud. "Get around this guy." He gestured at the panel truck.

David nodded grimly, flipping on the siren and lights for good measure as he pulled around the truck. Finally getting a look at the street ahead of them, the two agents exchanged glances. The other SUV was nowhere to be seen. David pounded the steering wheel and swore. He looked at Colby, steeling himself, "Put out a BOLO. I'll call Don."

Monday,

Unknown location,

1320 Local

Megan grimaced as the hands that had been half-leading and half-dragging her suddenly let go and she landed hard on her hands and knees. The woozy feeling told her she'd been drugged at some point. She decided it was too bad it hadn't been mixed with a painkiller as she worked her sore jaw. There was probably a hell of a bruise. Leaning back on her heels, Megan cautiously pulled the blindfold down and looked around the darkened room. Had anyone asked, she could have told them the blindfold was unnecessary. All she could really tell was whether it was light or dark. The afterimage was still there, effectively blocking her vision. She clamped down on the fear that it might be permanent. Until she knew what was going on, permanent was a relative term.

A light came on overhead and Megan nearly grinned. Terrific, they'd replaced the black blurriness with white blurriness. Stealthy sounds behind her told her she was no longer alone and she tensed.

"What did the Petty Officer tell you?" A voice came from behind her.

Megan started to turn and then froze when the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her skull. She took a careful breath, "Nothing. He didn't say anything. Ask him. Where's Colonel MacKenzie?" She barely bit back a groan when the gun barrel pulled away from her head and came down hard on her shoulder. She started to list to that side when the barrel pressed against her temple, pushing her upright again.

"You don't get to ask questions." Megan nodded slowly, her shoulder throbbing.

"What does the FBI know?"

"About McKlellan?" Megan held herself tightly, not sure if that was going to warrant punishment.

"About McKlellan," the voice confirmed.

Megan hesitated and the gun barrel pushed harder against her temple, "Not much. We know he was selling weapons, we think he was selling information. There's no proof yet."

"Selling to who?"

Megan cautiously shook her head, "Don't know. That's one of the things we were hoping he'd tell us." There was a silence and then a light shuffling noise. Megan tensed again, wondering what was coming next. Were they going to kill her now? She gasped as a needle plunged into her neck. Hands gripped her shoulders, holding her in place until she collapsed in a boneless heap.

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