Disclaimer: see chapter 1
A/N: Thank you for your comments, max2013 and Guest, and sorry in advance. This is the last time, though, I promise.

Chapter 14: Within Reason – And Without

Charlie's watch was telling him that David had hardly been gone for three minutes, even though his sense of time told him that there was no way his watch could be accurate. Then again, the clock of his car agreed with his watch, and so did the big clock above the zoo entrance.

How was he going to get through thirty minutes of this agonizing wait?

He took a deep breath and put his head in his neck, forcing himself to calm down. When he could no longer feel the hammering of his heart, he looked back at the zoo, and it was then that his heart skipped a beat. He looked harder, almost certain that his mind was playing tricks on him, but as hard as he was looking, the image never changed: there was a faint glimmer coming from the monkey compound, an irregular flicker, and maybe Charlie's imagination was getting the better of him, but he could have sworn that he could see smoke coming up, too.

The monkey cage was burning.

The monkey cage was burning, and there was every chance that Don and his colleagues were somewhere near this fire right now, probably trapped.

There was no further conscious thought on Charlie's mind before his hands jerked open his car door and his feet ran towards the zoo entrance, taking the same route he'd seen David and the two officers take earlier.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" Don asked more forcefully than before, as the sound of the flames consuming the gasoline was getting to his ears.

"Because you need to pay!" she shouted back, hard. "You killed Pete!"

"We were acting in self-defense!" Colby gave back angrily. "But even so, it was me who shot him, and nobody else, so if you wanna punish someone so badly, at least let my colleagues go!"

She scoffed. "You think this is just a simple act of revenge? This is for Pete, yes, but we're doing this not just to make right the wrong having been done to him, we're also doing this to continue his work!"

"His work?" Colby repeated with some incredulity. "And what's that, killing off federal agents?"

In his back, Don could hear the crackling of the fire becoming louder, and when he turned his head around slightly, he could see that the flames were slowly taking over to the plants and growing larger. He still couldn't feel the heat coming from them, but he knew it was only a matter of minutes now, which made his initial plan of playing for time seem hardly advisable. What else was there to be done though? He might try to get to the keys of his handcuffs, but Marcy would notice, and anyway, where was the use in that while they were still imprisoned in this cage with the entrance blocked by a wall of fire? Sure, at this point, the wall was nothing more than a little hurdle and they would still be able to get past the flames with ease, but that was about to change as the flames were getting higher. No, they needed to do something else, they somehow needed to convince Marcy to let them go...

"You are so ignorant!" she continued her tirade. "You go around the world bragging about what heroes you are, but in truth, all you are is pawns of a greedy, self-righteous government that brings nothing but misery over the rest of the world!"

"And let me guess," Colby said with dripping sarcasm, "Pete was fighting against this evil establishment."

"As a matter of fact, he was! He believed in a juster world, where the power is distributed more equally, where there's not entire peoples oppressed by a small elite who can just act as they wish."

"And you figured that killing innocent people is the right way towards a juster world?" Megan argued.

"The people we hurt are hardly innocent," Marcy replied with a coldness that took Don a little by surprise. Granted, he hadn't been nearly as ready to believe in her innocence as Charlie had been, but going by her initial interrogation past Monday night and based on what they knew about her, he wouldn't have picked her as the reckless pragmatist she was now acting like either.

"They're all part of the unlawful oppression that has been happening for centuries now," Marcy continued. "The western world has been holding down the eastern world for decades, they've exploited them just to get their precious oil, they increased poverty and instability in a conflicted region just for their own economical gain and to secure their hegemony, and everyone who profits from this unlawful system without fighting it is making themselves culpable."

"Then join the peace corps if you feel so strongly about that," Colby gave back, "but stop messing with a power you don't know anything about! The people you're supporting are dangerous, Marcy, they want to commit attacks against everyone and everything you know. They don't care who dies, they don't care whether or not they're good people, they just want to kill anyone who according to them is evil and create fear, and you're helping them do that. Do you really want that?"

Marcy didn't answer at once, but from the look on her face, from the cynical smile playing around her lips, Don got the feeling that Colby's words hadn't made her change her mind one bit.

"You really think I don't know what I'm doing?" she asked in a tone that was so low and menacing that it made shudders run down Don's spine, and that even though he thought he started to feel the first outposts of the fire that was sending over its heat in soft waves delivered by the evening breeze. "You think I'm somehow a victim in all this, that they brainwashed me or something?" She shook her head, a haughty smile on her lips. "Pete and I, and everyone who's fighting with us, we were prepared to open our eyes and think for ourselves, to see beyond what our government wants us to believe, to see the bigger picture. Just because the West is usually on the winning side and the winner always manages to appear as though he'd been fighting for a just cause doesn't make it so. It's not the East who's trying to manipulate us. It's the West that uses lies and trickery to further its goals, and it's people like you who just follow its leaders blindly and enforce their agenda that bring about the downfall of everything that's good and just."

Don frowned, wondering whether Marcy was aware that in the 'just system' of the eastern nations she was talking about, she, as an unmarried woman, would hardly hold such a position of power as she was holding now. True, she had a point in stating that the West had sometimes been abusing its power, and that conflicts were often fought for the wrong reasons, also by western countries, but how was that supposed to justify what she and her friends were doing to random people whose only fault it was to belong to a western nation?

"Why are you telling us all this, Marcy?" Megan asked, and despite her calm tone, there was an intensity in her voice that made Don glance at her. Did she have a plan?

The haughty smile was back. "Don't you want to know why you're going to die?"

"So this is your way of passing judgment on us? But why do you bother giving us an explanation when you don't even give us an opportunity to repent, to change ourselves and join you?"

Marcy looked back at her, the expression on her face still stony, but it was the first time that she didn't have an immediate reply.

"You know why you're truly explaining all this to us?" Megan went on. "It's not for our benefit, it's for your own. You need your little speech so you can tell yourself that your actions are justified, and you feel that need because deep down, you know that what you're doing is wrong."

Marcy was silent for a moment, a tense moment during which Don thought that Megan had indeed managed to convince her, before she snorted with derision. "Seriously? What is this, Psych 101?" She mimicked Megan's calm and intense tone, "Subconsciously, you know that this is wrong, just listen to what your heart tells you to do." Her voice became normal again, aggressive. "That's a load of bullshit! We're fighting a just war, do you still not get it? We're at war, and at war, there are bigger issues to be dealt with than the lives of a few scattered civilians! The people in the East deserve to finally be heard, to reclaim their sovereignty, and that's what Pete and I and everyone who's with us has been fighting for, and we'll continue this fight until we'll have won. You can't stop us –"

She broke off, whirling around to her left, to the noise they'd heard coming from the shadows, a dull thud, accompanied by a soft groan. The two gunmen turned around as well, and for a moment Don thought that this was their chance, that they needed to retrieve their weapons now, but the mere fracture of a second later, one of the gunmen had redirected his attention towards them while the other one continued peering into the darkness, so Don abandoned the attempt and chose to focus on figuring out the meaning of this disturbance.

"Who's there?" the second gunman asked when all that came from the shadows was some rustling.

Before there was an answer, there was light. Marcy had retrieved a flashlight from her pocket and was pointing it towards the source of the rustling sound, and Don held his breath. There, at the edge of the bushes, was a figure on the ground, lying half on the grass, half on the footpath, next to a long something that looked like a thick branch. A young man was kneeling on the figure, holding a knife against the neck of his prey, and Don had no trouble recognizing the attacker as Joey. He had more trouble recognizing the figure on the ground though, for the head was turned away from them. Yet, he knew that he should recognize the clothing, the build, and most of all that curly hair, all of which were filling him with a visceral form of fear, but at the same time his mind was telling him that it just wasn't possible, that there had to be another explanation for the sight his eyes were presenting to him.

"Take it and search the area," Joey told his accomplices. His nod was directed towards a gun that was lying on the footpath, about a foot from Charlie's hand, as though it had been in it when Joey had knocked him down. Don was starting to shake his head that was spinning with crazy ideas and theories all trying to make sense of this situation when Joey's words brought him back to the present, "He might not be alone."

"You!" Marcy said slowly and took a step towards him. "What are you doing here?" There was surprise in her voice as though she, too, was still trying to make sense of the situation. Then, however, she swiftly picked up the gun on the ground and pointed it at Charlie, rounding him until she was facing the agents again, having now both them and Charlie under her watchful eyes.

"Go search the area," she told her gunmen then, and before Don had been able to move or even form a coherent thought, she addressed the agents, "And you don't move, or I'll put a bullet in his brain."

Don more sensed than saw Colby and Harvey next to him freeze in mid-motion while his own mind was still struggling to understand what was happening. His heart was racing in his chest, and the blood had rushed to his head, making beads of sweat form on his skin. He fought down that rising panic though, forcing himself to take deeper breaths. It was still hard to grasp a clear thought on what had happened to bring this situation about, but all facts pointed towards one explanation, and one explanation only: somehow, Charlie had found himself in those bushes when Joey, upon returning from setting fire to the cage, had noticed him and knocked him over with that branch, which must have prompted Charlie to lose the weapon that for some reason had been in his hand.

He shook his head, still fighting to understand how the hell something like that could have happened, but all facts were pointing towards that it had, so what mattered now was figuring out a plan to get them out of this mess. Unfortunately, however, Don was well aware that working on a plan hadn't been going very well so far, and now with Charlie entering the mix, Don felt as though his mind had stopped working for good. With his throat dry and his breathing more shallow than he would have liked, he was trying to get a good look at his brother, to gauge the situation a little better. Charlie was still on the ground, face-down, with Joey and his knife keeping him from moving around freely – just like it inhibited any movements from Don and his coworkers. For what could they do if any movement would resolve in Charlie's death?

"Pull him up," Marcy told Joey, so with a firm grip on his collar, he jerked Charlie into a kneeling position, never taking his knife from his neck.

Only now was Don able to see Charlie's face, and what he saw made him wince. There was something dazed about his posture, his eye-lids seemed heavy, and yet, the expression in his eyes underneath was alert, showed awareness of what situation he found himself in. There was a fear in those eyes that Don had never seen before, and for good reason. No matter how on earth Charlie had found his way to this cursed place, there was a good chance he wouldn't find his way out of it alive.

"What are you doing here?" Marcy asked again, this time sharper, stricter, aiming the gun at him and acting as though she was the authority of the executive, legislative and judiciary in one person. The image seemed so unreal that Don was inclined to believe it was merely a bad dream, but the licking fire in their backs, bringing with it searing heat and pungent smoke, made him abandon that idea. Still, his mind was bugged by one thing he just couldn't make sense of: where the hell had Charlie gotten a gun from?

"I asked you a question!" Marcy said loudly, cocking the gun.

"I followed them," Charlie now spoke for the first time, his voice hoarse and thin. Don noticed though that the dazed look had left his face by now, giving the fear more room to unfold. He could see how Charlie's rib-cage was expanding and contracting in quick succession, as though even something as simple as breathing normally, less shallowly, would run the risk of either the gun or the knife doing damage to him.

"Why?" Marcy asked.

Don saw Charlie swallow and simultaneously draw back from the knife a little, but Joey followed his movements, the blade never leaving the side of his neck. Both him and Marcy seemed to be focused on Charlie, and the gunmen were nowhere to be seen, so if they were going to strike, to do something about their situation, they had to do that now, right? They didn't have much longer until the fire would have reached them, probably less than five minutes, so they had to grasp any opportunity that presented itself to them, however slim the chances of succeeding – right? They could reach behind themselves and try to get a hold of their weapons. That would take them a second or two, true, and it would probably be long enough for Marcy to fire a shot, maybe two or even three, but those were still better odds than all of them burning to death, right? Besides, there was a chance that Marcy would miss, or that her bullets would be deflected by the bars of the cage, or that their damage wouldn't be fatal.

On the other hand, the gunmen might come back any moment, and from the shadows, they would have a much better chance of hitting Don and his team members than the other way round. So even though the alternative seemed grim, he still couldn't put his fellow agents at risk by acting recklessly.

Don swallowed nervously. It was the right thing to do not to antagonize Marcy, right? Or was he just shrinking back from that option because he knew that Charlie would most likely be the first to lose his life in such a case?

He's a civilian, Don told himself, fighting to think about this objectively. Protecting him is our priority, no matter whether or not he's my brother. And even with the fire getting closer, even with him being the center of attention right now, Charlie still had a chance of making it out of here alive, so Don's new job consisted in ensuring that they would make the most of that chance.

In the meanwhile, Charlie was explaining his presence to Marcy. "I was worried," he stammered. "I knew they were coming after you, and I was worried someone might get hurt in the process."

"You mean someone among your little FBI friends."

"Either them, or you. I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I thought I might act as some sort of mediator between you."

Charlie was still talking too fast, too breathlessly, the fear having taken hold of him. Still, despite that mask of scared nervousness, Don thought he could tell that Charlie wasn't saying the truth.

"You?" Marcy laughed. "Why would we listen to anything that you have to say? You're just as bad as the rest of them! You think we don't know you've been working along with them?"

"I…" Charlie started stammering, fighting hard to find the right answer to a question that they all knew didn't have one. "I was only trying to do the right thing," he said hoarsely.

Marcy just huffed, not even dignifying that with a response. "Is there anyone here with you?" she asked instead.

Charlie swallowed, and Don thought he could see the wheels turn behind his forehead, racing to find the best answer to the question.

Before he had, Joey pulled his head back at his hair and put the knife against his neck harder. "Answer us! And don't lie, for if we find you lied to us..." He let the phrase hang in the open, knowing that Charlie understood the threat very well.

"Easy, Joey," Marcy said rather sharply, but the threat had already reached its goal.

"I'm here alone," Charlie croaked and Don could see that his eyes had become a little glassy, the fear in them increased.

Joey and Marcy exchanged a glance, then seemed to come to an understanding. "We're prepared to believe you," Marcy said coolly. "Which means we don't need you around anymore."

Don thought someone had put his head and his entire body in a burning oven, and he knew that the fire had little to do with that. "No, wait!" he shouted when he realized what they were about to do. "You can't hurt him, he's on your side!"

"On our side?" Marcy laughed incredulously. "We are fighting for a new world order, where every nation can enforce their rights, regardless of their GDP! All he and the likes of him ever do is putting on band-aids, and that with that self-righteous air of a do-gooder saving the world with their sponsorship of a poor little child from Bangladesh or Pakistan! What we need is real change, not some peanuts you throw them to feel better about yourself while simultaneously supporting an unlawful system!"

"You're wrong!" Don argued. "He's not like that, he's not like us, he's not part of the establishment! He's more like you, he thinks for himself, he's a scientist who understands how the worlds works and what needs to be done!" Don knew that his speech probably wasn't very credible and that his reasoning wasn't very sound, but damn it, logic wasn't working all that well when someone was pointing a gun at your little brother.

There was a cynical smile on Marcy's lips as she replied coolly, "If only you had cared as much about all the people you have wronged in your line of work. Too bad it's too late to repent now." She turned towards Joey then. "Step aside."

Joey moved out of her line of shooting, and then, for a moment, it seemed to Don as though his brother and Marcy were the only two people left in this world. She lifted the gun, aiming at Charlie, who was still kneeling there on the ground before her. The fear was still there in his eyes, but there was nonetheless some kind of dignity in his posture as he was looking back at her with a steady gaze, awaiting his execution.

Then, she pulled the trigger.