Charlie stared blankly at his notes for several minutes, as if not comprehending what he was seeing. He looked at his small notebook, then back to his larger one. Running a pencil along the line of numbers on the page, he muttered something to himself.
"What's wrong?"
Charlie jumped at Don's voice. Glaring half-heartedly at his brother, he turned to a fresh page in his notebook and began to scribble some numbers.
"Don't you have an apartment or something to go to?" he asked.
Don flopped down onto the couch and turned on the television. "Tired of me already?"
"Something like that," Charlie responded, his voice distracted.
"Hey, if you remembered to take care of yourself, then I wouldn't have to be here," Don pointed out. "Besides, I like bugging you. You make it so easy."
The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation. Both brothers didn't move from their spot, expecting the other to answer it. With Alan at his friend's house, it was just the two of them.
The doorbell rang again, and Charlie looked at Don, irritated. "Are you going to get that?"
Don flipped through the channels. "Hey, it's not my house."
"But I'm working here!" Charlie shot back.
The bell rang again. Don turned to Charlie and locked eyes with his little brother. When the bell rang a fourth time, Charlie sighed, irritated, and stood. Don smiled and turned back to the television.
Charlie opened the door, still feeling put off. He looked at the three men in dark business suits standing on his front porch. "Can I help you?"
"We're looking for a Dr. Charles Eppes," the man on the left stated. He had a thick accent that Charlie couldn't place. "Does he live here?"
"I'm Charlie Eppes," Charlie answered, brow furrowing in confusion. His brown eyes studied the man who had spoken. He was easily six feet tall, with thinning blond hair and cold, gray eyes. He and his companions were the same height, all wearing no-nonsense expressions. Charlie watched as they glanced at one another. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Actually, there is." The man with the gray eyes stepped forward and jammed something into Charlie's arm. Charlie let out a cry and tried to pull away, but it was too late. His vision swam, and his legs turned to rubber.
"Hey!"
Don, having heard his brother cry out, had gone to see what was going on. He watched as his little brother sank to the floor, clutching his arm. Two men were beginning to reach for Charlie, while a third with blond hair watched. At Don's call, all three stopped and looked at the agent.
Don cursed himself for not having his weapon, and decided to bluff. "Step away from him, now!"
The men didn't move, their eyes fixed on Don. Don approached slowly, studying his opponents. In the corner of his eye, he saw Charlie lying on the ground, but he couldn't tell if he was conscious.
"I said step away!" Don barked, grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be a poker from the fireplace. He gripped it like a baseball bat and moved closer.
The men backed away several steps, watching Don cautiously. Don risked a quick glance at Charlie to find his eyes closed and his breathing even. Slightly relieved that Charlie was relatively all right, Don turned back to the men.
"All right, who the hell are you?" he demanded. "What did you do to my brother?"
"Your brother is fine," the man with gray eyes stated calmly. "I suggest you put that poker down before someone gets hurt."
"The only one who's going to get hurt is you if you don't back away from my brother," Don replied coldly.
The man reached into his pocket, causing Don to tense. Don watched as the man removed a small gun, which was pointed right at his head.
"Put the poker down now, please," the man stated calmly. "Unless you want me to kill you."
His gun swung down to Charlie. "Or your brother."
Don stared at the gun, nausea swelling in his stomach. Slowly, he lowered the poker. "All right," he said, dropping the poker to the floor with a clatter. "All right. Take it easy."
The man looked at his companions and jerked his head at Charlie. As one, they crouched down and lifted the young mathematician between them and carried him out the door.
"Where are you taking him?" Don demanded, though he didn't really expect an answer.
"You'll know soon enough," the man replied. "You're coming with us."
Don was burning with curiosity, anxious to ask more questions, but he bit his tongue. He wasn't sure what these men wanted with his brother, or with him for that matter, but as long as he was able to go along with Charlie, he would stay quiet.
The man gestured to the door with his gun. Taking the hint, Don moved out into the bright sunshine and down the path to the black sedan that was parked in front of the house. The two men were just loading Charlie into the backseat as Don approached. Don climbed in beside his brother and slung a protective arm around Charlie's shoulders, holding him tightly. He stared out the window, cursing silently when he saw his father's car pull into the driveway. Alan climbed out and looked at the car, a frown on his face. His eyes locked with Don's, and he began to approach.
The man with the gray eyes sat down beside Don and shut the door as the other two climbed into the front. Alan began to run to the car, fear creeping onto his features. Don could only look at his father resignedly, knowing what Alan would be going through.
The sedan started, and pulled away from the curb. The last image Don had of his father was of Alan standing in the road where they had just been sitting, one hand clamped over his mouth in terror.