Show: NUMB3RS

Genre: Action/Adventure/Suspense

Rated: T (some violence and language, but it'll be kept at a minimum)

Pairing: Don/Terry friendship

Summary: As Charlie works on his formula to find the perpetrators of a devastating robbery and murder spree, Terry disappears. When Don and the team are given an ultimatum, will they be able to find her in time and uncover the identities of the criminals before another attack?

Disclaimer: I swear I don't own NUMB3RS. I swear I don't make money by writing this. Please don't beat down my door and arrest me, nice-awesome-CBS-executive-people.

Chapter Eleven:

Don stared at the cell phone, hardly knowing what to expect next. Charlie, silent and looking physically revolted, trembled from his vantage point on the sofa. David, standing across the table from Don, silently motioned for him to keep talking, realizing that it was time for some fast-paced negotiation.

Don barely needed that encouragement to begin frantically talking, thinking rapidly on his feet. "Please, you need to understand – it's not that easy to just hand over evidence. We need to go through procedures, adhere to the Bureau's rules. If you want the formula, you need to give us another chance – killing Agent Lake isn't the answer to getting what you want."

"The way I see it, I gave you a chance and you threw it away. I'm the one who's in control here, and I have plenty of options open to me – and you have no choice but to go along with what I say," he heard the voice threaten. "And if I feel like braining your friend, I can do it any time I want."

Desperately trying to maintain a calm, steady voice, Don asked him again, "Just let me talk to her. I need to know she's all right before I negotiate with you any more."

He waited with baited breath for the response, hoping against hope that he would consent to his plea. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the voice came back on the line. "Yeah, you know what…I think that I might just let you do that. She's been asking about you anyway – I'm sure she'll want to hear all about what a great job you're doing keeping her alive."

Don ignored the insult, banking instead on the opportunity to finally be able to talk to Terry for the first time since this whole situation started. He could feel the tension exuding from everyone in the room as they waited to hear their friend. He suddenly started when he heard her voice from the speakers; she sounded strong and confident, but Don knew her too well to be fooled. He could hear the slight quiver of fear in her voice as she asked, "Don?"

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Terry had listened with bubbling fear and anger as her captor had spoken with Don. Though she could only hear one end of the conversation, she was sure that things weren't going well down at the office, though she refused to give up hope that her team would find her. She prayed that Don wouldn't try to do anything illegal to appeal to the man's ultimatums, but the situation sounded more critical the longer the man spoke. At one point, when he voiced his ability to kill her whenever he pleased, Terry noticed that his hand clenched even tighter around his revolver, and she felt an uncontrollable shiver pass through her.

Suddenly, he glanced down at Terry with a thoughtful, appraising look. "Yeah, you know what, "he said slowly, "I think that I might just let you do that. She's been asking about you anyway – I'm sure she'll want to hear all about what a great job you're doing keeping her alive."

He bent down toward her, placing his revolver far out of her reach, and held the cell-phone to her ear. Surprised that he was giving her the opportunity to speak, she asked in what she hoped was a strong voice, "Don?"

Her partner's voice, his relief painfully obvious, calmed her like nothing else could at that point. "Terry – are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

She chose to ignore the deep cut on her cheek and throbbing pain in her ribs. Don sounded as though he could use some reassurance. "I'm fine. Don, you aren't going to give them the formula, are you?"

"I don't know what else to do – Charlie's forgery didn't work, and I don't know how else we're going to get you back. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I told you I'm okay." Terry flicked her eyes up to her captor, who was kneeling next to her holding the phone and fixing her with an intense, cold gaze. She decided to throw all caution to the winds and suddenly said, "Don, don't deal with him. Please, whatever you do, don't negotiate with him. He's too dangerous to—"

The phone was suddenly yanked away from her ear as her captor stood, cuffing her viciously on the head as he went. She saw his hand clench around his revolver, and she hoped that Don would listen to her warnings.

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"Terry? Terry!" Don yelled, panicking as her voice suddenly disappeared from the phone line mid-sentence.

"Agent Eppes," the familiar masculine voice said, returning Don's call to his partner. "I didn't really like the way that conversation was going, so I stopped it while I was still ahead. You know that she's fine, so now we can get down to business."

"Put Agent Lake back on the line," he demanded, "I want to speak to her again."

The voice on the phone chuckled lightly in a disbelieving tone. "You think that you can order me around, Eppes? You still think that you're in control of this situation? If you think you can keep trying to bullshit me with your FBI procedures, you've got another thing coming." There was a metallic tapping sound that could be heard over the line. "Do you hear that? That's the sound of the loaded gun I have pointed at your friend right now. You know how easy it would be for me to pull the trigger?"

"Don't do anything you'll regret," Don pleaded, "You're already in enough trouble as it is, and if you kill her –"

"Don't lecture me!" the man yelled in an angry voice. "You have no control over what happens, and this won't be over until you give me what I want! If you want her back, you'd better start taking me seriously, Eppes. You'd goddam better well know that I'll kill her any time I want!"

Suddenly, a loud, explosive bang issued from the speakers, followed by an uncontrolled shriek that was unmistakably Terry which was the most horrifying sound Don had ever heard. He felt as though his whole life was wrapped up in this moment, as though the entire world had dropped away. Charlie had lurched off the sofa with a single violent motion, shakily making his way to the table.

The terrifying voice returned, enveloping the horrified agents with its audible hatred and anger. "Did you hear that, Agent Eppes? I could have killed her just now! That was just a warning. Do you feel like you're in control now?"

"No. What did you just do to her?" Don asked, softly.

"Oh, she's alive. She's not happy, but she's alive. I hope you've come to your senses – gunshot wounds can get infected pretty easily, and I'm not going to be doing her any favors. This next chance that I'm giving you is a gift…if you blow it, the next bullet is going through her head. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes. But, please, end this now. Every minute you keep her only adds to your sentence. If you let her go now—"

"I'm through talking about this, Eppes. You've got twenty-four hours." The speakers clicked as he disconnected, leaving Don with his hopelessness and despair.

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When her captor began talking in loud, incessant tones, Terry immediately began to worry. Though she hardly knew what to expect from someone so unstable, she was still taken completely by surprise when he whirled around to face her, firing the revolver in his hand at point blank range. Luckily, killing her hadn't been his intention since he aimed for her right arm, hitting her midway between her shoulder and elbow. She screamed in pain as the bullet ripped into her arm, ripping through skin and muscle before lodging in the stucco wall behind her. Frantically using her bound hands to rip off her shirt sleeve at the seam, she tried to staunch the free-flowing blood as it ran from the wound down the length of her arm, staining her skin and white shirt a deep red.

Thankfully, the bullet seemed to have missed any major arteries or veins, but the amount of blood pouring from the wound was far from reassuring. She knew that her biggest problem was going to be fighting off infection, though from the sound of his conversation, she might not be able to live long enough for that to become an issue. Hearing him snap shut her cell phone, she looked up at him, fighting back tears of pain. He stood above her breathing heavily, hands balled at his sides. He caught her staring at him, and he calmly holstered his gun, apathetically watching her try to patch up her bloodied arm with strips of her shirt.

"You'd better hope your partner knows how to take a threat, because pretty soon that's going to be the least of your worries," he told her coldly.

Terry refused to answer and instead turned her full attention to doctoring the gunshot wound that was still bleeding freely. As she knotted another strip of cloth around the wound, wincing against the pain, she heard him storm out into the hall, slamming the door behind him. Once again left alone in complete darkness, Terry curled into a corner and cradled her injured arm, begging her frustrated tears not to fall.

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This one was harder to write – the back and forth setup was difficult to get a handle on. Hope it was okay to read, wasn't too confusing, and made sense chronologically.