It had taken the better part of the day and miles of red tape, not to mention several favors called into various departments, but Don was relieved when he was finally on the late flight out to La Guardia airport with Carroway sitting beside him, handcuffed securely to Don's right wrist. If there was some way to capture both men, Don would gladly take it, but his priority was his brother's safety. Anything else on top of Charlie being recovered safe and sound would be icing on the cake.
The agents from Don's office were awaiting their arrival, having already obtained secured quarters for their prisoner. They weren't taking any chances. And with the help of the New York field office, Central Park was going to be crawling with agents. If all went according to plan, Charlie would be on his way back to Los Angeles by this time tomorrow.
Don felt eyes on him from across the aisle, and he turned to smile slightly at Terry. Upon learning their plan, she had flat out refused to be left behind. If Don was truthful, he was glad for her presence. Her calm focus was the only thing keeping him sane at this point.
On the other side of Terry sat David, who was flipping mindlessly through a magazine. Don had tried to dissuade him from coming, but David had simply given Don a determined look and said something about looking after one of their own. The sentiment warmed Don's heart, and he had given in. Having both of them there filled the older agent with more confidence than he had any right to feel.
Beside him, Carroway shifted in his seat. "Couldn't loosen these cuffs, could you? They're a little uncomfortable."
Don's eyes snapped to the folder and its contents that he held in his hand. "I could always break out the full body restraints. Those would be something to complain about."
Carroway let out a slight huff. "You know, I haven't been to New York in years. We should do some sight-seeing while we're there."
Don turned a page in the folder, still not looking at Carroway. "The only thing I plan on seeing is you and your cousin behind bars where you both belong."
"Really, Don, I'm not such a bad guy once you get to know me," Carroway stated. "I'm actually quite a hit at parties. I think we'd get along, you and me."
"I make it my business not to associate with criminals," Don shot back, feeling his temper rise again.
Carroway nodded. "I bet it's because of that whole 'me kidnapping Charlie and wiring him to explode' thing. If I hadn't done that, we'd probably have gotten along a lot better."
Don gritted his teeth. "Probably."
"I thought so," Carroway continued, unabashed. "I meant to ask you, Don. What was it like growing up with a brother like yours? I bet it was cause for quite a bit of tension."
Don closed his folder and finally turned to Carroway. "Not quite as much tension as I'm getting just being around you. Now, the way I see it, you've got two options. Either you shut your mouth for the next two days, or I fix it so you can't talk for the next two months. I'm not here for your amusement. This isn't a pleasure trip. The only thing keeping me from opening the door and dropping you out of this plane is the fact I need you to get my brother away from your cousin. That's all. So which is it going to be?"
Carroway appeared indifferent to Don's hissed speech. "Just trying to make conversation."
"Don't," was Don's advice.
The rest of the trip was made in silence.
Sleep was elusive. It seemed ages ago when Don had last gotten a solid night's sleep. While he had ordered his team members to grab a few hours' rest before the meeting, he found that he was unable to do the same. Instead, he sat in a chair by his window, staring out at the city skyline lost in thought.
Where was Charlie? It had been over thirty-six hours since he'd gone missing. Was he all right? Was he scared? Did he know that Don was looking for him?
It seemed as though Don was always pulling Charlie out of some kind of trouble. Though the young genius had never initiated any of it, he always seemed to be at the center of it. Don would admit to himself, in the middle of the night and in the sanctity of his own mind, that he hadn't always been there for his younger brother. Resentful of all the extra attention Charlie had received, he felt as though Charlie deserved some of what he had gotten. He was too sheltered, too naïve; he needed to experience what the real world was like. It was with shame now that Don realized he should have done more to protect Charlie.
Even now, though, all these years later, some part of Don still resented Charlie's abilities. He kept that part pretty well hidden, but every once in a great while it reared its ugly head. But he had done a better job at being a big brother to Charlie. At least, he thought so.
And now?
Don sighed. It was quickly becoming an old argument. He had felt relieved at getting out of his agreement to go with Charlie to the math conference, and that relief now carried the sharp sting of guilt. How could he feel glad to get away from the one person in his life who thought the world of him? Who admired and adored him for no other reason than he was his big brother? It really wouldn't have killed Don to spend a measly week with Charlie in New York.
Not to mention that, if he had gone in the first place, Charlie probably wouldn't have been abducted.
That, Don figured, was probably where all his anger was coming from. As mad as he was at Fischer and Carroway, it paled in comparison to the anger he had for himself and his actions towards Charlie. Knowing this merely fed into the fire that continued to burn inside of Don, and it would smolder and spark until he had Charlie back.
A knock on the door drew Don from his silent reverie. Rising, he crept across the room and, after looking through the peephole, opened the door.
Terry stood on the other side, dressed and ready to go. "It's time."
Charlie jerked himself back into consciousness at a sound coming from somewhere near his door. He tensed, silently cursing himself for falling asleep. Straining his ears, he listened for the noise again.
Footsteps.
Rising to his feet, Charlie readjusted his grip on the chair leg and moved to the side as his captor unlocked the door. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst. This was it.
The door opened, and his captor moved into the room, a gun in one hand. He paused, confused, as he stared at the remnants of Charlie's chair.
Charlie waited no longer. He swung the chair leg as hard as he could, bringing it down on the hand that held the gun. The gun clattered to the floor as the man brought his wrist back protectively against his body.
Charlie swung again, connecting with his captor's face. His captor flew back against the wall and sagged, dazed. Deciding not to waist any more time, Charlie leaped into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. He hunted for some way to lock the door. Finding nothing, he turned and ran as fast as he could down the hall in search of an exit.
Don shifted his weight from one foot to the next, glancing for what seemed like the hundredth time at his watch. Beside him, Carroway stood patiently, gazing around at his surroundings. Though it seemed as though the two men were alone, both knew that the surrounding trees and paths were being watched by invisible eyes.
Don sighed and shifted his weight again. "He's late."
Carroway smiled humorlessly. "Yeah, that's Patrick, all right."
Don leveled a glare on him, then leaned his mouth close to his lapel. "Terry, you guys see anything yet?"
His partner's voice responded in his ear. "Park's clear, Don. He's probably trying to make you sweat it out."
Don rolled his eyes, but didn't offer a comment. A couple more minutes passed when a sharp ringing caused the two men to jerk in surprise. Scowling, Don fished his cell phone out and flipped it open. "Eppes."
"Don?"
Don felt his blood run cold. "Charlie? Charlie, oh my God, where are you? Are you all right? Where's Fischer?"
"Don, I can't talk long," Charlie replied quickly. "I'm at a payphone near the corner of . . . Lexington and Park. Whoever kidnapped me is probably out looking for me by now. Can you send someone to come get me?"
Don beckoned at the trees furiously. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Find someplace safe and keep an eye out for me, all right? I'll be right there, Charlie. Just hang on."
He shut his phone and gave Carroway a shove towards an approaching agent. "Get him back to the hotel and secure him."
Terry ran up to Don. "Don, what's going on?"
"I'll explain on the way," Don told her, pulling her back in the direction of her car. "How fast do you think you can get me to Lexington and Park?"
Charlie hunched down in his seat, keeping his eye on the payphone he had called Don from. The small coffee shop wasn't very full, and the wait staff was content to leave Charlie on his own. That suited Charlie just fine; all he wanted was to see his brother and go home.
He was slightly surprised that Don was in New York looking for him, but part of him knew that Don would have chased him to the ends of the earth looking for him if necessary. Charlie was relieved, to be honest. He would much rather deal with his brother than complete strangers, which was why he had tried Don's phone before calling the police.
Even at half past four in the morning, there were still quite a few people out and about. Not as many as there would be during the day, or even in the evening, but enough to create small crowds. Charlie's eyes followed one group of people down the street and fell immediately on a familiar lanky form.
His heart skipping in his chest, Charlie rose from his seat and exited the coffee shop, wholly focused on his brother. Don hadn't spotted him yet, though he would soon enough the way he was scanning the streets. Beside him, Terry was doing the same.
Charlie jogged slightly, heading for the corner opposite from the one his brother was standing on. He raised his hand and waved. "Don! Terry!"
Terry spotted him first, and tugged on Don's arm. Don's head whipped around, and a grin threatened to split his face wide open upon spying Charlie. Together, the two agents began to dodge the traffic on their way across the street.
Charlie smiled in relief, glad that his horrible ordeal was over. His relief turned to confusion when, halfway across the street, Don's smile turned into a look of panic and horror. Before Charlie could react, he felt a hand grab his arm in a tight grip. The barrel of what was unmistakably a gun pressed firmly into his side.
"I should kill you right now," his captor hissed into his ear, dragging Charlie away from the corner slowly. "You're quickly becoming more trouble than you're worth."
"Fischer!" Don and Terry had reached the other side of the street and had their weapons drawn, both aiming at what Charlie presumed was his captor's head. "Let him go!"
Charlie tried to tug his arm free, but his captor tightened his grip and jabbed his gun into Charlie's side painfully. "Don't even think about it."
The people walking about the streets were pausing in their tracks, watching the scene with a mixture of disbelief and fear. Don and Terry ignored them, advancing on Fischer and Charlie even as Fischer drew Charlie further away.
"Agent Eppes, I have a gun pointed right at your brother," Fischer stated. "If you don't put your weapons down, I will shoot."
Don cocked the hammer on his gun. "Not before I take you out. Let him go!"
Fischer paused beside a red car that had its engine idling. "You know what I want, Agent Eppes! Where's my cousin?"
"You had your chance, Fischer!" Don shot back, feeling desperation creep into him. "How far do you think you'll get?"
"As far as I need to, Agent," Fischer replied. Deciding that hiding his gun was quite unnecessary at this point, he lifted his weapon and pressed it against Charlie's neck. "Drop your guns and kick them over here. Five."
"Last warning, Fischer!" Terry called.
"Four!"
Charlie's eyes met Don's.
"Three!"
Don's hand was starting to shake ever so slightly, but Charlie could see it. A lead weight seemed to attach itself to his heart. He knew Don wouldn't shoot Fischer. Couldn't.
"Two!"
Terry's eyes flickered from Don to Fischer, too quick for either man to notice. She waited for a signal from Don.
"One!" Fischer cocked the hammer of his weapon and moved to squeeze the trigger."
"All right!" Don shouted, holding his hands up. "Okay, I'm putting it down. Just don't hurt him." He slowly lowered to the ground, leaving his gun at his feet. Her mouth a thin line, Terry followed suit.
"Kick them over here," Fischer ordered.
Don and Terry kicked their guns as one. Don's reached Charlie's foot, but Terry's overshot them and landed on the street under Fischer's car.
Grinning grimly, Fischer relaxed his grip on Charlie. "In the car," he stated.
Charlie hesitated, looking at his brother. Angered by Charlie's lack of movement, Fischer grabbed a handful of Charlie's hair and forced his head back, pressing the gun against Charlie's exposed throat.
"I said get in!" he shouted.
"Leave him alone!" Don bellowed, incensed.
Fischer shoved Charlie against his car and aimed his gun at the younger Eppes. Trembling, Charlie slid into the backseat of the car.
"Oh, one more thing," Fischer said. Moving to quickly for either Don or Terry to react, Fischer leaned in and struck Charlie in the head with his gun. Charlie let out a muted cry and slumped down in the backseat, unconscious.
Don let out a cry of outrage and took a step forward, but Fischer's gun was back up and pointing at him. In the distance, sirens could be heard.
"Careful, Agent Eppes," he said. "Your brother is going to be fine as long as you do exactly what I say. I want to see you and my cousin at the same place, this time, tonight at eleven. Come alone, or I'll make sure you'll never see your brother again."
Don gritted his teeth, anxious to do something. He watched powerlessly as Fischer maneuvered around the car to the driver's side, slid into the seat, and peeled out of the parking lot in a screech of rubber.