"Agent Eppes!" the voice boomed.
Don's ears rang and his head pounded. The air seemed stale. He opened his eyes, but it was still dark. Closing them, he murmured, "What do you want now?"
"Do you find this volume level too high?"
"Would it matter if I did?" Don asked.
The man answered, "Of course! I would log it as an observation, Agent Eppes."
Don rolled over so he was facing the wall. "My name is Don," he said tiredly. He had been trying to get this guy to use his proper name for hours. Or at least say why he wouldn't use it. Every attempt had been pointedly ignored.
"I thought I would inform you," the voice continued. "For calls of nature, there is a bucket under the cot."
"Great." Don half-rolled over. "Don't suppose you've got an aspirin?"
There was a second or so of silence. "Are you in pain, Agent Eppes?"
Feeling reckless, Don suddenly decided not to answer.
"Agent Eppes," the man's tone was threatening. "I suggest you respond when I ask you a question." Don remained silent. After a moment, the voice spoke again. "As you have already figured out, Agent Eppes, you are in an eight by eight-foot cell. The walls are five and a half feet high. This means you have three hundred and fifty-two cubic feet of breathable air." There was a pause. "The average human being, at rest, consumes three hundred and eighty-eight cubic feet of air in a twenty-four hour period – to put it simply." He had Don's full attention now. "You have been here for roughly eight point two hours."
That long? Don thought despairingly. They don't have anything to go on. They're not going to find me.
"That works out to," he continued. "Approximately one hundred and twenty point three cubic feet of air you have already consumed. Leaving you with two hundred and thirty-one point seven cubic feet of air, or roughly fifteen point eight hours."
This guy's been taking lessons from Charlie. Don sucked in his breath. Charlie!
"Now, Agent Eppes," the voice adopted an admonishing tone. "If you behave yourself, I can give you more air, thereby increasing your life expectancy. If you choose not to co-operate, however, I won't be able to do that for you. And you will die in a little over half a day."
Don began chuckling softly.
"What do you find so amusing, Agent Eppes?"
"You," Don replied. "You sound like this guy I work with. He's always spouting mathematical equations and probabilities and theories and garbage."
"Mathematics is not 'garbage', Agent Eppes," he responded. "It is the most precise form of science."
"And you're a scientist," Don sneered. "Bully for you." He waited, but there was no answer. "The guy I know could work circles around your feeble attempts at math."
This time the pause was longer. "You really think so? I doubt that, Agent Eppes."
"Oh yeah," Don said. "Definitely."
The man was obviously irritated now. "And who exactly is this mathematical genius you believe will 'work circles' around me?"
It was Don's turn to pause. On the one hand, he didn't want to involve Charlie in this depraved experiment. But he knew, deep down, if anyone could find a way out for him it would be Charlie.
"My brother."
-x-x-x-x-x-
Megan and David were standing next to Colby's desk, watching the computer monitor. The younger agent was reviewing the surveillance tapes from the parkade, shaking his head.
"I don't understand," he said. "I know I saw the guy. He was standing right there." He jabbed his finger at the screen. "Why isn't he showing up on the tape?"
"No idea," David replied. "Maybe the camera's at the wrong angle or something." He clapped his hand on Colby's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it, man. It's not your fault."
Colby turned away from the desk and asked Megan, "Am I losing my mind or something?"
"No." All three agents turned. Charlie walked up to them and gestured at the computer. "May I?" he asked. Colby stood and offered the chair.
Sitting down, Charlie began typing while he explained. "This was an illusion, that's all. A very rudimentary illusion."
"On the tape?" Megan asked.
David added, "Like that stalker case – making the camera lens open too wide or too narrow?"
"Nope," Charlie shook his head. "Whoever it was didn't do anything to the camera. Besides, the cameras used for the security systems in this building can't be tampered with like that." He hit one final key and leaned back. "The illusion was performed on Special Agent Granger himself."
All three leaned in to get a closer look at the monitor. Charlie had enlarged the shot of the stairwell doors numerous times.
"Charlie," Colby said. "What are we looking at?"
"The top," Charlie replied, punching more keys. "Of this." The screen changed. Now it displayed another camera angle – a long shot of the stairwell doors. Beside the pillar they were interested in was a square of darkness.
"What the hell is that?" Megan asked.
Colby leaned in. "Charlie, is that… a mirror?"
"Yep," Charlie replied. "It is a mirror." He resumed typing. "Which means the perpetrator was standing…" The picture changed to a schematic of the parking garage. "Right… here." A green circle appeared.
David said quickly. "We need the footage from the cameras in that area." He turned and headed for the A/V lab.
Colby stared at Megan. "How the hell could I have seen a whole man standing there, when it was just a little mirror?"
"Think hard, Colby," Megan replied. "Do you remember seeing a whole man?"
Brow furrowed in thought, Granger shook his head. "I don't know now – I thought I did."
"You might have seen a reflection of a whole man, or only part of him," Charlie put in. "The shock of what happened may have distorted your memory a little. Your mind would have straightened it out as best as it could, leaving you to believe you saw a fully-grown person behind that pillar."
Megan said, "It's possible, I suppose. I have heard of it before."
Colby shook his head again. "Time lost. We might've found out about this sooner…"
"We know it now," Megan interrupted. "That's the important thing."
David came back in a hurry. "The A/V lab picked up an image on one of the cameras. They're processing it now." He gestured to the computer. "They'll send it up."
Charlie nodded. Turning back to the monitor, he opened a window on the screen. It contained a fuzzy image of a man in dark clothing standing next to a pale van. "The shot isn't wide enough to pick up the plate on the vehicle," Charlie said. Looking at Colby, he asked, "Is this what you saw?"
Colby nodded. A voice called out, "Powering up!"
"What?" Charlie asked. The three FBI agents hurried over to another desk where a technician was staring at her screen. Charlie was right behind them.
"Where?" David demanded.
Pointing, the tech said, "3500 Wilshire – it's an internet café."
"Is that Don's cell?" Charlie asked. Megan nodded.
"Fifteen minutes," David said. "Fifteen minutes from here. Let's go, Colby!" Together they ran out the door.
"Transmitting," the tech added.
Megan leaned in close. "What's the number?"
"It's coming through now."
Charlie's cell phone rang.