Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or the characters therein. Any character not found on the show is fictional, and should not be associated with any person- real or imagined.
David and Colby stormed from the room, pounding their way to the elevator and an early afternoon drink. They planned on taking a cab, as hard liquor would be their forte.
Megan exited after them, her features drawn and her body limp.
She drew her hand across her forehead, brushing away a few strands of loose hair. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the nearest wall, concentrating on breathing. She would have remained that way all day if she could have, but, unfortunately, she was forced back to her responsibilities by the voice of one of the only two people in the world she desperately did not want to see at that moment. Or, she guiltily admitted, at any time at all.
"Are you alright?" Charlie asked Megan.
Bracing herself, she opened her eyes but looked away from him.
"Yeah- I'm just a little tired."
Charlie felt sorry for Megan.
It had been nearly a month since the task force to find Don had been formed. Charlie felt certain that Megan had been sleeping very little ever since she had taken charge of the investigation into his brother's disappearance. She seemed to take it as her personal responsibility to find Don and bring him home safely.
This neither she nor her task force had been able to do.
There just wasn't any useful information. They had talked to every single informant they had in the greater Los Angeles area, even tapping the ones that the LAPD had on hand. Nobody had heard anything about Don, though more than a few had tried to take credit; but it was apparent they were lying, their statements as to when and how he had disappeared inaccurate, and, in many cases, absolutely ridiculous.
The physical evidence was no better.
The tire tracks had led nowhere. Thousands of cars were using that particular brand and size, as they were popularly sold at a mega-mart chain store. It was also impossible to narrow down the make of the car, other than they knew it was a larger-sized one, like a Cadillac or Lincoln.
As for witnesses- there were none. Most of the people in Don's apartment complex had been out on the Friday night that he disappeared. The others had been locked up tight in their apartments, not bothering to look out their windows at just the right moment. No one had noticed a strange car parked there the night of his disappearance, or at anytime during the week before. None of the tenants could even tell them what makes of cars their neighbors drove, as they were too wrapped up in their own lives to notice anybody else's.
As the case went nowhere, the members of the task force had become tired and disheartened. They had begun to feel that all they did was interview uninformed people, and then review over and over again the same pictures of Don's SUV, apartment, and parking lot. Slowly, less time was being spent on his case as others came in, the individual agents finding more and more reasons to be busy working on something else.
There had certainly been no magical break in the case; that is, until that morning. Megan- as task force leader- as well as David and Colby- as Don's team members- had been called into a meeting with Assistant Director Merrick and Director Donaldson.
Unceremoniously, Donaldson had announced the dissolution of the task force.
While everyone else in the room sat stumped, he proceeded to explain that Homeland Security had received confirmation from a 'very reliable international informant' that Don had been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered; all this was in retaliation for his killing of an assassin valued highly by the Columbian Cartel. The informant guaranteed that his body would never be found.
Relying on this vague information, the Bureau had decided to stop looking for Don, though Donaldson assured those present that the case would remain 'open'. As for Megan, David, and Colby- they would meet their new team leader at the end of the week. During the interim, they could work on writing and closing up the task force files.
Her throat dry, Megan tried to protest. Though she felt the task force had been voluntarily dissolved by its disillusioned members days- maybe a couple weeks- before, she still wanted to be able to work on the case herself. She felt obligated to the Eppes, and to her friend and colleague.
Megan was surprised when she was interrupted by a stronger and louder voice. Merrick was arguing heatedly with Donaldson- Eppes had been- was- one of his best men, putting his life on the line numerous times, living and breathing his job in full dedication to the Bureau. He did not deserve to be abandoned. The assistant director threatened to resign if the case was not allowed to remain active. Donaldson reluctantly agreed, not wanting the scandal Merrick's resignation would undoubtedly cause. Don's team members were given permission to continue their search; but their caseload would remain the same, which in and of itself would be effective in closing them down. The task force would be dissolved, and no one else would be allowed to continue to help- on that, the director was adamant.
Not satisfied in the least, Merrick relented; he knew it was the most they could get from Donaldson.
Colby, remembering his words to Charlie when Don first disappeared, inquired-
"What about the reward money? Shouldn't we have had a press conference and offered a reward by now?"
"Usually, yes, we would be offering a reward-typically thirty days after any agent of Eppes' stature went missing. Unfortunately, that will not be possible at this time."
The agents all made disapproving noises, as Donaldson explained-
"Unfortunately, we have had another person disappear in the Los Angeles area. That is the real reason I am hear- I will be making the announcement at 10:00 in front of this office building. I gather you have all heard of Tommy Larson?"
Immediate understanding washed over the agents.
Tommy Larson was a multi-millionaire playboy and media darling, the cameras seeming to be permanently attached to his personal caravan. He was also the only child of a certain deceased actor. The nation seemed to be waiting for him to take up the trade and become like his beloved father, who was also known for his philanthropist work worldwide. Everyone had high expectations for him- that is, everyone but the young man himself. He preferred to splurge his money on expensive toys and thrill-seeking physical ventures, bungee jumping off buildings illegally and breaking into amusement parks to climb roller coasters at night.
Tommy was spoiled- but loved- American royalty.
When the news was announced that he had gone missing, every media channel in the western world would be focused on the search to find Tommy Larson. They would also be targeting the L.A. office of the F.B.I., as his girlfriend had assumedly received a ransom note, the assumed kidnapping making the Bureau responsible for his safe return.
It was going to be a circus beyond compare.
As an indirect result, the disappearance of an unknown F.B.I. agent would no longer be worthy of a local newsletter, whether alone any of the major networks or newspapers; a press conference was out of the question. Nor could Donaldson offer a reward, because he could not risk tying up the phone lines with people trying to obtain the reward for Don, when the Bureau needed those lines for reports about Tommy. He had no other choice in his decisions.
The responsibility for finding Don Eppes now officially lay on the shoulders of his three friends and coworkers.
That realization had ended their meeting, and had sent David and Colby to the bar, and Megan into further exhaustion.
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Charlie followed Megan into the staff lounge and waited while she poured herself a large mug of black coffee. Not bothering with sweetener, she sat at a corner table, gathering the emotional strength she would need to apprise Charlie of the current setback. She considered waiting to talk to him at his home, where Alan would also be present.
Don's father's face decided for her. She remembered how he'd looked the previous time she had talked to him- so old and depressed, hopeful lines around his eyes settling into deeper worry when she had reported there was no news of his son, the sadness leaking from every pore in his body. She knew she would never be able to face him with the current news, both that the Bureau had given up on finding Don, and that an informant had reported him dead. It was going to be hard enough to speak to Charlie- better that he handled telling his dad.
Turning a chair around and sitting down, Charlie leaned his elbows on the back of the chair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns along the hard plastic. He could see that Megan was having a hard time saying something; he didn't want to pressure her because he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. So, he let her go at her own pace, letting her delay what he assumed was bad news as long as possible.
Taking a deep breath, Megan let it all out at once-
"Charlie, Homeland Security has indicated that Don was murdered, so Donaldson has resolved the task force and will be assigning a new team leader to me, David and Colby."
Charlie's hands stopped moving. A small tremor began running up his legs, reaching his mouth as he spoke, making his voice shaky-
"What does Homeland Security have to do with anything?"
Megan recounted what was said at their meeting with Donaldson. She ended by apologizing that the Bureau could not offer a reward or hold a press conference, explaining about Tommy Larson.
"But you and David and Colby will still be working the case?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes, Charlie," she confirmed. Much as she disliked doing it, Megan had to make him understand the seriousness of losing the task force manpower.
"But we'll be limited in what we can do. On top of Don's, we'll still be expected to work our regular caseload. This will decrease the amount of time we will have to work on finding him. We will not be able to go looking for new information- we'll have to rely on it coming to us."
Charlie's limp body language told her he understood. The only way they were going to find Don was if either he or his kidnapper walked into the Bureau office all on his own.
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It was a long ride down in the elevator for Charlie; he wished it could go on forever. That way, he would never have to face his father.
Alan already had a mistrust and loathing of the F.B.I., fueled by his experiences with the agency during protests he had attended in the early seventies. Charlie was sure that their abandonment of Don would set him over the top emotionally; he was already strained to the breaking point.
When Don had first disappeared, Alan and Charlie had assured each other that, with the best agents on the task force, it would only be a matter of a few days before he would be found. As the first week moved into the second- and then into the third- with no news forthcoming, those assurances were no longer spoken, as both Eppes men seemed to wander off into his own world to wait, limiting their contacts with their family and friends- people who tried to comfort, but whose questions only highlighted the fact that Don was still gone.
Wrapped up in his work, it took a while for Charlie to notice his father had started spending most of his time away from the house. He thought his father was working at his consulting business, much as Charlie tried to stay busy at school and in his garage, making time pass so it would quickly get to the day that Don would come home.
It wasn't until Alan's business partner had called several days previous that he began to get worried about how his father was occupying his time.Sam had informed Charlie that Alan had decided to sell his share of their business. He had confessed to his friend that the emotional stress of losing his eldest son was already too much for him, and it would be impossible for him to work. Sam was calling to inform Alan that the final papers were ready to be signed, but if he changed his mind, he would be glad to tear them up.
That night, Charlie had confronted Alan. His own emotions overwrought from the lack of information about his brother, Charlie had demanded to know where his father was going all day and sometimes most of the night, when he should really be at home in case Megan called with news about Don. Alan had sat hunched over the dining room table. He had quietly explained to Charlie that he could not remain inactive in the search for Don, and that he felt compelled to look for his eldest himself. Not knowing what else to do, his time was spent driving up and down the streets of L.A., desperately looking for his son's familiar face. Alan confessed that he knew it was crazy, but he couldn't think of anything or anyone else but Don, so he drove and drove and drove, some small spark within himself forcing him to action- no matter how pointless it appeared.
Charlie had stopped spending time in the garage after that talk. For the last few days, when he wasn't at work, he would join his father, offering a second set of eyes to look for their missing family member. In reality, he was keeping his eyes on Alan. Charlie was afraid he would lose him, too.
After he exited the elevator, Charlie was not paying particular attention to where he was going. He felt someone shove him in the chest-
"Hey, back exit, back exit."
Suddenly aware of his current surroundings, Charlie looked past the guard who had thrown an arm across his path, seeing a crowd of people gathered outside the front doors of the building.
There were over a hundred media personnel outside, microphones held high while they clamored to record the announcement of Tommy Larson's disappearance- and the hundred thousand dollar reward money that was being offered for information about it.
A cold chill ran through the core of Charlie's body.
Anger so strong seeped into him it was as if he had frozen stiff in a matter of seconds.
That damn worthless rich playboy who has never done anything good in his life had stolen his brother's task force, stolen his brother's press, and was now stealing his brother's reward money.
Charlie was tempted to charge through the glass exit doors of the building, screaming at the media that they were all uninformed idiots who were looking for the wrong man.
Instead, he strode through the back exit of the building on legs quivering with rage, his mind trying to filter the excess energy into a productive outlet. Jerking his car into gear, Charlie pressed down the gas pedal, lurching forward out of the parking lot and into the street, driving faster and faster down the road, his anger expelling itself through the pressure of his foot on metal, narrowly making several lights as he weaved in and out of traffic, until he had to slam on his breaks when a large truck blocked his path.
The burst of anger suddenly dying away and leaving him with a feeling of hopelessness, Charlie slumped in his seat. He looked forlornly out his window, waiting while the truck backed into a loading zone. His father- how would he react when he was given the news that the official policy of the bureau was that they were never going to find Don? If Charlie could just find some way to give his father a small slice, just a small sliver of hope- it would ease the weight of the Bureau's opinion.
Charlie noticed a small office on the corner across from his car. In large letters across the front window, it advertised itself as a missing-children's agency. The truck in front of him gone, Charlie spontaneously did a u-turn and turned into the agency's parking lot, nervously entering a side door and looking around.