Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or any character therein. Any character appearing in this story is fictional, and should not be associated with any other person- real or imagined.
Author's note: I have Colby quote Ren and Stimpy- do not own copyright to them, either.
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Melinda watched Bob walk all the way back to his house. After he entered his front door, she leaned forward, staring through her kitchen window, her eyes sweeping across his property; she saw the front bumper of the agents' standard-issued car peeking out from her neighbor's back yard.
Bob had visitors.
He never had visitors.
Except his grandson, who didn't own a car.
Well, they're finally here, she thought.
It was now clear to her why Bob had demanded to see her son; he had wanted the people at his home to be able to see his face in order to identify him.
She was not upset, having been expecting them from the first day the old man had talked to Donny; she was actually surprised that it had taken this long for them to show up.
Old man must be a little senile, she thought, or he would have recognized him sooner.
Then again, she hadn't seen any signs notifying people of Donny's disappearance when she visited the business section of Alta Sierra, the only place her neighbor would hitch a ride to whenever he needed supplies. And, he did not have satellite television- cable wasn't accessible in their remote location- so he would not have seen the ads that she had first noticed in between a few late night shows.
In any case, somehow Bob must have seen an ad or flier, and believed that her son was who they claimed him to be, bringing in law enforcement.
Melinda knew she would have to make preparations for when they finally came, figuring she had at least the rest of the night in which to do so; they would first have to get a search warrant, then gather a crew of law enforcement personnel- most likely F.B.I., as they would call it a kidnapping- and then develop a tactical plan- all in order to come and steal Donny from her. She knew she was located several hours from the L.A. Bureau office- the travel time to where she lived gave her that much more time to get ready for them.
Before walking out of the kitchen, she looked across to Bob's house once more; she caught the glint of light that worked off the binoculars that were being held by David, who had continued to observe Melinda's home…
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David, who had continued to observe Melinda's home after he and Megan had hugged, finally put down his binoculars.
"Don't think we're going to see him again."
Megan nodded in agreement.
"I'm going to call Colby- we need him to get our procedural paperwork started- I want it available by the time we're physically set to infiltrate that house."
She opened up her cell phone and hit Colby's number on speed dial.
"Granger."
"Hey, Colby- this is Megan"-
She stopped short, realizing that this was not the best way to inform Colby about finding Don. He had been working as hard as she and David to track down the tips; it might not do to tell him something so important over the phone, as his two colleagues had been able to lean on each other when the emotional relief hit. Colby would have no one from the team with whom he could share that first response. He might even resent not having been invited on their trip.
Regretting that she would have to do so, Megan knew she had no choice but to tell him this way: they needed him to get the search warrant for Dr. Thompson's house. The procedure would take time, so she needed to get it started as soon as possible. Any fallout that occurred between their team members would have to be dealt with later; she trusted Colby was professional enough- and selfless enough- to carry out the necessary work at his end, even if it meant delaying his arrival in the field.
"Look- are you alone?"
Colby took in Megan's conspiratorial tone, and, after an extended pause, answered in the affirmative.
"Sit down and keep what I am about to tell you to yourself."
Megan gave Colby a couple moments-
"We found Don."
She heard a loud suck of breath, then a slow release-
"Are you sure- it's really him?"
Before Megan could reply, his hushed voice over the phone-
"He's alive, right- otherwise… you wouldn't be calling me with this news?"
"No- he's alive. Only, he's being held captive."
She could picture Colby thinking about this situation-
"What do you want me to do?"
Megan was glad that, despite the emotional turmoil he must be going through, Colby was able to focus on the task at hand.
"First, our location is a small town called Alta Sierra, approximately one hundred seventy miles northeast of Los Angeles-takes a little less than four hours to get here. The suspect's name is Melinda Thompson- that's with a p- she is presumably keeping Don under duress. We are going to the local police station; David and I are going to swear out a statement to that effect. We will fax it to you within the hour-it will be enough for a search warrant. Take the fax to U.S.D.A. Nadine Hodges- I don't care how you track her down- just do it. She knows Don- which means she'll work harder and faster to work the warrant through the proper paces."
"Okay- no problem. After we get the search warrant- can I bring it up personally?"
Megan smiled, as she had expected the request-
"Yes- but you'll have to wait to come up with the field teams."
"Good enough- that way I know I won't miss the action. What about Atwater- should I notify him? He is, unfortunately, our current leader."
Megan did not need to think about his question- she had already decided to contact Merrick and ask to keep the position of lead investigator. The first reason was because she wanted to personally be the one to arrest the woman who was holding Don, and the second reason was simply because Atwater might just screw things up; Megan had much more faith in David, Colby, and herself.
And in any other agent, for that matter.
"Don't say anything to him- I'm going ask Merrick to remain lead investigator. He can talk to Atwater about it."
"Doubt your request will be denied- our inspiring boss hasn't done any serious field work with us yet, and doesn't seem to want to any time soon; don't think he'll complain if Merrick officially assigns you."
"Which is good," Colby added, "Jerry-boy's clicking would probably give our positions away."
Though they couldn't see each other, Megan and Colby shared a smile.
"Last question, Megan- who's going to tell the Eppes?"
So wrapped up in planning the initial details of legally raiding the house next door, Megan had completely forgotten Don's family.
"I think- uh, maybe it would be better if we waited until we have Don in our custody. As a matter of fact, I am going to relay orders that this action is highly classified- only those who are directly involved in the field operation should be informed; Charlie has contacts in the Bureau- you know, a lot of people like him- and I don't want him finding out about this operation from a sympathetic agent. He and Alan might come up here on their own prerogative and try to get involved. We don't want civilian casualties if an altercation should ensue."
Megan could practically hear Colby working her words over in his mind-
"Fine- but you make sure to let them know it was a direct order from you. I like Charlie and Alan- I don't want to do anything that would make them not like me."
"Don't worry-I'll take full responsibility for any decision that is made concerning Don from here on in. Just wait for my fax and be prepared to go- no matter what obstacles we face, we are going to rescue Don tomorrow."
Clicking her cell phone shut, then open again, Megan called Merrick on his private cell line- he had given it to her when she first became lead investigator on Don's case.
The assistant director's phone range twice before he picked up.
Megan explained the situation in a monotone voice, wanting to make sure he did not take her off the case citing emotional involvement.
Merrick was not adverse to allowing Don's team members to be part of the rescue operation, as they had been working the case from the beginning, so it only seemed right that they be there for the arrest. However, he did not want Megan acting alone, as he knew that her personal involvement in the case might cause her to make rash decisions- despite her attempt to sound detached on the phone-so he insisted on her incorporating a safety net by including an associate group.
"Reeves, you can be agent in charge of the operation, but you'll have to call in a S.W.A.T. team and adhere to their recommendations. You will be the one directing the operation, but your decisions must be based upon their plan of approach. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." Merrick was assigning Megan the job of giving the orders; but he was bringing in the F.B.I.'s Special Weapons and Tactics team to determine what those orders would be. As agent in charge, however, Megan would be able to assign team roles- so she could be lead when entering Thompson's premises, and David and Colby could be her direct backup. This would allow them the opportunity to be the first ones to Don.
Thanking him, Megan shut her phone and told David what Merrick had said, adding-
"We better get to the police station. Once we send that fax to Colby, we need to start coordinating our efforts with the local and county police, as well as with S.W.A.T."
The agents thanked Bob and Jimmy, getting promises from both men to keep their knowledge of Don to themselves, and warning them to stay away from Dr. Thompson- they would send someone to keep surveillance on her property soon, and the troops necessary for Don's rescue would arrive the next day. Jimmy promised to keep his grandfather under lock and key, the old man making faces and rolling his eyes behind his grandson's back.
Twenty minutes later, Megan and David walked into the Alta Sierra police station, flashing their badges and gaining access to the tiny office of the chief of police.
"How can I help you," he asked the federal agents pleasantly, surprised at their presence in his small town.
"I need access to your fax machine..."
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"I need access to your fax machine, Granger."
Colby stood up straight, military-style, his face carved stone as he stared the other agent down, explaining-
"I'm waiting for an important fax- you'll have to use someone else's."
"It'll only take a minute- and there isn't someone else's to use. They're doing some kind of re-wiring throughout most of this floor- I'd have to go to another floor to find another machine. Just move aside, and I'll be done real quick."
Noticing the agent was holding a package of papers- at least twenty pages- Colby refused to move, crossing his arms and telling the agent-
"Then, go to another floor. You-are-not-using-my-machine."
Infuriated, the agent brushed past Colby- but the ex-military officer stood his ground, the push of the agent's shoulder against him no more than the feeling of a fly on his arm.
Sitting back down, Colby thought about the news he had received from Megan earlier.
He was disappointed he had not been with his partners when they had found their team leader- former team leader, he thought sadly- but was glad that he could play a vital role in his recovery. Having been taught well by his previous boss, Colby knew the importance of obtaining the proper paperwork in executing any field operation. This had been a hard lesson for him to learn- and one, he had to admit, that on occasion he continued to conveniently forget.
He just had difficulty in asking for permission in every decision he made, something he did not always have to do when he had served in Afghanistan. It wasn't that the military did not have its own rules and codes- had plenty; but when you were stuck out in the middle of a sand dune with bullets whizzing over your head and with no contact from your superiors, you tended to make up the rules as you went along- do what you had to in order for you and your buddies to stay alive. Or die with dignity- because the one rule you never broke, or ignored, or conveniently forgot- was the code of honor.
With the Bureau it was different, because what they were trying to keep alive was not just each other or potential victims; they were also serving as the life support system for the prosecutor's case. The 'keeping each other alive' part made it easy to maneuver in the field without needing directions for every step an agent took; but the 'judicial system' part made it difficult in deciding to walk at all.
When Megan had called and Colby had first heard the tone of her voice, he had decided to find a place where he could sit in complete privacy; he had made an obvious choice, sitting in a bathroom stall. Afterwards, he had stepped out into the hall and gone to his desk, where he was currently sitting while he stared at the fax machine as if doing so would make it start to print.
"Hey, Colby" came from behind the agent, making him start in his seat.
I am not going to turn around, because this has got to be the worst timing in the world of bad timings.
Despite what he was thinking, Colby did indeed turn around- to face Charlie Eppes, who was staring at him.
"Did you eat something bad for lunch," he asked the flustered agent with concern, "because you're looking a little pale?"
Colby willed his saliva glands to start working, his mouth dry and hard to move.
"No- yes, no- maybe, I'm not really feeling that well at this moment. Was thinking of going home- you need something, Charlie?"
"No, no- I don't want to bother you. I just brought over a few more tips- some of them even seem remotely feasible."
Don't bother- don't worry- feasible doesn't concern us anymore- actual does, as in we actually know where Don is.
Colby let these thoughts slide around inside his head but not out through his mouth, as he was mindful of his orders from Megan.
"Good, Charlie- and it is never a bother. I'll put them in with my current file on Don." He did not add that he would be acting on the tips, as he wanted to keep any lying he did to Charlie down to a minimum. "Well, I guess I better be…"
Colby was half-standing, as if preparing to leave, when he slowly reversed his direction, sitting down sullenly into his chair when he saw Charlie unexpectedly grab a seat across from him and also sit down- presumably to talk.
Presumably to talk about Don.
Oh, happy,happy, joy,joy.
"I really appreciate everything you guys have done to try to find Don," Charlie said, his mind somewhere else, oblivious to Colby's discomfort. "All the tips you've followed up, the evidence you have gone over- again and again." The young professor shifted in his chair, his whole body suddenly sagging, his eyes downcast as he tried to express what he was feeling. "I just, you know- it's awful, I know I shouldn't feel this way, or-or, even let the thoughts cross my mind; it's just, that it's been- you know, over two months now…"
Sliding his eyes up to meet Colby's, Charlie misinterpreted the uneasiness he saw in the other's eyes and the sadness on his face.
Quickly, he apologized-
"I'm sorry Colby- I don't mean to lay a guilt trip on you- or lay anything on you at all. It's just- I can't talk to Dad about the way I feel- he would probably freak. And, Megan- she tends to analyze me; as for David- Don and he are just alike, all serious and concerned, talking to me like a kid. Larry's great, but sometimes- I don't want to make it too complicated or deep. I really just need to say it out loud- get it out into the open, without anyone judging or lecturing me. I just want a simple answer, and you tend to be pretty straightforward"-
"After all this time, do you truly believe there is a chance of finding Don?"
Colby sat with his ears at attention, listening sensitively to every word Charlie was saying to him, but knowing the underlying, unspoken question was what needed answered most: Charlie was not asking Colby do you believe, but was actually asking himself- do I still believe? And Colby was positive that answer would become critical to Charlie over the next twenty-four hours, because he would never forgive himself for having doubts so close to the time that Don was actually found.
Reflecting on what Charlie had said, Colby tried to reassure him-
"What I think is not what matters-the most important question has always been- do you still believe that Don will be found? Because this entire investigation has been driven by your total and complete faith that your brother is still out there. And I still see that faith in you- even with every little word you say- like, when you just compared David and Don, you said they 'are just alike'. Well, if my F.B.I. training has taught me one thing, it is this: as long as you are using the present tense when referring to a missing loved one- in your heart and mind, you continue to think of them as being alive and accessible."
Patting Charlie on the shoulder, Colby reaffirmed-
"It's when you start referring to them in the past that indicates you've given up- and in all these weeks, you've never done that when talking about Don- not even once. It's that unshakeable faith that you have that is going to bring your brother home to you."
Colby waited for Charlie to decide if what he said made sense.
Hell- I'm not sure if I made any sense.
A slow smile trickled up Charlie's face as he straightened in his seat.
"You know, I was beginning to doubt if I still believed, but you've convinced me- no matter how little progress we're making, I do believe we're going to find Don; I don't know-it hasjust been so exhausting and stressful- I guess I wanted to make myself lose faith- maybe I thought it would be so much easier to give up than to spend my life continually searching."
Standing to leave, Charlie announced forcefully-
"But you're right- I haven't lost my faith- and, even if it is harder to keep living this way, I'm not going to stop- not today, not tomorrow, not ever."
The fax machine on Colby's desk started to print thirty seconds after he shook hands good bye with a rejuvenated Charlie...
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A rejuvenated Charlie walked up the front stairs to his home just as the night stars began dominating the sky, shooing away the last remnants of the sun. He greeted his father, who sat on the front porch moving back and forth in one of two rocking chairs. Sitting in the other, Charlie smiled at his father.
Alan smiled back-
"You seem to be in the best mood I've seen you since…" Alan looked away, "Well, it's just good to see you smile, that's all."
Both men sat silently, enjoying the company of the other, till Charlie gently blew away the silence-
"I went to the Bureau earlier," he whispered, the words barely more than fluttering thoughts, "Colby made me feel like the keeper of the faith."
Alan turned to his son-
"You are Charlie- you don't give yourself enough credit. You're too used to Don taking charge and saving us; well, this time, you saved us"-
Alan leaned across the arm of his chair, leaned in toward his son-
"and I know, because of all that you've done, Don will be saved, too."
Charlie did not respond, just let the warmth of his father's words enshroud him.
They continued their silent companionship, the creaking of the chairs matching the duo rhythms of their hearts, until the air shifted and a cool breeze began to blow-
"I'm going inside- it's suddenly chilly out here," Charlie stated, shuddering as he leapt out of his chair.
When he tried to go around Alan, his father caught him by the arm.
"Stay with me, Charlie- the fresh breeze is a good omen- it means there's change in the air. And we've been praying for that change over the last two months…"
Charlie sat back down in his rocker, feeling the cool breeze excite his nerves so that goose bumps appeared, tinged with anticipation…
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Goose bumps appeared, tinged with anticipation, on the arms of Megan, David, and Colby. It was late in the afternoon the day after Don had been identified. They were waiting behind the darkened windows of a black van, two blocks from Dr. Thompson's home, waiting for the S.W.A.T. team leader to crackle in Megan's ear the go-ahead for her to begin directing their field operation. Their goal: rescue Federal Special Agent Don Eppes and arrest Dr. Melinda Thompson on charges of kidnapping a federal officer of the government of the United States.
There were four other black vans parked along the road, as well as an ambulance, and an unmarked car containing U.S. Assistant District Attorney Nadine Hodges; she had insisted on being present so that she could verify all prosecutorial procedural safeguards were in place.
Six blocks behind the caravan, county police blocked the road; another six blocks past their target home, local police blocked entrance. A command post was set up in a neighbor's police-vacated home- Bob's proximity to Thompson's home negated using his, much to his disappointment- where the S.W.A.T. commander was going over the surveillance pictures that had been taken early that morning; they were sent to him through his computer. Looking at the screen, he spoke to Megan through a mike at his mouth; she was looking at the same pictures on a computer in the van.
"The two surveillance teams we sent in have not observed any apparent booby traps- or any other surprises -within the perimeter of Thompson's property. Once we have an all-clear, you can make your approach."
Megan replied with an 'affirmative', while the tension in her shoulders and back started to stiffen her joints; she rolled her shoulders, trying to ease up.
"Okay- I think we're pretty well set. We have two heat signals- comparing their locations to the house plans, it appears we have one person in the living room and one in a bedroom- should be the first room back. Is there any last thing you need to tell the troops, Agent Reeves?"
Turning the switch on her mike so that all personnel could hear her, she lectured-
"We are about to get the go ahead from our S.W.A.T. commander. Final orders: we do not want Agent Eppes to get hurt. From what we saw earlier yesterday, he is alive and healthy; I'd like him to remain in that condition. We have not developed a complete profile on Dr. Thompson as of yet- so, as usual, be on your guard. Also, be careful of Agent Eppes- he has been observed roaming free on the subject's property, yet has not contacted family, friends or police. So, we may be dealing with a case of Stockholm syndrome- he may have developed a feeling of loyalty to Thompson- which means, he may decide to defend her. We do not know if he still has his gun nor do we know if he would use it in protecting her. Be cautious of both Thompson and Agent Eppes- but do not use force unless absolutely necessary."
The L.A. office had done some background on Dr. Thompson, but Megan had not had time to thoroughly read the information, as it had taken almost every minute of the last twenty-four hours to get the search warrant and the teams to their location. From what Bob had told her about the fear- terror- he had seen on Don's face, she did not want to leave him in that house- one more day, hour, minute or second- longer than necessary. What was important about Thompson- that she had no history of violence, and no weapons registered in her name- had determined the S.W.A.T. commander's decisions in their approach to Thompson's home.
Megan would properly profile Thompson once Don was safely returned to his family- the latter had to be her priority.
Switching to talk to the command post one-on-one again, Megan informed them that she was done.
"Okay- we have an all-clear from our surveillance teams. You have permission to go."
Megan again switched her mike to address the team members, telling them to check their gear once last time.
Double-checking her own gear, Megan ordered her troops-
"Let's go."