Chapter Four: Extraordinary Improbabilities

Federal Agent Colby Granger scanned the brightly lit room. Several rows of hard plastic chairs were spaced across the area. Just inside the door a young blond woman sat, flanked by two uniformed policemen. One officer put his hand on her shoulder and she reached up and patted it reassuringly. A cop's wife, without a doubt. Granger shuttered at the thought of what that poor woman must be going through. He ran his eyes over the rest of the room's occupants.

Several more uniformed cops were scattered across the room. One of them looked up at Colby and nodded in silent greeting when he saw the letters emblazed across the FBI vest he still wore. Two very nervous looking young women, obviously shaken by the number of guns that they could see, had moved to the far end of the sitting area when he had entered the room. He spotted the senior agent in the far corner. Don was sitting on the edge of the chair. He was leaning over, his head in his hands.

Don's defeated stance brought all of Colby's fears to the surface. It wasn't uncommon for internal injury to result from stopping a bullet with your chest….even if it was halted by the best body armor on the market. It was still like being hit with a sledge hammer even with the vest to stop the bullet. Charlie's vest had stopped four. Four bullets fired at close range. He could see scenarios of broken ribs, collapsed lungs and internal bleeding caused by the blunt force trauma of four separate hits. He cautiously approached Don's chair. As silently as he could manage, Colby slid into the seat next to him.

Don opened his eyes at the approaching footsteps. He could recognize Granger's shoes as the younger man walked by and sat down next to him. Don didn't look up, but asked…..

"How is she?"

"Megan's fine. She has a mild concussion and needed a few stitches. There were some minor burns from the explosion, but nothing severe. She got lucky. They are going to release her as soon as they get her sutured up."

Colby looked closely at Don.

"Charlie?"

Don took a deep breath and lifted his head.

"He passed out in the ambulance on the way here. They took him straight back to trauma. I haven't seen or heard anything since."

Colby leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He could see Don was about to come unraveled despite his forced composure.

"Did you get your Dad?"

"No, he doesn't have his phone on, it went straight to voice mail."

Colby looked up at the TV in the corner.

"He'll call when he sees the news."

Don turned to the television.

"Dad doesn't watch the evening news."

Footage that must have been taken from the street just outside the alleyway was the lead story. It showed Don, FBI vest painfully visible in contrast to the white vehicle he was standing next to; while two EMT's loaded the clearly recognizable Charlie into the ambulance. The still burning truck could be seen in the far background of the shot.

The officer who had been standing next to the injured cop's wife reached up and adjusted the volume on the set. On the television, a middle-aged man with graying hair looked solemnly at the camera.

"The largest drug bust in California history. That's how we begin tonight. Good evening, I'm Tim Butler. A drug bust that turned into a police standoff has ended tonight. News 18's Janice Rochelle is live at the Port of Los Angeles. Janice, what can you tell us?"

"Well Tim, two LAPD officers and two federal agents were injured tonight in a shocking gun battle just yards from where I'm standing. The raid netted eighteen suspected drug runners. Eight suspects were injured, with four confirmed fatalities. None of the dead were law enforcement. FBI Special Agent Don Eppes, who headed the investigation, was unavailable for comment. The details of the injured officers conditions are not known at this time and their names have been withheld pending family notification."

Pictures of LAPD officers securing the crime scene filled the screen as the reporter's voice continued.

"Sources close to the FBI tell us over five thousand pounds of cocaine were seized. The drugs have a street value of more than two hundred million dollars. An undisclosed amount of cash was also confiscated, along with nearly two thousand pounds of marijuana."

"The DEA says this is easily the largest narcotics bust in California history. The bust was the result of a two week investigation by the FBI into the dramatic rise in reported overdose fatalities."

The reporter returned to the screen.

"And Tim, officers have told me they also seized a large quantity of a new liquid form of ecstasy called Blue Nitro, which has become the drug of choice among the youth of L.A. So, hopefully, this will make a large dent."

The shot returned to the anchor.

"Let's hope so, Janice. Thank you. Also today, the……"

The volume on the set was readjusted as the story ended and several sets of eyes in the room shifted to where Don sat.

His cell phone rang almost instantly. The LCD screen showed 'DAD'.

"Well, hell. I guess he does watch the news."

Colby stood up and walked across the room giving Don a supportive glance.

"My husband and his partner were shot tonight." The blond woman was speaking to him. "Two of your agents were injured too?"

"Yeah, one of my partners…and our…my…." he paused, not exactly sure how to categorize everything Charlie was to their team. He wasn't just a consultant. He was one of them, and Colby counted him as a friend. He swallowed hard.

"Yeah….we had two agents injured."

She stared at him, a look of sympathetic understanding passed across her face, and then she turned her attention back to the double doors that led into the hospital's trauma center.

Colby looked over at Don. He had finished what must have been a very short conversation with Alan Eppes. Don picked Charlie's bullet proof vest up off the chair beside him and held it tight to his chest like a child would hold a cherished toy.

The double doors opened and a middle aged man in a white lab coat stepped into the lobby.

"Anyone here for Charles Eppes?"

Colby and Don were on their feet instantly.

The doctor took in the scene. His eyes went from the uniformed cops across the room to the two men in front of him wearing the bold yellow letters on their chests that identified them as federal agents.

"I'm Dr. Harrison. Have you contacted his family?"

Don swallowed hard.

"Don…..Don Eppes…..Yeah….Yeah, I'm his brother. Our father is on his way."

Every soul in the room was waiting for the doctor's next words.

"Your brother is going to be fine. His vest distributed the trauma somewhat evenly over his ribcage. It's unusual to see so little damage from multiple contusions of this nature. He has a few broken ribs and some minor bleeding in the intercellular space, but there is no internal hemorrhaging, so the damage should repair itself in time."

The physician glanced at the black vest Don still held in his hands.

"Your brother is a very lucky young man."

Don smiled as he thought of Charlie's likely response to such a statement. Four shots fired. Four points of impact. And he was going to be fine. The improbability was mind boggling. Statistically, he was dead….again. Don almost laughed. The list of things they had in common was growing.

"Can I see him?"

………………………………

Don looked down at his brother. He looked so small….motionless, almost frozen. It was disconcerting to see him be so still. His brother was always in motion, his body in a constant battle to keep up with the velocity of this intellect.

Don's silence prompted Dr. Harrison to begin his explanation.

"He is going to be in a considerable amount of pain tonight. That kind of bruising takes time to heal and sudden movement will be difficult for a day or two. I'm assuming he will have someone to stay with him?"

"Yeah….um…is he…….has he?"

Don couldn't find the words he was looking for.

Dr. Harrison answered his unspoken question.

"No, he's sleeping now. We gave him a mild sedative to calm him down. His CT scan was clean, there's no further injury, but I wanted to wait till we got him calm and alert so we can access his level of pain before we hit him with any unnecessary analgesics. I want to keep him overnight for observation and then we'll go from there."

Don pulled a chair up next to his brother's bed.

"I'll be back to check on him in a while. Just buzz the nurse if he's in pain when he wakes up."

A few seconds after Dr. Harrison left, Colby stuck his head in the room.

"How is he?"

Don turned toward the door.

"He's out. I'm going to stay for a while….at least until Dad gets here."

"Yeah, of course. I'll let Megan know he's okay. I'm gonna take her home and then head back out there to give David a hand with clean up."

Colby pulled the door quietly shut and left Don alone with Charlie.

With a deep sigh of relief, Don leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

"You mad……at me?"

A small penitent voice almost knocked him out of the chair.

"Charlie?"

The implied sentiment of his brother's question was unnerving.

Don stared at him. Charlie turned his eyes away, looking at the foot of the bed.

"Please……don't……. be mad."

"Mad at you? Charlie! Why in the name of GOD would I be mad at YOU?"

Don couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was the one who had deserted his younger brother. It was his job to take care of Charlie…that job should have come first. But he left him alone and defenseless in a dangerous place….in the line of fire….he wasn't close enough to stop it….to protect him they way he should.

Interpreting the volume of his brother's reply as anger, Charlie kept talking.

"Tried….to stay…….in truck…..really did. SWAT team…….there….and…thing…blew up…… Megan…….back…..cops…everywhere…..thought… it…was over….."

His brother was on the verge of hysteria, his breath coming in ragged hitches between each word he spoke.

"Didn't….mean…it to …..happen. Just…don't…be mad."

For the first time in as long as he could remember Don felt he was on the verge of a meltdown. He knew if he spoke his emotions would break loose with an intensity he would have no control over. Keeping emotions in check….it had become his signature.

Stay strong Don.

He had become quite good at maintaining his feelings. Charlie had never really gotten the hang of it. Every sentiment, every change in mood or emotion was written plainly on his face. And right now Don could see the complete and utter torment in his brother's eyes, while he waited for condemnation from the one person whose approval he had been striving to achieve throughout his entire life. Don didn't speak. He just couldn't. Instead he took a deep breath and rested his forehead on the rail of his brother's bed fighting to maintain his composure.

You have to be the strong one, Don. Never let him see you cry.

………………

Charlie was stunned. Don wouldn't even look at him. His brother was hiding his face. Through the haze of whatever the doctor had given him, Charlie tired to find the logic in this. He knew Don was going to be angry. He remembered the unbearable pain that the simple act of breathing had given him. When he came to in the alley, he had thought he was dying until he remembered that his brother had put a vest on him. The pain was no longer unbearable. It still hurt like hell and every word he tried to say made it harder and harder to draw a normal breath. He wanted to continue his apology. Make Don look at him. He hadn't meant to get himself shot. He had unintentionally got in the way and he was embarrassed by the sheer idiocy and lack of common sense he had shown. Why in the hell did he walk back out into the open like that? He should have gotten back in the truck. Don told him to stay in the truck. If he had only listened, this never would have happened. But instead of the open wrath Charlie felt like he deserved, Don kept his head down, unspeaking. Charlie wasn't sure which was worse.

………………………………

Don took a few deep breaths.

Pull yourself together Eppes…..Charlie doesn't' need to see you break.

He lifted his head and looked at his brother. He met his uncertain gaze and Don shook his head at him.

"No….God, no. Charlie, I'm not mad."

He finished the thought in his head.

Scared shitless, yeah, but not mad.

Charlie closed his eyes again.

"Okay."

………………………………

Alan found both of his sons sleeping when the nurse led him into the room. She busied herself checking Charlie's IV and turned the volume down on the heart monitor that was beeping steadily. Alan put his hand on his youngest son's forehead. Charlie didn't stir. Don hadn't specified the circumstances or severity of his brother's injuries over the phone; just that there had been an accident. But he had seen the news and a shoot out between drug dealers and the FBI hardly sounded like an accident. The nurse had told him that Charlie would be fine and Alan was more than relieved to find the damage so minimal.

He picked the black vest up from the floor where it had slipped from Don's grasp. He couldn't keep his hands from shaking when he saw the four slugs still planted there. Since Don was still wearing his, he could only assume this vest had been on Charlie. How does a mathematician accidentally get shot four times while he happens to be wearing a bullet proof vest? Whatever had happened, he was sure Don was the reason Charlie had been wearing the vest that had saved his life. But if he put it on him, that also meant he was the reason why he was in the position to get four bullets in it.

He wanted to wake Don and demand to know how he had let this happen. He looked closely at his first born. Don looked so….beaten. He had a small bandage on his right temple and blood on his shirt collar. His sleeves were rolled up and Alan could see the scrapes across the back of his arms. His jeans were torn and looked singed. What had happened tonight? He didn't need an explanation to know that the likelihood of having lost one, or even both of his sons was on the high end of the probability scale.

This could have been……so much worse.

Alan said a silent prayer of gratitude and quietly took a seat across the room. An explanation could wait.

………………………………

"Hey Don? What are you doing here?"

David Sinclair took in his supervisor's ragged appearance as he entered the FBI bull pen. It didn't look like he had slept and he was still wearing the same clothes from the raid the night before. He'd never seen Don look so thoroughly unraveled.

"How's Charlie?"

"Surprisingly….pretty good. He's still in some pain, but he seems fine. He insisted on oral painkillers, so they took his IV out early this morning. Doctor Harrison wants one more x-ray, but he plans to release him this afternoon."

Don saw his friend eyeing his wrinkles clothes.

"Dad sent me home to change."

"And yet, here you are."

David eyed him tentatively.

"Yeah, I needed to stop by to sign a few things since I didn't make it back here after the…..you know."

Don's reluctance to finish his statement gave David a good idea as to the answer to his next question.

"How are you doing?"

He looked closely at the dark circles under Don's eyes.

"I'm……"

Don looked at his friend's inquisitive stare and knew it was pointless to be economical with the truth.

"I'm not sure."

Don sat down heavily at his desk, his voice scarcely discernible in the midst of the customary office chatter of mid-morning.

"I just…feel so…. .I should never have taken him out there knowing as much as we did about criminal activity in that area. I know that he's gonna be fine, but I can't get the image of what could have been out of my mind. The fact that they didn't have armor piercing bullets along with all that other firepower……"

Don's volume increased as he tried to verbalize his feelings of guilt.

"He blamed himself. He thought I was mad at him. He was waiting for me to rip him apart and he wouldn't have resented me if I had. He thought he deserved it!"

The memory of Charlie's woeful repentance at having left the truck was almost overwhelming.

"Did you see his vest? I kept it…I couldn't let go of it. The threshold for material failure drops with each impact. The backplate was this close to being compromised. It was too close. His chest looks like someone beat him with a two by four. When I saw him lying there I thought…….I just couldn't imagine how in the hell I going to tell my father that I had taken Charlie out in the field and gotten him killed!"

His tirade ended in an overwhelming finale of honest, raw emotion.

"I almost killed my baby brother…..David….he could have died!"

Don's last sentence hung in the air and several conversations around them ceased suddenly.

In the few years he had known Don Eppes, David had learned fast that he was not a man to disclose his feelings. If Don was going to crack, the office might not be the best place to do it.

"Let me take you home, ok?"

Don despondently got up from his chair and followed David to the elevator.