Authors Notes: Well, the unintentional blackmail worked and I have been inspired.

You are a fantastic support group. This is better than AA.

What step am I on? Oh well. Hope this does the trick.

Chapter Seventeen: Equitable Culmination

Charlie stuck his left arm over his head and let his body fall. He braced himself for the head long plunge into the alley, but the leg of his blue jeans caught on the window frame, successfully slowing the pull of gravity long enough for him to duck his head. He somehow managed to come down in a roll and narrowly avoided smashing his skull on pavement. He landed hard on his right shoulder and the rest of his body rolled out flat on the ground with a bone jarring thud. Every nerve ending he had screamed at the impact, waking up every bruised, broken or abraded surface on his body. Charlie lay on his back breathing through the pain and staring up at the tiny window he had just managed to tumble out of. What the hell were you thinking? God, you could have broken your neck. Through the open window a sudden eruption of noise pulled him out of his cloud and reminded him why he chose to take a head first dive out a window.

"….And now yours is too."

Charlie heard the door to the office slam against the wall as it was thrown open, Sandoval's voice echoing in the small room. Charlie started to lift himself off the ground, but before he could get to his feet a single gun shot rang out. He froze in his tracks. Seconds later Rick's disbelieving voice carried out the window.

"You shot Hank."

"Well, Damn it. I had to shoot somebody didn't I?"

Sandoval's answer prompted Charlie to keep moving.

"Get the car. I'll see how far he got."

Charlie struggled to his feet. You'd better run, Charlie. NOW!

With more speed than he thought himself capable of, Charlie took off down the alley toward the back of the building and emerged on the street behind the garage.

He didn't slow down, but took in his surroundings as he moved. Nothing looked even remotely familiar and Charlie felt an upsurge of panic as he realized he had no idea where he was. Where you are doesn't really matter 'cause you'll be dead soon if you don't go somewhere else.

Just down the street, a narrow alley beckoned and Charlie ducked into the entryway and stopped with his back against the wall. Back in the direction he had come from, a steady stream of gunfire erupted resonating through the narrow passages between the buildings nearby. It was close. Close enough to have come from the garage. Don. It has to be. You found the garage.

Charlie turned to step back onto the street, but he stopped himself. Looking longingly back the way he came. Don being where you were isn't going to help you where you are. Sandoval followed you and if he finds you he will kill you. His plan was to kill you. This isn't over yet.

Charlie stepped back into the alley and turned away from the sweet sound of several .40 caliber handguns being fired in succession.

He ran up the alley and rounded the corner into a run down industrial district. Crossing the street, Charlie spotted a dumpster sitting just inside another alley. He slid into the shadows behind the dumpster ignoring the barrage of smells that assaulted his senses. As his original surge of panic passed, Charlie's shoulder reminded him of the fall he had taken from the window. It had been surprisingly numb during most of his flight and the new wave of pain, coupled with the returning sensation of agony in his broken arm was almost overwhelming. Charlie put his back to the wall and involuntarily slid to the ground. As gingerly as he could he pulled his tattered denim shirt off and tried to wrap it around his arm. Just need to rest for a minute. He tried to take his mind off the throbbing pain in his arm and his mind instinctively began its customary reaction to exhaustion, fear and pain. Numbers and symbols started their parade across his consciousness trying to block out the reality around him. The minutes ticked by and he felt himself slipping into his own world. What the hell are you doing, Charlie? Resting. Just resting. No. You're not. You're hiding. You can't hide forever. You've spent your whole life hiding. You've got to get out of here. Now get up!

With a mental effort of monumental proportions, Charlie pulled himself away from his numbers. They'll still be there when you get out of here. Stand up. Now!

He pulled himself to his feet and glanced into the street. No one in sight. Good. Now go. Dropping his shirt next to the dumpster, Charlie pulled his arm tightly to his chest and ran down the street, past a hardware store and into a much narrower passage that ran between two of the buildings.

………………………………

Don started cautiously up the street searching for any evidence that his brother may have fled in that direction.

"He'd have known they'd come after him. He probably found a place to hide."

David walked up behind him.

"Don, he may not be thinking clearly."

"No, but he doesn't know this area, or which way to go for help. If he knew Sandoval was after him, he'd try to stay out of sight."

Don paused and almost smiled.

"He's always been pretty good at that."

The team spit into pairs and started out across the intersection, weapons drawn and ready. They moved in silence at a fast past down the street, scanning the narrow passages that ran between each set of buildings.

Megan motioned into the next alleyway. Don nodded and followed her past the garbage cans that littered the entrance. This passage emerged into an industrial area that had definitely seen better days. Megan was scanning the entrance to yet another alley when she saw it.

She waved frantically at Don.

"I've got something here."

At the corner a familiar lightweight denim shirt was lying discarded on the sidewalk. It was ragged, torn and stained with what could only be blood. Charlie's blood. Oh God, Charlie where are you?

Don nodded to Megan and they started down the alley toward the next street, but a noise from behind them stopped Don in his tracks. He tugged Megan's arm and turned back to the street. Crouching low and staying in the shadows, he headed back the way they had come. Peering into the road, he could make the profile of a tall figure scanning the street. Don stepped back. Even in the poor light, he recognized the man from his picture. It was Ramón Sandoval. He was looking for something. Someone. He's looking for Charlie.

The gun in his hand announced his intentions. Don resisted the urge to charge out of the alley and open fire on this monster, which fifteen minutes ago he had held responsible for the death of his little brother. He'll still kill him. If he finds him. Yes, but running out there now could get you and Megan both killed. He has the advantage. Don't forget who you are, Eppes.

He pulled back into the alley and put his back against the wall.

"Dispatch, we've got a visual on the suspect corner of…."

He looked for street signs, finding none.

"About four blocks west of Colyer. Requesting back-up."

Megan snuck up beside Don and peered around the corner.

"He's moving."

The man had reached the end of the street and took a right, exiting into a small passageway between two buildings. Don and Megan moved crossing the street to follow.

Seconds later a gunshot rang through the air, followed by another.

Reacting instinctively, they both hit the ground to take cover.

David's voice crackled over the radio.

"Shots fired! We've got shots fired, Alpha One what is your location?"

Don started down the street at a full run. Any consideration for his own safety was quickly forgotten. If Sandoval wasn't shooting at David and Colby, that only left one other person.

"Megan, he's not shooting at us!"

Without responding to David's call, Megan bolted after him and Don rounded the corner into the narrow passageway just a few steps ahead of her.

………………………………

Charlie moved down the small passage. The opening between the two buildings housed several fire escapes as well as a small flight of stairs that led down, to a basement door. He picked his way down the steps and tried the knob. Locked. Figures. Charlie resisted the urge to sit down on the steps. Not yet Charlie. You just can't. Need to find a phone. Need to call Don. He warily stayed on his feet and moved back up the stairs, re-emerging into the passage. He heard a slight shuffle to his left and jerked his head around to see Ramón Sandoval. He had just rounded the corner and looked surprised to see his prey standing in the open, in an alley. And there was no where to run. The gun in his hand looked like a cannon to Charlie as its wielder lifted it and took aim.

Waiting for his life to flash before his eyes, Charlie was pleasantly disappointed. Instead of the overwhelming fear that he had expected to face moments before he died, a surge of anger filled him instead. I've made it this far. This is not how this is supposed to end. This is not how I'm supposed to end. I still have things to do. His feet wanted to turn and run, but his anger anchored him in place. No. If this bastard is going to get his way, then he doesn't get to shoot me in the back. I won't go down like that. Not after all of this. Charlie shifted on the stairs to face his would be executioner head on, his feet balanced on the top step. Without a word the man flashed Charlie a rueful expression and shrugged his shoulders. Then he re-aimed his weapon and fired two shots.

………………………………

Authors Notes: Not quite done yet. I may need longer than usual to finish the next chapter, so hang in there! Can't wait to hear what you think…but you all know that by now! Thanks again!

Next Chapter: Existential Absurdity