Chapter Six
The next day Don entered the main office and went straight to his desk.
There sitting right next to his computer was the file he had been waiting on.
"Finally!" He muttered as he sat down in his somewhat creaky chair and grabbed the file.
Opening it up, Don muttered the top line of the file.
"John L. Picard. Suspected of drug dealing, assult against a child and terrorism."
After reading the first page, Don was sorely convinced that this John L. Picard belonged in the nut house!
Not just for his safety but also for the others around him.
"Hey Don." Megan greeted as she joined him at his desk.
"Hey Megan." Don replied as he rested the file on his lap.
Looking up at Megan he asked, "Learn anything new about the bullet?"
By the look on Don's face Megan could tell which bullet he meant.
"No. Ballistics are still looking it over. They should have some information soon." She replied.
"Good, good." Don muttered as he rubbed his index finger against his mouth while he thought back to his brother.
After Mystery Science Theater 3000 had ended, Don and Charlie had stayed up till 2:00 talking about what had happened at the house and at CalSci.
Charlie had made it clear that he did not want to go back to his classroom anytime soon, and Don couldn't blame him..
Heck, if he was in Charlie's shoes, he'd probably be as scared as Charlie!
When 8:45 rolled around, Charlie had come plodding down the stairs in his bathrobe, with a full head of bed hair.
Don had tried not to laugh at these two strands of Charlie's hair that stood straight up.
Charlie, who was still half asleep had no idea that his hair looked like this, so he calmly walked by Don and headed for his morning cup of coffee.
"That's another reason why you should cut your hair, Charlie." Don said as he continued to watch his brother.
Charlie placed his hand over his mouth as he yawned, before he said, "What are you talkin' about, Don?"
"You're hair! I mean, it looks..um..." Don said as Charlie looked at his reflection in the kitchen window.
For almost a minute Charlie stared at his wild and wooly hair before he nearly ran to the sink, splashed cold water in his hands and used the water to smooth down his hair.
Don smiled at the memory, unaware that Megan was still watching him.
"What's so funny, Don?" She asked as she got a look at the file Don had in his lap.
"Oh, it's Charlie. When he got up this morning, he gave a new meaning to the term 'bed hair.'." Don said.
"That bad, huh?" Megan asked.
"Worse! I should have taken a picture of it!" Don replied.
Megan chuckled when David ran in to the room hurridly.
"Don, Megan. Victor CarMichael has some news he's willing to share with us!" David said.
"Victor CarMichael...the drug lord?" Don asked, scarcely believing David's words.
"The one and only! He says he knows who's behind the latest attacks, and where the next one is going to take place." David said.
The attacks were bombings on local federal buildings. Terrorism had been suspected at first, but with the evidence provided, terrorism was finally ruled out.
Numerous times in the case, Don had wished that he could bring Charlie in, but the need to protect his brother was greater than the need to bring him in, so Don convienantly left Charlie out of the loop, in the hopes that in doing so, Charlie would remain safe.
"Great! Let's go talk to him!" Don said as he leapt up from his chair and went to the elevators, followed closely by Megan.
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A/N: Ok, the plot is progressing! I know the last couple of chapters didn't have much in the way of an onward plot, but it has changed.
Also, I know this was kind of a short chapter, sorry about that, but I wanted this chapter to be mostly about Don instead of having both Don and Charlie, so that's the reason it was so short.
Hopefully the next chapter will be longer. Also, from now on I will hopefully be adding some 'previews' of the upcoming chapters.
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Chapter Seven previews
Don gulped as the feeling in the pit of his stomach grew stronger. The feeling that told him he was in over his head.
Suddenly a door banged open and shots rang out.
One agent dropped to the ground, a bullet hole in his chest.
Alan looked sadly at his youngest son as he whispered, "Charlie, the phone call was about you're brother. He was shot."
"How bad?" Charlie asked.
Alan hung his head as he replied, "Bad."
"Hope you liked the show Eppsie, because you're next!" The assassin said to Charlie, who grew as pale as the white bedspread he lay on.
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