A/N - We are getting close to the end. It will be after the holiday before I can get the next chapter up, but it will be worth the wait. All of the real action happens in the next chapter.
There are only a couple of days left to vote for your favorite stories in the FF Numb3rs Awards so after you read this go vote for all of your favorite stories and authors.
Happy Easter Everyone.
Alice I

Chapter Forty-Four

As the van carrying Alan, Trip and the others left the safe house in China town they decided to take a winding course through the streets of China Town before heading south down to the Japanese Village. After snaking through the narrow streets there the van turned north once again and took the most round about way that was conceivable up to the Twin Towers Correctional Facility.

Alan started to feel a little nervous as they pulled up to the guard house of the parking structure. As a city planner he had actually worked on this facility and was familiar with it.

The Twin Towers Correctional Facility is a unique complex built on ten acres of land with buildings that contain just under one and a half million square feet. The facility derived its name from the fact that it consisted of two towers, a medical services building, and the Los Angeles County Medical Center Jail Ward. The towers house maximum security inmates and a large portion of the county's mental health inmates.

"Why are we here?"

Trip didn't answer Alan as he leaned over Agent Warner who was driving to hand some papers to the guard who checked the papers against something he had on a clipboard. The guard leaned his head into the driver's side window to look at everyone in the vehicle then asked for everyone's identification. All of the agents pulled out their NSA identification badges and Trip asked Alan for his driver's license. The guard took these documents and stepped back into the small guard house at the gate.

He made a phone call and was obviously reading off all of the names of the agents and their ID numbers. After a few moments he reached into a drawer and pulled out two sets of keys then stepped back out to the van and handed back the papers, the ID's and the keys.

"Go to level four and park in slot 428 B-side. There are two black Cadillac Escalades with tinted windows waiting for you."

Agent Warner thanked the guard and proceeded into the parking structure. Once he found the parking spot that he had been assigned to, he pulled in and parked before turning and handing one of the sets of keys to Agent Paxton. They all got out of the van and Trip took the suitcases and Charlie's satchel and tossed them into the back of one of the Escalades

Alan looked at the vehicles with an approving nod. "The NSA likes to travel in style."

Trip looked at Alan and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Well, these are just loaners, but they are nice. The main reason for these; are the tinted windows that also happen to be bullet proof."

Alan suddenly found himself looking around nervously, but Trip stepped over to him and reached up to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I seriously doubt anyone will be taking a shot at us anytime soon. If we were tailed here, which I don't believe we were, then the mob hit man will be sourly disappointed to find that you and Charlie have been moved to a maximum security facility. There would be no way for them to get at you if you were really staying here."

Alan frowned at the agent and asked the obvious question. "So why aren't we staying here?"

"This facility doesn't have guest accommodations, and I don't think you want to be surrounded by maximum security prisoners and mentally unstable inmates."

Alan had to grin wryly at this. In retrospect it seemed like a rather foolish question. Trip turned his attention to his agents.

"Bill you and Jim contact Rodgers and Webber and take over the surveillance on Saborgia. They need to report back to Headquarters for re-assignment. Matt and I will head over to Huntington so Matt can take over for Polo and Wilson."

"You know about Donnie?"

"Yes we know about your older son. We can not justify the fact that there are ten agents working in Los Angeles so our team is taking over all aspects of this operation. We'll rotate through the different shifts. There will always be two agents on Saborgia and with you and Charlie. We will all rotate through shifts at Huntington to maintain a guard for Agent Eppes… Don."

"We're going there now? I can see my son?" Alan couldn't keep the hope out of his voice.

"How long has it been sine you have seen Don, Mr. Eppes?"

"Too long!" Alan replied, with a wide and eager smile.

It had only been five days but it felt like an eternity had passed since he and Charlie had left the hospital with Megan to go to the first safe house. Alan thought about all that had happened over the course of those days that had brought his family to the place they were now. He had to remind himself that when he saw Don he would be unconscious with a skull fracture and probably look far worse off than when he saw him last, yet even that realization did not dampen his excitement at finally being able to see his boy; to look at him and touch his face.

The drive to Huntington was made in silence as Alan sat deep in his own thoughts. Neither Trip nor Matt spoke; feeling the need to give the elder Eppes a few minutes introspective peace.

Alan found it difficult to wait patiently outside Don's room at the isolation ward desk while the NSA agents spoke quietly. He could just see his son through the large glass window from the desk and all he wanted to do was go and see him. After what seemed an interminably long time Trip, Matt and an agent that he did not know stepped out of Don's room and came over to him.

"Mr. Eppes, Let me introduce Agent Polo. He and his partner have been keeping watch over Don the last couple of days."

Alan shook the tall man's hand and said, "I thank you deeply for taking care of my family. I can never repay you for taking care of my boy, but I do appreciate it."

"There is no need to thank me sir. Both my partner Devon and I were more than willing to come and help. You will be happy to know that the doctor told me this morning that Don has shown some signs that he could wake up soon. He had a CAT scan this morning and the swelling because of the skull fracture has decreased significantly so they are hoping that he will regain consciousness soon."

Alan turned to Trip with determination in his voice. "I want to stay here until he wakes up. Your people know where the safe house is and I will go back after my son regains consciousness. I do not want him to wake up surrounded by strangers."

With that Alan walked passed the agents and stepped into Don's room without looking back at them. Trip stared after the older man and sighed before looking back at Marco and Matt.

"I can see where Charlie gets that stubborn streak."

The other two agents smiled as they looked toward the hospital room door.

"I seriously doubt that there is anyway I am going to get Mr. Eppes to leave until his son wakes up, so Matt I'm going to need you to call me when he's ready to go. Marco you and Devon have to get back to Baltimore. There have been some new developments concerning the Barabbas file."

Agent Polo raised his eyebrows at that statement.

"I'll go collect Devon and we'll be on the next flight out."

"Go to the hanger, there is a plane waiting to take you, Devon, Rodgers and Webber back to Baltimore."

"I'm on my way. We never even got a chance to see Charlie. How is he holding up?"

"He looks beat, but other than that he is doing fairly well."

Agent Polo nodded and turned to leave. Matt and Trip stepped over to the door of Agent Eppes' room and peered inside. Alan had pulled up a chair beside the man's bed and was lightly stroking his hand while speaking to him. They stepped back and Trip gave final instructions to Matt before heading back to the car.

When Alan entered the room his heart jumped at the sight of his oldest son lying so still. He had a large pressure bandage wrapped around his head. He had an IV line in each arm and the soft whirr of the VAC bandage seemed to fill the quiet space of the room. He pulled up a chair so that he could sit next to his son's bed and lifted his hand into his own.

"Oh Donnie, I am so sorry that you have been through all of this. I miss you terribly and I want you to come back to me now. Can you wake up for me son?"

Don didn't answer but he must have been dreaming for Alan could see his eyes moving under his closed lids. Alan realized that Don wasn't going to just wake up because he wanted him to, so he sat back still holding his son's hand and kept his vigil. He spoke to him in a soft voice; talking about the times when he and his brother were young. He reminisced about Don's years playing baseball, and how much he missed all of them together as a family.

Agent Warner poked his head silently in the door and listened for a moment to the older man's soft litany of memories before stepping back out into the ward and taking a seat at the isolation desk.

There were four isolation rooms in the unit and all of them formed a half circle facing the unit desk. There were two nurses stationed at the desk but they paid no mind to the NSA agent. They had become used to their presence on the ward. None of the staff knew who the man they guarded was. They had been told that he was listed as a John Doe and that his true identity was known only to the men watching him.

The hospital administrator had approved this man's transfer from where ever he had come from and had given strict instructions to the entire isolation staff to keep quiet about their mysterious patient. The first two days that he was there they spoke in whispers to each other about who this man was, each speculation more incredible than the last but they had finally tired of their curiosity and settled down to the routine of caring for him and working around the guards assigned to him.

When Trip arrived back at the safe house Charlie was already hard at work behind the screens that they had moved over from the front apartment. Charlie was alarmed when Trip entered without his father and Trip had to explain quickly where Alan was and that he was all right. Charlie had started to hyperventilate when he didn't see his father but quickly got himself under control. Trip was concerned by this behavior and without knocking he followed Charlie behind the screens of his work area.

"Charlie, what's going on with you?"

Charlie hadn't expected him to follow him and spun around quickly at the sound of his voice.

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

Charlie sounded a little too defensive and Trip focused on his young friend.

"Charlie, you had a rather overblown reaction to me walking in without your father. You automatically jumped to the conclusion that something had happened to him without taking into account my calm demeanor. You are acting in an illogical manner and that has me somewhat concerned. Charlie, you're not acting like yourself, so what's up?"

Charlie rubbed a hand over his face and sat down.

"The last couple of months have been kind of stressful. So many terrible things have happened that I feel like I am in a perpetual state of waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Charlie hesitated for a moment, unsure how much he wanted to reveal to his old friend. That is when it suddenly occurred to him that Trip was his friend. He had been so secretive lately that a part of him felt like he was losing his true identity. He didn't lie to his friends and family, but he had done a lot of that over the last few days. He sought out help when he needed it because it was the most logical way to solve a problem but he had been shutting everyone out so that he could move ahead with his plan alone and unaided. He made a decision at that moment to tell his friend what he could and hoped that it might relieve some of the pent up stress that had been bogging him down.

"I have been having a problem with anxiety for quite a while now; ever since this case started actually. The attacks got to the point that I had to be put on medication, but I stopped taking it."

"Why, Charlie? Wasn't it helping you?"

"It worked well for keeping the anxiety attacks mild, but the medication clouds my thinking. I am still working on this case. My father does not know this nor do most of the agents in the Bureau. David Sinclair and Megan are the only ones who know what I'm doing here."

Trip looked around Charlie's work space seeing the strings of post-its snaking along the privacy screens. Like David he got an odd feeling that the post-its were a strange apparition of the dragons painted on the other side of the screen. They seemed to form several different winding lines that were connected at one end and seemed to branch off into several different directions at the other end. Some of the winding lines had tributaries that stuck out almost as if they looked like appendages of some weird multi-bodied serpent.

"What are you doing here, Charlie?"

"I'm trying to find the FBI informant. I can't afford to have my thought process clouded at this point. I need to find this answer and find it quickly before anyone else gets hurt."

"Charlie, I want you to listen to me now. The FBI no longer has anything to do with the protection of you or your brother. The informant can't leak information that he doesn't have access to, so you don't have to stop your meds. You will still find the answer Charlie, I have no doubt of that but if the medication helps to keep you calm then start taking it again. Besides if you don't I'll tell Bob Thompkins."

Charlie looked startled by this last statement. It almost sounded like a childhood sort of threat. 'I'm telling Dad on you!' Charlie understood the implications of what Trip had said, however.

Bob Thompkins had stuck his neck out to help Charlie and apparently Trip realized this. The agents that were here now were here in an official capacity, but the four agents who had been working for the last few days out here had been 'under the radar' and Bob would have to explain that at some point. If Charlie was purposely not taking care of himself after Bob had done so much for him it would be poor payment indeed to a friend who was there for him when he needed him.

"All right Trip. I'll go back on the meds."


It was nearly seven o'clock in the evening and Alan had dosed off while sitting next to Don's hospital bed. Don slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the florescent lights above him. He had no idea where he was or how he gotten there. He raised his hand to his head and felt the heavy bandage covering it and noticed the IV line taped to the back of his hand. He thought back to the last thing he could remember.

The memory came to him slowly as if he were peering through a gossamer sheet at something hidden behind a scarcely transparent veil. He remembered talking to someone… Colby. He was sitting on the edge of a bed… a hospital bed talking to Colby. What had they been talking about? He couldn't quite remember.

A woman, they were talking about a woman, but it wasn't a good memory. This woman was bad, she had hurt people… she had hurt him…

It was as if a burst of flame had flared and burned up the veil covering his memory. With a crashing jolt everything came back to him. The case… The FBI killer… Charlie…. She took Charlie… She abducted him… She used a knife and cut open his chest…

Don brought his had to his chest and felt the VAC bandage there. Shelly Arbury had done this to him, but she had been arrested. She had mob contacts. She arranged a contract to have Charlie and him killed. Colby was keeping guard over him and they got up and walked to the bathroom. This was where things started to get fuzzy. Don had the strong impression that something drastic had happened. He remembered a loud sound and a concussion of force slamming into the back of him but after that it was a complete blank. Colby was behind him… he must have been protecting him from something.

"Colby!"

Don hadn't even realized that he had said the name aloud until he heard his own raspy voice. There was movement at his side and he turned his head. His father was sitting beside him.

"Hey there; you're awake."

His father looked worn and tired. He looked so much older than he had when Don had last seen him. When was that? Don realized with a surge of panic that he had no idea how long he had been unconscious or what had happened since the lights went out.

"Dad, where am I? Where's Charlie? Where's Colby?"

"Whoa, slow down, son. You're at Huntington Memorial. Charlie is fine and still at the safe house. How are you feeling?"

Alan had purposely not mentioned Colby. He wasn't sure that his son needed to deal with that just now.

"How'd I get here?"

"Megan and David had you transferred over here a few days ago. You took a fall and cracked your skull pretty badly. You have been unconscious for three days now. I'm going to go and call the nurse."

"Dad, wait. What happened? How did I fall?"

Alan hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should tell Don. He had a serious head injury and was just waking up after three days. Don saw this hesitation and spoke.

"Dad, please just tell me the truth. What happened? Where's Colby? Is he all right?"

Alan knew that his son would not rest until he got answers and he couldn't blame him. If he were the one lying there he would want to know what was happening. Alan sighed and took a hold on Don's hand again, stroking it softly.

"Donnie, there was an explosion; someone threw a grenade into your room at the hospital."

Don's eyes opened wide for a moment then a look that was a mixture of desperation and fear flashed across his face.

"Colby… Is he… Did he die?"

"No, no Donnie, he's alive but he was badly injured. He saved your life. If he hadn't covered you with his body you would have died."

Don looked around and asked, "Where is he?"

"He's at Cedars Sinai… in the burn unit."

Don looked crushed by this news. "Oh, God. How is he doing?"

"I honestly don't know. Charlie and I haven't seen him. We've been at the safe house this whole time."

"But… what are you doing here then?"

"Donnie, that's a long story and right now I want you checked out by the doctor. We can talk later."

Alan got up to leave but turned back to his son.

"You are listed as John Doe here and that is how they want it to remain. Everyone including you bosses think that you died in that explosion. Do you understand?"

Don's head was spinning as well as throbbing horribly but he managed to nod his understanding. Alan stepped out of the room and was immediately greeted by Agent Warner and a young female doctor.

"I saw that he had woken up and went to get the doctor." Agent Warner said.

"Shall we step inside?" the doctor said, as she held open the door to Don's isolation room.

They all stepped inside the room and Don's looked startled.

"That was quick."

The doctor turned so that both Alan and Don could see her face before speaking.

"My name is Doctor Audrey Spinner. Megan Reeves is a friend of mine and she explained the situation here. She called me the night that the bomb went off at County and asked to have Agent Eppes transferred here under the name of John Doe. The hospital administrator and I are the only ones who know who you are Agent Eppes. Everyone else only knows you as John Doe."

She turned her full attention to Don.

"I want to examine you and I will probably order another CT Scan to check on the skull fracture and the brain swelling. How does your head feel?"

"Like an off tune rock band is playing at full volume."

"Well after the tests and my examination, I'll see if I can give you something to help with that. Do you hear any ringing in your ears?"

Don shook his head no and immediately regretted the movement.

"Try not to move your head around like that, Agent. It will only increase the pain. I know that you have many questions and they will be answered but not until I have finished with you. I have to contact the Radiology department to set up your scan so I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your father. Visiting hours are almost over and he will not be able to see you after hours. Agent Warner I'm sure can answer any questions that you may still have about this situation."

Dr. Spinner didn't wait for an objection from either of the Eppes men as she strode out of the room and over to the unit desk outside the room. Don wasn't sure he wanted to go through twenty questions right now anyway. His head felt like it was splitting in two but he didn't want to see his father leave either.

Agent Warner stepped out of the room as well to give them some privacy. He also went to the unit desk and used one of the phones there to call Agent Niagara. Ten minutes later Alan also stepped out of the room as Dr. Spinner entered to examine Don. By the time she had finished her examination Agent Niagara had arrived to pick up Alan who reluctantly left with him.

Charlie was still hard at work when they arrived back at the safe house. As soon as Alan walked into the apartment Charlie shot out from his work area with an expectant look on his face.

"Did you see him? Is he all right? Has he woken up yet?"

"Hold on there Charlie! You and your brother are just the same in some respects. Yes, Charlie he is awake and is doing well. I was only able to talk to him for a few minutes before I was told in no uncertain terms to leave, but the doctor looking after him seems very competent and she is a friend of Megan's."

Charlie sagged with relief at this news. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he sat quietly talking with his father for a while before retreating back to his work.

The next four days passed in a blur for Charlie. He now had two main focuses of his investigation into the financial dealings of the DiBenedetto family. Anthony Saborgia's files were as easily accessible to his hacking as were the patriarch of the family's but the convoluted path that the money took was staggering. It was not a wonder that none of the federal agencies were able to pin a money trafficking or tax evasion charge on these men. Their accountants were experts in laundering and hiding large sums of money.

The DiBenedetto family's accountants had never dealt with Charlie, however, and his single-minded obsession to find both the FBI informant as well as clearly tracing the steps and processes that the family money went through in order to come back to them in a tax deferred status was a force they couldn't imagine.

What Charlie found through his mapping of the money flows both shocked and pleased him. Saborgia has been embezzling money from his uncle for over four years. He did this in a very clever way that was nearly undetectable. He never touched DiBenedetto's principal moneys. Using a three tiered pyramid scheme he had been siphoning off the interest in the overseas accounts to the tune of nearly four million dollars or roughly a million a year.

There was no way that DiBenedetto's accountants would have caught this as the interest rates fluctuated practically on a daily basis. The reason this pleased Charlie was he now had a better plan than blackmailing DiBenedetto. Blackmail is illegeal and Charlie had never liked the idea of breaking the law to this extent. He would do it if he had to but now he had the information on Saborgia and decided it was a far better plan to broker a trade; the information on a traitor for their lives.

Charlie also found five accounts in Los Angeles that money was deposited into on a quarterly basis. He was going to hack into the banks associated with those accounts but decided that if the FBI wanted to use this information to arrest the informant then they should investigate the matter with a legal warrant to back them up.

He called David on the cell that Bob Thompkins had sent him and told him to go and check his e-mail for the account numbers and the banks that they were associated with. If one of those accounts led back to an agent then they had their informant.

David was beyond thrilled by this news because nothing they had tried had turned up any leads on the informant and both he and Megan were about at their wit's end. The agents watching Saborgia had still seen no sign of Pretoria or any sign of a federal agent visiting. There was very little chance that the informant would personally deliver information but Megan was getting desperate and Charlie's information gave her a solid base to work from.

The accounts that Charlie sent to them as well as enough of the money path to prove legally that the money came from Saborgia led them to some rather surprising results. Two of the accounts led to LAPD officers who had been on the force for decades. One belonged to Federal Judge, one to a lawyer and the final one led to an account in the name of Daniel Peterson.

David did some more checking and found out that the name and social security number on that account belonged to Daniel Peterson who was born November 18, 1997 and died February 12, 1999. This was the deceased son of William A. Peterson. That is why checks into the financial background of Bill Peterson turned up nothing. He was using his son's name and social security number. Apparently Peterson had set up the account as a simple savings for his son shortly after he was born and had never closed the account after his death.

Over the course of the next twelve hours Megan with the approval of the Director and Assistant Director pulled all available agents onto the investigation and they complied enough evidence to issue four arrest warrants. They were unable to touch the lawyer as he was listed as the official legal council to Saborgia's estate and the money being deposited was his official salary that was being claimed by the lawyer and taxes were being paid on that income.

Charlie burned all of his information onto a disk then made a copy. The copy he sent to Robert Thompkins via certified mail with a letter. The letter read:

Dear Bob,

This disk shows all of the money flows in and out of the
country for the entire DiBenedetto family. It turns out that
Alto DiBenedetto's nephew has been embezzling money
from him for years now. I am going to trade this information
with Alto DiBenedetto for the contract.

This is the only way to get this contract off our heads.
The Federal government can not protect us. Don is an Agent
and I am far too well known to be placed in witness relocation.
This is the only way.

This is a copy to have in safe keeping. I know that you will
disapprove of what I am doing but I need you to keep this
safe in case something happens to me.

By the time you get this either I will be dead or this whole
thing will be over with. If I am killed use this information to
keep my brother and father safe.

Charlie

Charlie gave the package to Trip and explained that it needed to be sent by certified mail to Bob Thompkins. That it contained the files that Bob was expecting from him and not to ask him questions about it.

He dumped all of the files off of his hard drive and then used the data scrubbing program to wipe all evidence of his work off of the computer. He took down all of his post-its as well as the pages from his notebooks and papers with calculations and tore them up into tiny pieces before flushing them down the toilet. He ran the shower to hide the sound of the toilet flushing several times.

He had spent nearly a full two hours tracking down a phone number for Alto DiBenedetto. The cell phone company that DiBenedetto paid a monthly charge to proved to be a more difficult system to hack into than any other system he had dealt with thus far.

Once he had the number he waited until his father, Healy, Trip and he had sat down to dinner. He ate quickly and kept the conversation a light as possible considering that the topic was the arrest of Bill Peterson, Judge Kenneth Delaware and two decorated LAPD officers. Everyone congratulated Charlie on finding the evidence that put these dirty cops behind bars and even Alan had expressed how proud he was of his son once he got over the shock of finding out what he had been doing all this time.

Charlie excused himself from the table saying, "I've been working on this non-stop for so long now that I can't even remember starting. What I want now more than anything is to sleep for the next twenty-four hours so I'm turning in. Don't bother to wake me for breakfast; I'll eat when ever I get up."

With that Charlie headed for his room and closed and locked the door. Then he went over to the window and looked out at the darkening sky as street lamps began to flicker to life in the deepening twilight. He carefully opened the window and stuck his head out looking around. There was a fire-escape that led down to the alley below. He could see no movement at either end of the alley and decided that it was now or never.

He hoisted himself silently through the window and landed cat like on the fire-escape. He silently made his way down to the alley below and took a moment to lean up against the building peering around cautiously before heading to the end of the alley. There was an opening between the buildings that was in full view of the street and he scanned the area for any watchful agents before darting across the opening to the rear of the next building.

Once he made his way to the end of the next building he pulled the hood of the sweatshirt he had on up and walked casually out to the street and turned right so that he was walking away from the restaurant below the safe house.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to make his way to Union Station. In front of the station centered in a long walkway was a large sundial. Short white walls lined this bricked walkway and Charlie hopped up on the wall to the right of the sundial and took a seat on the grass under a palm tree. Then he pulled out the cell phone and dialed Alto DiBenedetto's number.

Charlie's heart was racing as he waited for the line to pick up. He had done as Trip asked and resumed taking the anti-anxiety medication and was now very glad that he did. It was all he could do at this moment to keep from collapsing in a shaking heap when a deep male voice said "Hello".

"Alto DiBenedetto?"

"Who is this, how did you get my number?"

"I have information that you want. Someone that you trust has been stealing money from you for a long time. I have proof of this embezzlement. I want to make a trade. Meet me at the sundial in front of Union Station in thirty minutes."

Before Alto could say anything Charlie hung up the phone and switched it off. He leaned back against the tree and looked around. The station was still fairly busy but no one was around the front of the building. The car park was off on the other side and there was not much foot traffic. He wanted this meeting to take place in privacy but he also wanted it to be public enough that he could call for help if he needed to.

Now it was just a matter of time. He was sure that DiBenedetto would come, and he prayed that he would be ready. He started taking slow deep breaths and counting as he sat waiting. This ordeal was going to end; for better or for worse it would end tonight.