Chapter 2
Somewhere along the line, on the way from the hangar to the car, Don got a hold of himself. His head cleared somewhat and he assured Megan that he could walk on his own. She watched him warily, of course. Most likely she didn't trust him.
Don walked over to the car.
A tingling sensation annoyed him. Something wasn't right here. A chill ran down his spine.
The car was empty.
Megan came up behind him and saw what he was staring at, which happened to be Charlie's empty seat.
Don stood there, looking into the car, his mouth hanging open.
Charlie was gone. Just gone, just like that. The only sign that the young professor hadn't simply got up and walked away was the small patch of blood on the pavement next to the car.
Megan took a few steps closer, but Don was hardly aware of her. One thought pounded through his head, over and over again.
Charlie was gone. Charlie was gone.
Charlie's gone, Charlie's gone, Charlie's gone, Charlie's gone-
Shut up!
"What happened?" he heard himself ask, even though he knew Megan didn't have the answer.
"I don't know," she said. "I told him I was going to find you and then I didn't hear anymore from him after that." She eyed the earpiece sitting on the dashboard and the cockeyed way the laptop had been set down on the edge of the driver's seat. "Either there was somewhere he needed to go in a hurry, without being able to communicate with anyone, or someone didn't want him to communicate with anyone."
Don clenched his teeth in growing anger. This could not be happening. It was so simple. A simple operation.
Of course, this wasn't the only thing about this operation that hadn't turned out to be simple, but this was by far the most troublesome thing.
Troublesome? TROUBLESOME? What are you saying? It's beyond troublesome! Your brother is gone, without a trace, and all you can think to say is that it's troublesome?
Don looked down at the blood on the concrete and considered being sick. His face must have showed it when Megan glanced at him because she tried to make him sit down. "The next time you tell me that you don't know if you have a concussion, I'm going to take that for a yes," she said, frowning when he wouldn't move.
"No, I…" His hands turned into fists. "Where did he go? Who took him? Megan, this is Charlie we're talking about here! We have to find him!" The world spun briefly for a few moments before settling restlessly.
She watched him worriedly, biting her lower lip. "I know, Don," she said, trying to calm him down, but it wasn't working. She was too concerned for Charlie's safety to be convincing and besides, Don was not going to be calmed down.
He wasn't.
Not while Charlie was gone.
Colby appeared at that moment, jogging over to them, his face smudged with dirt, dust, and smoke. "What's going on?" he asked, peering into the empty car. It took a moment for the significance of that to sink in. He spotted the blood on the sidewalk. "Dang. Where the heck is Charlie?"
"That's what we'd like to know," Megan replied grimly. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the emergency number, moving away from Colby and Don as she started talking. Colby studied the scene and glanced at Don.
"You okay, man?"
No! No, I'm not okay! Someone kidnapped my brother and I want to know who the heck it was so I can go out and kill them! "Not really, no," he managed, trying at the moment to not explode on someone who didn't deserve it.
Colby cocked his head. "You don't look okay."
"Would you be okay if someone had just kidnapped your brother while you were in the middle of being ambushed?" Don snapped.
"No." Colby was serious now. "Sorry, Don. I didn't mean to, to, aw, you know." He touched Don's shoulder hesitantly. "Don't worry. We'll find him."
"I know." But it was hard to know in a situation like this, when all hope seemed lost before it had even been found, when they knew nothing, when there was no chance of anyone having seen Charlie's captor or captors… "I know. We're going to get him back. It's just a matter of time."
He was trying to convince himself more than he was agreeing with Colby. The latter nodded slowly.
"Yeah… We're going to find him."
Don straightened, gathering his mental faculties about him. This was going to be difficult. Normally Charlie helped them determine potential suspects. But now Charlie was the victim here…
The knowledge didn't sit well with him at all.
Megan returned from her phone call, giving him a suspicious look. "It's not a concussion," he insisted. "Just a bump. I think I would know if it was more than that."
She shrugged. "If you say so." She glanced at Colby. "The emergency backup is on their way. David was getting the paramedics."
"There he is," Colby said. David made his way over to them and came to an abrupt stop when he saw their faces.
"I'm not sure I want to know what just happened," he said slowly, looking between them.
"Charlie's gone," Colby and Megan said together. Don couldn't make himself say anything. The knowledge that someone had taken his younger brother was kicking in again at full force and he wasn't sure if he could handle it at the moment.
He was going to explode…
David blanched. "He's gone? Like he left, gone? Or like somebody's holding him hostage, gone?"
Megan glared at him. Colby shifted uncomfortably. Don ground his teeth.
God, this can't be happening…
"Gone as in someone's holding him hostage," he muttered, surprised that he'd even been able to speak. "Gone as in I let him talk me into coming here just so he could get endangered by some lunatic who decided it was a prime time to hold a college professor hostage! Gone! God!"
They were all looking at him, different emotions on their faces. David looked a little ashamed from having reintroduced the subject with so little tact. Colby looked ticked off, though it was unclear whether he was ticked off at Charlie's kidnapper; David; or some unnamed person. It was probably Charlie's kidnapper. That's who Don was furious with, besides himself, that is. Megan looked worried, and determined as well. It was her determination that fanned the tiny flame of hope.
Hope. There's always hope. Keep thinking of the hope, Don. Charlie's your brother. These people are his friends. You're his friend. Who better to find him than his friends?
Charlie… Charlie!
"Don?" It was Megan, repeating his name. He was staring past her, breathing heavily, angry. "Don, we're going to find him. I promise."
He tried to push his emotions away. But it was so hard… Charlie was his brother… It was different to be emotionally involved in this. "I know we are," he said bleakly. His friends stood around him, waiting for him. He was their team leader, and together they would find Charlie and beat the crap out of whoever did this to him.
Within the realms of justice and legality, anyway…
At least when people were watching…
We're going to find him. We're going to find you, Charlie. Just hang in there for a little while. We're going to find you…
Don was the FBI agent again.
Anything less just wasn't him.
It was dark, so very dark…
Charlie suddenly had a new and very strong dislike for the dark.
He moved his head from side to side, but it didn't change what he could see. His hands were tied painfully tight behind him, encircling some rough, round, wooden object of some kind. A pole, a column…it fit the right dimensions, as far as he could tell…
Don? Don, where are you?
But suddenly he remembered. He remembered what had happened and why Don wasn't there. He didn't even know if Don was still alive…
What a ridiculous thought! Of course he's still alive! What's the matter with you?
But the statistical probability that he might die is significantly higher than that of the average US citizen…
That's because he's trying to protect the average US citizen…
Just don't even think about it, Charlie. Don't think about it.
Don…I wish you were here. I'm a little bit confused at the moment as to where I am and why exactly I'm here.
"Ah, good afternoon, Professor Eppes," came a pleasant voice. Charlie started. It was the voice of the man who'd found him in the car, but different at the same time: calmer, more relaxed, yet as alert as ever, perhaps even more satisfied than before.
"Who are you?" he called into the darkness. He heard an amused chuckle.
"No one so important that you need to trouble yourself with knowing me," the man said, a note of teasing in his voice. He was evidently so pleased with how things were playing out that he sounded cheerful.
A pair of rough hands brushed Charlie's face and he drew back sharply in fear. The hands jerked him back and yanked at something in back of his head. Blindfold.
The darkness peeled away to reveal dim light. Charlie blinked, unused to it. His eyes hadn't even finished focusing before the blow came, a backhand across his face. He gave a startled gasp. The taste of blood filled his mouth.
"I believe you'll remember I mentioned that I've been told I'm trigger-happy," the man said. Charlie raised his head slightly, squinting, trying to make out the specifics of the man's features. Nothing looked even remotely familiar. "I think you'll find that that description really applies to everything I do. If I start beating you for no apparent reason, try not to take it too personally. It's just the way I am." Another slap across the face emphasized the point. Charlie flinched, his skin stinging.
"Why-," he began, but the man cut him off with a patient gesture.
"Perhaps later we can address the reason that I have brought you here," he said in that same pleasant voice. "Yes, perhaps later. Certainly not right now. I have much more important business to attend to. At least I think I do. I'm technically insane, you know. It's been proven." He smiled.
Shivers went down Charlie's spine. A man who was either a very good actor/liar, or frighteningly aware of his own insanity…both were not looking so good. Those hands moved toward him and he moved his head away, anticipating another blow, but none came. Instead, the face came closer, close enough to Charlie could see detailed features clearly.
"Try to think of a good reason why I would let you see my face like this," the man said softly, holding Charlie's gaze with his penetrating own. His eyes were hard and cold.
The only one that came to mind was one that Charlie did not really want to contemplate.
Either he's an idiot, or he's so confident that you'll be dead before anyone finds you that he doesn't care if you see his face or not.
DON!
Don was not there, but in a moment, the blackness was again, and the only sound in the room was that of footfalls as the man departed from the room and closed the door behind him. Charlie heard the click of a lock and despaired.
That lock was akin to the last straw, if you know what I mean. It wasn't as though he could have done anything even if the door hadn't been locked, but still…
Charlie was afraid.
(A/N: Sorry that this chapter was so much shorter than the last one. I'm working on trying to figure out where I'm taking this plot. Hope you liked it though!)
