a/n - thanks to thebondgirl for being my part time therapist.

Things are becoming borderline on the ratings scale with this chapter. I don't believe it would deserve a M rating and I've read more graphic descriptions under a T rating.

Chapter Two: And Then You Blink

"Please tell me that's coffee."

Robin grabbed the cup from Charlie's hand and took a sip.

"Oh, and it's good coffee."

With a bewildered laugh, Charlie shook his head.

"It's a little watered down from the rain. But, have some coffee, Robin. Please, help yourself."

She gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. We were running late this morning…"

She stifled a yawn.

"…..and your brother makes terrible coffee. Do you want it back?"

She completely missed Charlie's perplexed look as she gathered the papers from her desk, still drinking the coffee. He hadn't realized until that moment what an intricate part of Don's life Robin had truly become.

He contained his bemused smile and shook his head.

"No, no. You go right ahead…..I'm hyped up enough with out the extra caffeine. I was looking for Don."

She grabbed her briefcase and rushed past him as she spoke.

"I need to head on in. Don's waiting downstairs. He was going to bring the de Gattás kids up for me."

"I must have just missed him when I came through the lobby. I was going to sit with Frankie, while Marcus gave his testimony."

She stopped suddenly in the doorway, turned and walked back to him. She handed him the now empty coffee cup, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Charlie."

She brushed her dark hair behind her shoulders and flashed him an excited smile.

"This is the kind of case that makes the history books and the testimony of these two boys is going to tip the scales in our favor. If we get a conviction, it means we can go after the entire street gang and not just the individuals. This could completely redefine the way gang related crimes are prosecuted."

She quickly turned and headed out the door, walking past her receptionist and into the hall.

"See you in there. Don't be late."

Charlie stood in the center of the Assistant United States Attorney's office, holding an empty styrophome cup and laughing at her unconcealed enthusiasm. If that lady couldn't make his brother happy, chances were no one could.

He shook his head, tossed the cup in the trash can by the receptionist's desk and headed for the lobby to wait with Don.

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Don stood in the atrium style lobby of the new Spring Street Courthouse, taking in the remarkable structure of the building. He was in awe of the twenty eight story view to the offices above. He knew Robin's office was up there somewhere. He'd have to find out which one. Standing off to the side of the main security checkpoint that separated one half of the room from the other, Don turned his attention to the security team as they checked in visitors. Since the events of September 11th, the security of federal buildings became so high a priority that The Department of Homeland Security had created The Federal Protective Services for that purpose alone. The FPS was now responsible for law enforcement and security in most federal buildings across the nation. The state of the art metal detection equipment beeped as each visitor passed through. When someone would forget to empty their pockets, it would emit a loud, long buzz that got the attention of every FPS officer in range of the sound. Don checked his watch just as Agent Travis opened the front door to the lobby. Right on time. Marcus and Frankie followed him in out of the rain, with two more men right behind them. Despite the steady downpour that had begun the night before, none of them were carrying an umbrella. Not that he could say much. If Robin hadn't reminded him to grab a raincoat, he'd still be soaking wet. Don watched the three agents escort the two boys to the security checkpoint and Don couldn't help but wonder if he was that obvious. You could tell these guys were Feds from a mile away.

Frankie shook the water out of his hair and then waved enthusiastically in his direction. Don started to wave back, then realized the boy was waving at someone behind him. He turned and spotted Charlie making his way across the room.

"Hey, Don."

They watched as the group started through security.

"Hey, Charlie."

First an agent.

"You owe me a cup of coffee. Starbucks."

Then a kid.

"And why is that?"

Another agent.

"Because a certain lawyer I know says you make terrible coffee and she doesn't have the heart to tell you. So I've been commissioned to bring her a decent cup of java every morning for the rest of your days as a cohabitating couple."

The other kid.

"You may be at it for a while, then."

Charlie stopped and tilted his head. Raising his eyebrows at his brother.

"So, you two are getting serious then, aren't you?"

Agent Travis was the last to pass through the check point.

As Don stepped toward the group, he smiled mysteriously and then answered Charlie over his shoulder.
"I'm thinking, yeah….maybe we are."

Don extended his hand to Agent Travis.

"Sam. Any problems?"

"Not a one. Except some number thing that Frankie's been trying to get me to solve all morning. I can't make heads or tales of that one."

Glancing proudly at Frankie, Charlie's face broke into a smile.

"It's really pretty basic, see. You have a list of numbers set in a definitive pattern………."

Don shook his head and good naturedly cut him off.

"Math lessons later, Professor….."

He turned to the two boys.

"If you guys are ready, they're expecting us upstairs."

"We aren't going to……see them in here, are we?"

Marcus looked from Agent Travis to Don.

"I really don't wanna see 'em out here…you know…..before I get to say what I gotta say."

Don clasped the seventeen year old by the shoulder.

"Marcus, the cell blocks have their own entrance and secure hallways lead to and from there……to the courtroom and back again….so except during your testimony, you will never come face to face with these guys. In the courtroom, they are fully restrained and are under armed guard at all times. And we…."

He gestured to the other three agents.

"will be right there. The whole time. So everything's cool. Ok?"

Marcus nodded.

"It's cool…..I'm cool."

He paused for minute.

"Um…Agent Eppes?"

Don's forehead wrinkled as he turned back to the young man.

"Yeah."

"I gotta go……you know….I need to……"

Understanding the urgency in his voice, Don nodded and stopped near the restroom door just before the elevators.

"Right."

One of the other agents entered the restroom. Moments later, he stuck his head back out.

"It's clear."

Marcus hurried past him into the bathroom.

Don turned his eyes to Frankie.

"If everyone else is in good shape, we'll meet you up there."

The boy shook his head.

Agent Travis put his hand on Frankie's back.

"Come on, kiddo."

The youngster nodded and walked with the agent to the elevators.

"You comin', Charlie? I mean……Mr. Eppes?"

Flashing Don a quick smile, Charlie nodded at the boy. The elevator doors opened and a small group of people departed and walked past them toward the front exit. Charlie hurried past the group and followed Frankie and Agent Travis into the elevator. As the doors closed, Don felt a fleeting moment of apprehension rise up from somewhere in his unconscious mind.

He was here in an unofficial capacity. He wasn't even wired. The FBI had it's own division of Victim/Witness Services that provided protection for a victim or witness that they had reason to believe was under threat of harm. But as Special Agent in Charge of the criminal division of the Los Angeles branch of the FBI, he still held rank and that meant he was the agent in charge, even if it wasn't his department. He turned to the VWS Agent standing next to him by the door.

"Agent Rawlings, right?"

The younger man shook his head in affirmation.

"Stay sharp, ok."

The agent perked up, keeping his eyes on the crowd.

"What?"

"I don't know yet."

Don's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The lobby was milling with people. The building held fifteen district courtrooms, all of which were likely in session today. There were also six bankruptcy courtrooms not to mention the probation and pre-trial offices. The US Attorney's office and all of his minions were housed here, as well as the California division of the US Marshals office. Then there were the judges, their support staff and the court clerks….the list went on and on. It wasn't unusual to have such a large crowd of people in the courthouse on a Thursday morning. Even the unseasonably warm weather and the relentless rain storm didn't stop the federal courts.

He released a sigh, trying to shake the feeling of uneasiness. A flash of lightning in the bleak morning sky drew his eyes to the windows that looked out onto the street. The front of the building was a solid series of tinted plates of glass and the rain was creating a steady hum, subduing the voices in the open lobby. Not spotting anything in the diverse crowd that might have tripped his internal alarm, Don shook his head to clear his mind.

"Just keep your eyes peeled. Something is off."

The bathroom door opened and Agent Snyder, whom Don had met once before, stepped out. Marcus followed close behind.

"Shall we?"

Don stepped aside and they passed by him, heading for the elevator. He cast one more look over his shoulder into the open part of the lobby. Still nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Stopping in front of the elevator, Agent Snyder pushed the button and Don turned his back to the wall. He narrowed his eyes. Something was still tugging at the edge of his mind and he just couldn't quite grasp it. Don ran over everything he had seen since he entered the building this morning with Robin. As he replayed his memory of the morning, he stopped when Charlie got into the elevator….there is was. The group that exited the elevator before they had gotten on. As sudden realization came over Don, his eyes floated over the room, searching. There had been a man. Young. Dressed in a suit and tie….his head shaved, and a small goatee. In, gothic, black letter style; a tattoo. The letters M S and the number 13 almost hidden by the collar of his shirt. Now that he knew what he was looking for, Don searched through the faces that filled the lobby.

With out turning to face his colleagues, his eyes still scanning the room, Don moved his right hand to hover over his holstered weapon.

"Rawlings. Snyder. I think we may have a problem."

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When Charlie entered the courtroom gallery behind Agent Travis and Frankie, his eyes instantly found Robin at the front of the room. She was deep in conversation with an older man in a three piece suit. Charlie self-consciously checked out his own clothes. Khakis and a T-shirt weren't exactly courtroom attire, but he was wearing a sports jacket and that had to count for something. When he looked up, Robin caught his eye and gave him a subtle smile. When she looked around for Don, Charlie shook his head and mouthed the words "On his way." She nodded and turned her full attention back to her associate.

Agent Travis remained standing in the isle and Charlie chose a seat. Frankie quickly sunk onto the bench next to him, emulating his expression as Charlie looked around at the rooms occupants. The courtroom crowd was sparse, but they still had at least 20 minutes before the bailiff would have the door closed. Charlie wished he had been sitting in on the trial from the very beginning…but Robin seemed pretty confident that the good guys were more than a few steps ahead. As Charlie continued to watch her as she organized her notes, he found himself feeling slightly jealous of his brother. Don had found someone he would consider sharing the rest of his life with, and she wasn't the devil in disguise. Or if she was, it was a damn good disguise. Failing to suppress a quiet chuckle, he shook his head and grinned. Dad would be thrilled.

"What's so funny?"

Frankie was staring at him.

"What?"

He started to answer, but somewhere in the distance, an indistinguishable noise got his attention. He looked around the room. No one else seemed to have noticed the muted sound. Over the subdued chatter of the filling courtroom, Charlie could hear raised voices from somewhere close by. The armed officer standing near the left hand entrance to the room must have heard them as well. He had turned and entered the door leading to the prisoner cell blocks. Charlie felt the smile slip from his face. He quickly stood and walked to the edge of the row into the center isle. He wasn't sure why, but a sudden outbreak of goose bumps had just rippled out across his arms.

Frankie tugged on his sleeve.

"Hey. What's wrong? I just wanted to know why you were laughing."

Charlie didn't get a chance to respond when another sound, one that he had grown far to familiar with, echoed up the hallway that led off from the left side of the courtroom. A gunshot…followed instantly by several more. The officer who had just entered the hallway staggered back into the room. A series of gasps and shrieks filled the room as it's occupants reacted to the sound of the shots and the sight of the blood seeping from a bullet wound in the man's chest.

From the moment Charlie's eyes fixed on the bleeding officer, the laws of time and space seemed to suspend themselves. Everything slowed to a crawl, moving frame by frame through the events of the next 30 seconds.

Agent Travis pulled his sidearm, yelled something indistinguishable at Charlie, and instantly headed for the door to the holding cells. At that same moment a young man in an orange jumpsuit emerged, a service revolver in his right hand, prisoner restraints still hanging from his wrists. Without hesitation, Agent Travis fired his weapon, hitting the man in the torso. Before the agent could move forward several more shots were fired from the open door to the cell block corridor. Charlie watched in horror as Agent Travis was hit and went down. A third man ran through the door, followed by a fourth who grabbed the firearm from the fallen security officer. They began firing random shots into the small crowd in the courtroom gallery as they passed in front of the witness stand and headed for the center door. The man in the three piece suit was hit and he fell against the defense attorney's table. Frankie reacted quickly and threw his small body to the floor, rolling himself under the bench in front of them. Staring in shock at the carnage that was unfolding, Charlie fell backwards, landing on the floor, unaware of making a conscious decision to do so. He had felt like he was watching the events on a movie screen. His unplanned collision with the ground suddenly put things into perspective and realizing he was a part of this, seemed to restore the passage of time. Charlie wanted to crawl out of the walkway, but found himself unable or unwilling to do so. He rolled himself onto his stomach facing the door and pulled both his hands up over the back of his head.

Suddenly, a uniformed officer ran into the room from the main hallway where the last of those standing had just fled. After firing several shots over the rows of benches in the direction of the approaching escapees, the officer fell back, wounded in the return fire. He hit the floor a few feet from where Charlie lay, and dropped his weapon. The gunfire ceased and then Charlie could hear the approaching footsteps of the three men as they rounded the benches behind him. They stepped over Charlie as if he wasn't even there and stopped next to the wounded officer. One of the men picked up the officer's weapon and without hesitation aimed at the man's face and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot sounded like a cannon in his ears and Charlie felt blood spatter across his face and arms as the back of the officer's head exploded. Charlie felt as if he were being pulled into a black hole that began to grow in his own mind as he tried to detach himself from what was right in front of him. The three fugitives wasted no time stepping over the man's body, and Charlie could hear them as they headed out into the hall.

"The lobby will be cleared for us when we get down there. Marchitémonos!"

"He was already wrong about the Chota…..."

"Too late. Vámonos! Vámonos!"

For a moment, silence lingered after the men had left. But the serenity was quickly broken as the sounds of pain and shock began to fill the room.

Charlie fought back the urge to close his eyes and shut himself off from what had just happened. He forced himself to move and pulled up to his knees, using the edge of the bench for support. But his nervous system couldn't get his body to obey when he tried to stand. Pervasive shock and terror seemed to be controlling his actions. His legs and shoulders were almost shaking too badly to keep him in an upright position. In horror, he took in the pandemonium left in the wake of the escaping gang. Those who were able to, had quickly scrambled to their feet. A few exited through the doors on either side of the courtroom. While others stood, bleeding and in shock, surveying the bodies on the floor. With a surge of effort Charlie managed to pull himself to his feet. An unexpected wave of dizziness hit him, and he was unsure if he was going to be able to remain standing. He lifted his head again and glanced around the room. Frankie had crawled out from under the bench and was standing unmoving, staring at him wide-eyed. Robin had pulled herself up from under the table and on shaky legs she turned and spotted him. She took a few steps toward him and then stumbled to a halt.

"Oh, God. Charlie."

Charlie found himself more frightened by the look of dread in her eyes than he had ever been by anything in his entire life. As he took several steps forward, he became rapidly aware of a burning pain that had begun to grow across his right side. Swallowing hard, he found the courage to look down at his own chest. The front of his t-shirt, under his jacket, was slowly becoming saturated with blood. His blood.

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Authors Notes: Thanks for your comments thus far. I appreciate all of you for taking the time to leave your thoughts! And I know what you may be thinking now, so I gotta say - You're just going to have to trust me from here on in.

Chapter Three: Between There and Freedom