Chapter Sixteen: Where Do We Go From Here?

Don sat next to the bed and stared in awe at his little brother. Once again, Charlie had managed to beat the odds. It was almost as if his ability to calculate the exact figures somehow gave him a better chance. Turning his eyes to Alan, Don found himself almost overwhelmed with a deep concern for his father. He was still sitting by the window, his head resting on the back of the chair and he was snoring softly. If he thought for one minute Alan would cooperate, he would wake him and send him home. But there was little chance of that.

Don had almost considered going home himself. He needed a shower and a change of clothes, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave again. What if something happened and he was gone? The doctor said they weren't out of the woods yet. And he needed to be here when Charlie woke up again. No matter how painful it was for him. As Don rehearsed what he wanted to say to Charlie……what he needed to say, he again found himself talking out loud.

He couldn't help but allow himself a small chuckle.

"I know it's stupid. But it's just easier to talk to you when I know you aren't listening. That's half the reason why I always wait until you're in the garage working. I can get it out of my system with the full knowledge that you didn't hear a word I said."

Watching the red pulsating light on the heart monitor, Don was again struck with a terrible sense of loss. Robin was still dead. Nothing could change that. But as badly as he wanted to get lost in his grief, Alan was right.

"God, Charlie. I'm so sorry….for all of this."

"not your fault."

Charlie's voice was so small that he had hardly heard him, but the three words almost knocked Don from his chair.

"Hey, Buddy. You're awake?"

Trying to keep his voice steady, he took a deep breath.

"I should….I shoulda known you were faking."

Charlie turned his head toward him and opened one eye just enough for Don to see the dark brown iris.

"not faking….eyes too heavy…..hard to talk."

Pulling his chair closer to the bed Don maneuvered himself so he could stay in Charlie's line of sight.

"Yeah, they've got you on the good stuff, kid."

"still hurts to swallow."

He offered up a weak smile and nodded reassuringly.

"That'll go away."

Charlie was fighting to stay alert and it took him a moment to answer.

"heard him say that."

"What else did you hear?"

"you….Dad."

Don shook his head and tried to keep his emotions at bay.

"It's not your fault, Charlie. You know that, right? You know I don't blame you……."

There was an extended silence as Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again and blinked a tear ran down his cheek.

"blame myself."

"You shouldn't……….."

Don leaned forward in the chair as he spoke, but Charlie interrupted him.

"can't bring her back. I didn't even try to stop…..."

"HEY, NO."

The elevated volume of his voice made Charlie jump and his Dad's snoring suddenly ceased. The desire to safeguard his brother from his self inflicted guilt reflected so plainly in Don's tone that it surprised even him. Glancing at his father, who was now awake and staring at him warily, Don continued in a softer tone.

"He would have killed you too, Buddy. I know that."

Charlie's eyes closed and several seconds passed in silence before he spoke again.

"would have been better….."

Don fought off the desire to shake Charlie's shoulders. He wanted to shout and tell him that blame would be assigned. That the one who really was responsible would be found and dealt with. That someone would pay for doing this to him. For putting him through this…..for putting them through this. Instead Don found Charlie's limp hand and took it firmly in his own.

"Don't say that, Charlie. Don't ever say that."

"'m sorry, Donnie."

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Buddy."

Several minutes passed and Charlie's breathing slowed down and took on a steady rhythmic rate. Pulling his brother's hand close to his heart, Don laid his head on the edge of the bed and fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. There was a way through this. As long as they had each other, he could find a way through this.

A shuffle at the doorway brought Don's head up and around. A familiar figure stood just outside the doorway.

"David?"

Walking through the door, David nodded to Alan where he sat by the window.

"How is he?"

Don released Charlie's hand, laying it gently on the bed, and pulled himself to his feet, turning to face his colleague.

"The doctor seems to think he'll recover. But he's got a long road ahead of him."

Casting a glance at his father, who had remained silent, Don met his eyes.

"I guess we all do."

Realizing he had interrupted a family moment, David almost rethought the purpose of his visit.

"I'm sorry, Alan….Don. I know it's late. But I thought you'd want to know."

"Know what?"

Don watched as David looked from him to Charlie and then back again.

"David?"

"Don, I know I shouldn't…."

"What?"

"We got a tip from some of the kids in Charlie's group…down at the center."

Don nodded and David continued.

"The 18th street gang is planning a mass retaliation against the Mara 13. They are targeting at least three of the locations where we have men posted. We can't just let them start a gang war right in front of us. We're going to have to take them now……tonight. With or without Miguel Escalón."

"Do we have any leads on his location at all?"

"A few. But Marcus was right, Don. He told me this was bigger than a couple of street gangs. This guy Miguel…..we have evidence to suggest that he's the west coast front man for the Abrego cartel."

Don couldn't mask his shock at this news. The Abrego cartel was one of the major players in the black market. They specialized in running drugs and weapons across the border and according to their sources they had even begun to dabble in human trafficking. If the Mara 13 were the ones muleling for the Abrego this had just blown into the biggest take down of the century.

"Does the DEA know?"

"Yeah, they're on their way. They want in on this. And the Department for Homeland Security has just upped their threat level and have made taking down this gang a priority nation-wide. They're also bringing in Immigration. At least fifty percent of the 13th's member are illegals."

Don stood and walked over to where David was standing, his tone growing more urgent as he spoke.

"Charlie did a game theory analysis of the Abrego. About a year ago, I think."

David nodded resolutely.

"We've got it covered, Don. That's how we figured this out. Megan found the folder. He called it a theory of strategic interaction….."

"Yeah, and something about Nash?"

"The Nash Equilibrium…right. He told the DEA then that there was missing piece, that the equation was incomplete. That made it impossible to predict their next move."

"So, the gang was the missing variable?"

David nodded in silent reply.

"How many teams do we have?"

"Four of ours. We've got two INS teams on the way, at least a half a dozen ATF agents and the DEA is pulling out the works."

"Who's lead agent?"

David looked slightly embarrassed.

"Right now, I am."

"Okay."

Don bobbed his head in approval and David looked at him apprehensively.

"You know I can't let you go in on this one, Don."

"I wouldn't expect you too. But I am coming with you."

David handed him a black FBI windbreaker jacket that he had been holding under is arm.

"I figured you might."

"Son?"

Don turned to look at his father. Alan had pulled himself to his feet and was looking at him in disbelief.

"Dad. If Charlie wakes up again…."

"NO! Don. Just let your team handle this."

Don took a deep breath and held it for minute. When he released the air from his lungs, he walked across the room to stand next to his father.

"I need this, Dad. For Robin. For Charlie. For me. Okay?"

When Alan offered no reassurances Don turned his back to him and headed for the door.

Then Charlie's weak voice tore through the silence that had filled the room.

"Donnie?"

Stopping next to the bed, Don was unsure of what to say and afraid that Charlie would ask him not to go.

"Buddy….I'm sorry."

"s'okay….just come back…can't do this alone."

Through his state of drug induced delirium, Charlie was trying to tell him that he understood. And Don got the message loud and clear.

"You won't have to, okay? You won't have to."

Charlie lifted his arm weakly.

"promise?"

Don grasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I'll be back, Buddy. I promise."

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Authors Notes: Thank you so much for the encouraging comments! I'm blown away! As we near the end of this journey inspiration is getting harder to come by. (and I'm in serious need of a decompression tale!)

HOWEVER - I read a spoiler for the first two episodes of season three and I'm totally psyched now! For those of you who aren't into spoilers…I don't want to spoil it. I will say it's a two parter.

BOOYA!

Hey - I gotta get excited about something when the R/W stinks as bad as it has this week….I'll take anything.

Chapter Seventeen: Five Pounds of Pressure

(Turns out that's exactly the amount of pressure it takes to pull the trigger on a 9mm GLOCK handgun….just so you know what this title is in reference to!)