Disclaimer: SEE CHAP ONE!
A/N: Hey hey everyone! Here is the second chapter on A Million! Happy New Years to everyone! My New Years Resolution is to update as often as I can. Though I have like four or five stories on the go. I'll do my best! A shout out to my new beta enigste1, THANKS! Well I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Although the writer's block part was soooooooooo not fun. Hehe. I had to wrack my brain to find out what to do with this and I hope it goes in a direction that you can like.
Well here goes nothing!
Chapter 2: No Room for Mistakes
Don sped in the direction of the house his brother and father shared. His mind raced and he hoped that this was one of the rare occasions Charlie was wrong. Of course he already knew by the abrupt hanging up of the phone and the fact no one was answering that Charlie was probably right. The feeling he had in his gut earlier deepened considerably. It turned from the irrational worry he'd had in the beginning into torturous fear.
Usually he felt Charlie's house was quite close to FBI headquarters, but today it was too far away.
David sat in the passenger's seat, acutely aware that this wasn't just an average case. Don had explained about the phone call and Charlie's haunting findings as they ran towards the car. Colby was in the back seat. No one spoke. The situation was too intense for words. Their friend - Don's brother - was in serious trouble.
Don pulled into the driveway and they jumped out, guns ready. "On my signal."
Colby and David nodded. Don walked in the front door, calling as casually as he could. "Dad? Charlie?" There was no response. All the lights were off. He gave the signal and they rushed into the garage but they could see nothing in the darkness. Don reached for the light switch.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - except for the tiny puddle of blood on the floor. A closer look revealed words written on the wall in crimson. Colby and David's eyes locked, knowing instinctively what they would say.
"Wait for the tape, it'll tell you what he needs to survive."
"The same as all the others," Don whispered, staring at the bloody message.
"Hey Don." David tried to get his attention. He had found the results of Charlie's algorithm. "They didn't take Charlie's information. This might help us find him."
Don turned and silently took the printout.
-all are the youngest of the families
-all had a family member die from cancer
-all from relatively small families (two or three immediate members)
-all own a house protected by the historical society
-all went to "Comic's Corner" a week or two before the kidnappings
"Why didn't they take this information?" Colby wondered aloud.
"They probably didn't know he was working on it," David told him.
"Charlie fits the profile, but how was he so sure?" Don tried to sound in control, but the other agents could detect the strain in his voice.
"Maybe they did take the information, but missed this bit. There's nothing here about a time pattern. It looks like the last page of the information," Colby replied.
"Do you think Amita and Larry could run it again and get the missing data?" David asked.
"I hope so," Don answered and then realized something. "Where's my dad? He should've been here, too."
"Charlie? Are you home?" Don was relieved to hear his father's familiar voice, but he also knew that he couldn't allow his father in the garage.
"Dad! Wait there!" Don called as David phoned for back up. Don went into the house to see his father holding a small, wrapped parcel that looked suspiciously like it might contain a video tape.
"Don, do you know who this is from? It's addressed to me, but I'm not expecting a package," Alan asked his elder son.
Don swallowed, "I think I know where it came from." He met his father's eyes. "Dad..." Gesturing to a nearby chair, he added, "Sit down, please."
Alan slowly lowered himself into the seat. "Who is it from... where's Charlie?"
"Dad, Charlie's been... taken," Don explained as gently as he could. He braced himself for his father's reaction. "The package is from 'them',"
The other two agents chose this time to re-enter the house, "How did they take him with three agents in the house, Donnie! How!" Alan found himself raising his voice, even though he tried desperately not to.
"He found out he'd be next and called me, but they got to him before I even hung up. I tried Dad. I tried to save him." The words spilled out of Don as he tried to make his father understand. He didn't get it himself, really. How could he let his little brother be kidnapped?
"Its okay, Donnie." Alan opened the package and, just as Don thought, a video tape fell out onto the table.
"No, it's not," he whispered in response, he picked up the tape, put it into the VCR and watched with bated breath.
Charlie appeared on the screen, his hands in the process of being tied and looking as though he was in some kind of vehicle. The screen was shaking slightly, but not enough to suggest the vehicle was moving. Blood seeped from a gash in Charlie's left shoulder. Once the masked kidnappers finished binding his hands and feet, the camera swung around and they were suddenly looking into cold, green eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Eppes. As you can see, we have your youngest son here. He's a little the worse for wear, but otherwise perfectly healthy. That will change if my demands aren't met." The camera moved to Charlie again and a man gently ran his knife up and down Charlie's right shoulder. His mask slipped. As he pushed it back up, Charlie flinched involuntarily when the knife nicked his flesh. Fear was clearly reflected in the young professor's eyes.
"Damn it, Joker!" Someone yelled at the man holding the knife.
The camera resumed its focus on the man who'd been talking. "It's as simple as this. You need a million dollars so one of my friends doesn't cut Professor Eppes into a million pieces. Starting with the toes, moving on to the fingers and so on. You get the picture? Or do we need to show you?"
The four men watching each took a deep breath, but the camera never swung to Charlie. The speaker paused. "Didn't think so. Oh, and you have a million seconds to get me what I want. Professor... how long is that?"
The camera focused closely on Charlie as he began to speak, "Eleven days, thirteen hours, forty-six minutes and forty seconds," Charlie paused and when no one spoke, he quickly continued. "Dad... I'm sorry. Please... just get me out of here. Don, if you're there, I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you. I just want you guys to know... I love you. Please Don - find me." Tears spilled from his usually sparkling brown eyes. Now they just looked terrified, pleading for them to save him.
"How sweet. Don't worry, Agent Eppes. You know how this works. You and your father pay up and the professor goes free." The man with cold eyes smiled through his mask as the tape cut out.
"Don..." Alan trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"I'll get him back, Dad," Don reassured his father, not knowing if he'd be able to keep his word. "I'll get him back."
Alan nodded solemnly. "I'll see if I can get the money together."
Don pressed his hands into his face for a moment, took a deep breath and nodded slowly. It wasn't supposed to happen to his family. Not to him, not to his father and certainly not to Charlie.
The four men heard a car approach the house and then a tentative knock. Don opened the door and Megan stood on Charlie's stoop. "What happened?" she asked immediately, concern written on her face. It only took one word for her to realize what had happened.
"Charlie..." Don began, his voice breaking. She could easily see the emotion that was threatening to tear him apart.
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Angry shouts reached Amita's ears and she ducked behind the wall of a building just as a gunshot shattered the air. "There's no room for mistakes, Joker." A cold voice could be heard talking to whoever had just been shot. She waited and was shocked when she thought she heard Charlie's pleading voice. Amita pressed herself flat against the wall and prayed that she was mistaken.
The sound of a second gunshot never came, only that of a car burning rubber as it drove away. Amita ran to the unmoving man and saw blood pooling around him. Her eyes widened when she recognized him as the comedian from the week before. Yanking off her sweater, she pressed it over the wound and dug into her purse with her other hand for her cell phone.
"911-" the operator began, but Amita immediately cut him off.
"He's got a bullet wound, he's bleeding badly. We're at 53 Gorgan Avenue," Amita told the operator urgently.
"Okay, the ambulance and police are on their way. What's your name, miss?"
"Amita Ramanujan," she answered quickly.
"Alright Amita, they're coming. You -" but Amita had already hung up and dialed Don's cell phone number.
"Eppes," she heard his tired voice answer.
"Don? It's Amita. I'm here with a man who's been shot. I heard the whole thing. I think I heard Charlie. Please tell me he's there with you." Amita's voice was shaking with emotion.
"He's been kidna-" Don stopped. "Wait - you heard him? Where are you?"
"53 Gorgan Avenue... He's been what? No… Don… please tell me you're kidding." Amita heard the man beside her groan and she pressed her sweater harder against his chest to slow the bleeding.
"I wish I was," Don's voice crackled over the phone. "Listen, I'm going to head over there right away, okay?"
"I'll wait here then. I hope this guy doesn't die." Amita looked down at the man again.
"I hope so too. He may be our only lead to find Charlie," Don hung up the phone, not taking the time to say goodbye.
The man groaned again, "Hey...You're that girl..."
"Yes... Good. You remember me. You remember who was with me that day?" Amita asked him, trying to make her voice sound calm but unable keep out an angry undertone. He'd helped kidnap Charlie and she didn't want to be kind to him.
"The older professor...Fleinhardt and Charles Eppes..." He groaned in pain. Amita just pressed harder. "Please... that hurts."
"No pain, no gain," Amita replied with a grim smile.
"I'm sorry... 'bout your friend..." He was unable to continue as bloody coughing erupted from deep within his throat and in an attempt to save him, Amita tried to prop him up.
"NO! You can't die! You have to help us find him!" Tears slid down her cheeks as she struggled to keep their best chance at finding Charlie alive.
Slowly the coughing subsided as sirens approached, interrupting the silence of the night. The ambulance had finally arrived. "Please, you can't die," she begged the injured man. In her heart she knew it was really Charlie she was pleading with. She couldn't imagine life without him. "Please… just don't die."
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Well it took me long enough, but I got it done didn't I? I really hope you enjoyed chapter two of my second Numb3rs story. I hope to have chapter three up by February, but don't hurt me if I don't. I can only do what I can. Exams are coming up and I need to cram and cram and cram for the next couple of weeks. I hope I do good! If there is any suggestions you want to give me, don't be afraid. All I want to do is improve my writing. Maybe someday I'll get a book published. If I do, I'll be sure to mention all the people who helped me in learning to write better. Because p.s. writing is my life! I'd also like to add, my beta rocks! THANK YOU!
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