"Professor," Lieutenant Walker greeted the young man with a huge smile on his face. "Your information was dead on. We got the shipment and we rounded up ten gang members."

"I'm glad to hear it," Charlie told him.

Walker motioned for him to walk down the hallway with him. "Do you know that this shipment alone would have made them the most powerful drug gang in southern California?"

"I knew it was big, but I had no idea that it was that big."

"We missed the leader of the YKs, but we did round up his number two man." Walker stopped and gestured through the one-way glass at the man seated in interrogation. "Robert 'Rock' Williams. He's a dangerous fellow and he's going to be off the street for quite a while now."

"Glad to hear it," Charlie said as he eyed the heavy set man. "He's a scary-looking guy."

"Yes he is," Walker drawled. "We found some disturbing evidence in the back of his SUV, too. Looks like he's assaulted or killed someone recently."

"Any idea who?" Charlie asked as he checked his watch. I really need to get back to Don.

"No," the older man shook his head. "Just found a shovel with some blood on it. We'll run the DNA on it and see if we get a hit."

Charlie jerked his head up and gave Walker a terrified look. "Shovel? Where is it?"

"In the evidence room being processed."

"I need to see it," the young man told him.

"It's just a shovel, Professor," Walker assured him.

"No, you don't understand," Charlie insisted, unable to clearly articulate his thoughts. "I have to see it! Now!"

"Sure, Professor," Walker acquiesced. "Follow me."

--

Wilcox quietly jimmied the lock and slipped through the back door. He knew both men were out, but he didn't want to make any noise that might draw the neighbors' attention. He walked through the bottom floor of the house, looking for the best place to lie in wait. He knew the professor was responsible for LAPD's presence at the delivery, which led to him losing the shipment of a lifetime and his second in command.

One of the YKs at the scene had just barely escaped from the cops and laid low overnight. He'd put in a call to Wilcox early this morning and told him what happened. The gang banger had succumbed to a blinding rage and he'd rushed to the Eppes house with revenge on his mind. He'd had to change his course of action when he'd seen the cop car waiting outside and patiently watched until everyone had left.

Now his plan was to wait for the professor to come home and put a bullet in his brain – plain and simple. The old man's, too, if he came home first. As he wandered around the ground floor, Wilcox couldn't help but notice that there were some valuable looking collectibles scattered around the house. Deciding that he was owed some of the professor's money on top of his blood, Wilcox headed upstairs to case the rest of the house.

--

Don slowly drifted awake and groaned as he rolled onto his side. He'd been so exhausted the night before that he hadn't moved in his sleep. His muscles were screaming at him to stretch, but he just didn't feel like getting out of bed. What's the point? he wondered to himself. I can't do anything until Dad and Charlie get home. Might as well sleep in.

As he started to roll onto his other side for another few winks he felt something cool, round and metal pressing against the healing wound on his temple.

"Well, well," a cold voice snarled in his ear. "If it ain't the messenger that don't know how to deliver a message."

"Who?" Don asked, and was rewarded with a sharp jab to his head. He winced and closed his eyes against the throbbing in his skull as the man spoke again.

"You know who, you fool. Should've just delivered the message like we told you. But since you ain't no good at that, I guess you're fired." The man let out an evil laugh. "Literally."

Don felt the gun barrel press tighter against his head and held his breath as he waited for the shot to come.

--

Alan couldn't help the huge grin that was plastered on his face. His and Stan's client had finally accepted the most recent plans and told them to take off and have a great weekend. Alan had practically hugged the poor man before running to his car and speeding down the highway, making sure his cell phone remained off in case the client changed his mind. The meeting had only lasted about twenty-five minutes and Alan was looking forward to getting home early. He briefly thought about calling the house to wake Don, but decided he'd just surprise him when he got home.

This is a sign, he thought to himself. Everything is smooth sailing from now on.

--

"It's Don," Charlie whispered as he stared in horror at his father's bloody shovel. He whirled around to face Walker. "It was Don that this guy attacked!"

"How do you know that's your father's-"

"The inscription!" Charlie cut him off. "It's my father's and that's what they attacked Don with. Oh my God…"

"What?" Walker asked.

"There were five attackers," Charlie told him. "What if… What if they attacked Don as a warning to me? To stay off the case?"

"They're ruthless enough to do that," the older man agreed.

"And now that you've ruined their latest plan…" Charlie visibly paled. "You said the leader of the YKs wasn't at the bust?"

"Right," Walker nodded. "Just the number two man."

"Then he's still out there." Charlie took a deep breath. "What if he wants revenge? What if he goes after Don again? He's at home by himself right now."

"Calm down, son," Walker told him. "We don't know that anyone's planning to go after him again, but I'll get someone over to your house right now. Come on, we'll head on over there, too – lights and sirens blazing."

"Thanks," Charlie told him as dialed Megan's number into his phone. "I'm going to call Don's team."

"That's a good idea."

--

Don waited for an eternity before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes. He saw the gunman glaring down at him and waited quietly to see if he could figure out what was going on.

"This is all your fault," the gunman roared at Don. "All you had to do was tell that professor brother of yours to stay out of our business and that would have been it. But you're too stupid to even do that much, huh? Now his blood is going to be on your hands. Daddy's, too."

Don gathered his courage and decided to try speaking. "Not know."

"Not know?" the young man laughed. "What, are you like retarded? You sure didn't seem retarded that night at the gym. You faking?"

Deciding to try and lull the gunman into a false sense of security, Don added, "Hurt head. Not work."

"I told Rock he hit you too hard. Well, too bad for you. I still want my revenge."

"Kill all? Me only."

The young man let out a high pitched laugh. "You sound like a four year old, man! Rock really scrambled your brains."

"Me only," Don repeated, desperate to save his family. He shifted on the bed in an attempt to sit up and was rewarded with the gun being shoved in his face.

"Don't move," the gunman growled before walking the perimeter of the room. He opened the dresser drawers and began rifling through the contents looking for anything valuable. He found Don's wallet and pulled it out. "You carry much cash?" he asked as he flipped it open. His eyes widened and he glared at Don. "You're a Fed?"

"Was," Don whispered, knowing that one way or another he never would be again.

"So some damn math professor messes up my racket and he's got a Fed for a brother. Unbelievable." He rummaged in the drawer again and pulled out Don's handcuffs. Grinning widely, he moved toward Don and gestured for him to roll over.

Don reluctantly obeyed and gritted his teeth as his hands were wrenched behind his back and tightly cuffed.

"Comfy?" the gunman sneered. "Let's go downstairs and wait for your brother. We'll have a nice, big reunion and then you two can die together."

--

Charlie leaned forward in the passenger seat of the squad car, silently urging the vehicle to go faster. He'd tried calling Don at home, but no one was answering the phone. That already had his nerves on edge and now he was worried about his father, too. He'd called him to let him know what was going on and to ask him to stay away from the house, but his father's cell kept going straight to voice mail. Worried, the professor had called Stan who'd informed him that the meeting had been incredibly short and that Alan had left to go home a long time ago.

"Can't we go any faster?" Charlie demanded.

"Fast as we can go," Walker calmly answered. "Your brother's team is on their way, too, right?'

"Yes," the professor answered. "Hopefully they're going faster."

Walker bit back a retort, understanding that the young man beside him was worried for his family's safety. "We don't even know that Don is in trouble."

But he is, Charlie thought silently. I can feel it.

TBC