Alan Eppes woke with a groan. He blinked twice before realizing that he was in a room that provided absolutely no light whatsoever.
"How did I get here," he wondered quietly to himself. In a single, horrifying flash images began playing through his mind. He remembered the two men on the porch, Charlie dragged out of the garage, bound and gagged, looking terrified. Realizing the terror stemmed from the fact that they were taking him, Charlie's father, and he couldn't do anything but watch.
"Oh Charlie, I hope you're o.k." He whispered. Alan fought back tears and felt around him, trying to get some idea of where he was. He was lying on a small cot, the room he was in was small, about eight feet in any direction he wandered-the walls were smooth with no sign of a door in any of the walls.
"How am I supposed to get out of here?" He spoke outloud to himself, just to hear something other than the quiet that permeated the room.
"You aren't supposed to, Mr. Eppes. May I call you Alan?" A disembodied voice floated out of nowhere towards him.
"What? Who are you?"
"Mmm. That is not important Mr. Eppes. What is important is for you to answer my question right now. May I call you Alan?"
"Let me get this straight! You take me from my home, lock me in some hole who knows where? Don't have the decency to show me your face, I'm obviously your prisoner here-and you are asking me if you can call me Alan! Do I have this right?"
"Quite right. So-Mr Eppes, the choice is yours."
"Alan, then."
"Very good, Alan! You have made your first choice. This is encouraging progress." Alan thought back to his kidnapping and gasped, horrified when a second thought entered his brain, making his blood go cold.
"Wait, wait a second. My son- where is Charlie? What did you do to him! Charlie! Are you in here!" Alan stumbled blindly through the small room, terror seizing him as he imagined stumbling across his boy.
"Tsk. Tsk, Alan. Charlie is alive. He simply went for a swim in his backyard pond."
"Why me? Why take me?" Despite his fear, Alan was curious.
"Your son, Alan is Agent Eppes of the FBI. He needs to remember Albuquerque. He needs to make a connection."
"What?"
"No more questions, Alan. I expect you need some rest. I'll be back in a while. If you need it, there is a bucket underneath the cot."
"Wait, please! I still have questions! Are you there? Please!" Alan could hear the rise in his voice as he fought back panic, then finally let himself slump back onto the cot in defeat. The voice was gone.
"It will be o.k. It will be o.k." He told himself, though he knew he wasn't really believing it. Hard to believe everything was going to be o.k. when you are locked in a small room talking to someone you can't see. And then hoping he'll come back. Alan shook his head in despair and dropped onto the cot. Somewhere though deep inside of him, he still knew that Don and Charlie would find him. They were almost always unstoppable when the worked together, as a team.
The drive to Don's apartment was done in silence. Don was still struggling to come up with how to break the news to Charlie that he couldn't help with this one, while Charlie was muttering fast under his breath. Don recognized that he was muttering equations. His mouth briefly turned up into a small smile. No doubt they would be ones to try and locate their father.
Don grimaced as he pulled silently into his parking space at the apartment and shut the car off. Charlie looked over at Don when he remained in the car, his fingers still clutching the steering wheel, telling himself Charlie would be understanding when he told him. "Don?" Charlie's voice broke Don out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, Charlie?"
" We're here. We should probably go in. Oh, and do you have a notebook or two? I want to start working on an algorithm, so we can find Dad...," Don tuned Charlie's voice out for the moment. The hope in his brother's voice was almost too much to bear-especially since he was going to have to crush those hopes, if they wanted any chance of finding their dad alive.
"Charlie, stop! Just stop, o.k.? You cannot help on this one!" Without realizing it, Don had risen his voice to a shout. Charlie looked at Don with his eyes wide.
"Can't help, Don? This is our dad we are talking about! If there is any case that you do need my help on, it's this one!"
"No." Don's voice had dropped to a whisper.
"Why not? I can design an equation..."
"Charlie! Listen to me! You cannot help or work on this case! Not even a little!"
"Don, what has gotten into you. I know last night and this morning has been rough, but I still don't get you some days! You still treat me like a kid!" Charlie gave a disgusted sigh and opened the car door to get out.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"To CalSci."
"Why?" Charlie whirled to face Don, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Why? Because it's obvious you don't want me here, my home is off limits for the near future because it's a crime scene at the moment, so that would be my only option left to me, since you can solve this one on your own. So, go ahead and solve it Don." Charlie stalked off-heading for the nearby bus stop. A few steps before he reached it, Charlie turned and looked toward Don with cold eyes.
"Charlie, wait for a minute o.k. I need to tell you..." Charlie cut him off.
"Call me when you find, Dad." A bus pulled up and Charlie disappeared onto it. Don watched the bus pull away, his heart felt like it had shattered, the anger had faded and it left only the bitter taste of his brother's words in his mouth. Don dropped his head into his hands and let the emotions that he had been pushing back since this had all begun, push forward as he sobbed quietly.
