Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Cheryl Heuton, Nicolas Falacci, and CBS. I will, however, own Seasons and 2 on DVD here shortly, if that counts for anything ;)


Los Angeles FBI Field Office
0830 Hours PST

"1138 85th St," David called out.

Colby looked at the computer projection of the Los Angeles area, found the address David had said, and marked it on the map. He stepped back, looking at the points. "Nothing stands out," he said. "We got any others?"

"That's all for Langager's victims," David replied.

"I've got a relative at this address," Liz said, hopping out of her chair and X'ing it on the map.

The three of them stared at the map. None of them spoke for a moment, looking at the data they'd collected. "Why do I feel like this would make more sense to Charlie?" Colby said finally, sinking back into his chair.

"This all looks random," David agreed. "But Charlie would say 'there's random, and then there's random.'"

"How did Don catch this guy the first time?" Liz wondered. "Charlie wasn't working for them, then, and this guy's literally all over the map."

"All that paperwork, you're tellin' me you haven't looked at the incident report?" Don asked, leaning in the doorway of the conference room. His three agents looked up, almost looking guilty at being caught doing whatever it was they were doing. Don came into the room, rummaged through the folders, and pulled out the arrest report, holding it in the air."Langager's a bold guy," Don explained. "Last victim, Langager called us while he was doing the murder. I had to listen to it all the way while they tracked the GPS on the phone. He got cocky, thought he'd be out and gone by the time we got there."

"But you got there first," David guessed.

Don nodded grimly. "Yeah, 'cause Langager was enjoying himself a little too much, got caught up in the act, and we got there. Not in time to do anything for his last victim, but in enough time to nail Langager."

"So this guy was looking at going down for…." Liz counted the indictments. Her eyes widened. "Wow. That's a few life sentences there."

"You said this is the second time he's gotten out of jail?" Colby clarified.

"First time was ten years ago, he was in for attempted murder on a police officer in Oregon, managed to break out of the yard during a fight," Don explained. "He was on the run for a long time, that's when he graduated to serial killer."

"And then you got him," Liz noted.

"Yeah, he crossed state lines a few times, that's what made him a federal case. And then somehow his lawyer managed to charm his way into general population, and he managed to get out of lockup again."

"And then there's that," David said. He tossed the folder he was reading onto the table. "How in the hell does a guy like this make any kind of friend in law enforcement?"

"That's the connection we gotta find," Don said.

His cell phone rang shrilly from his pocket. The entire team clammed up, waiting.

Don's eyes narrowed as he pulled it from his pocket, flicked it open, and put it on speaker. "Eppes," he bit off crisply.


Undisclosed Location
0900 Hours PST

"Good morning!" Langager greeted Don. He grinned at Alan across from him. His partner was seated next to the Eppes patriarch, a gun in his ribs the warning to stay silent. "Sleep okay?"

"I'll sleep better when they stick the needle in your arm," Don shot back. "Let me talk to my dad."

"Sure, yeah, he's here," Langager held the phone out to Alan, who took it with his free hand.

"Don." Alan almost let 'Donnie' slip, but didn't want to give Langager any more ammunition than what he had. Keep it professional, Alan.

"Dad, you okay?"

Alan eyed Langager. "Arm's a little sore from your handcuffs, but can't complain. Room service could be better."

"Look, I'm comin' for you, okay, Dad? We're gonna-"

Langager snatched the phone back. "Yeah, speaking of that," he cut in. "How's my paperwork coming?" He grinned. "Do I get a fun new name? I always hated 'Daryl,' tell me I get a new name."

"How does a number on a jumpsuit sound?"

Langager laughed. "You know, it's a good thing I got some sleep last night, and I'm in a pretty good mood." He eyed Alan, any trace of humor vanishing instantly from his face. It frightened Alan to see the difference. "I want my paperwork, Don. I want you to deliver it to me in person."

"Say when," Don hissed at him.

"I'll be in touch," Langager replied, and hung up the phone. He tossed it onto the bed with a satisfied nod to his partner.

The partner proceeded to backhand Alan across the face, his ring catching the older man right above the eyebrow. "Don't think we didn't catch that hint you threw your son, Mr. Eppes," he told him.

"Take it easy, man, it's fine," Langager shrugged. "His boy's a smart kid, he'll figure it all out soon enough." With that, he got up and headed into the bathroom.

Alan glared at the FBI agent. "You know that means you're nothing but collateral, right?" Alan asked him seriously. "Because when Don figures this out, especially that a fellow agent is involved with aiding a fugitive, he'll bring the entire Bureau down on your head."

The agent looked like he wanted to hit Alan again. "Go ahead," Alan told him. "I'm not sure what he's like when he's in a bad mood-" here, he nodded at the closed bathroom door, "-but I wouldn't want to be you on the receiving end."

And I'd rather not be here if that should happen.