Charlie stared at the door after Don closed it behind him. He hoped Don had made the right choice. In spite of assertions to the contrary, he could tell Greg was scared. And scared people did not behave in a consistent manner. On the floor, Alan moaned. Charlie turned trying to make eye contact with his tormentor, "Greg, listen, my dad hasn't done anything to you. Why don't you let him sit down on the couch?"

Greg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sure. Why not? We'll be waiting a while anyway. Why don't we all make ourselves comfortable? Guys, help Mr. Eppes up."

Charlie relaxed a bit in Greg's grip. "Thank you," he said softly.

Jason put his gun down on the table and helped Daniel get Alan to his feet. "Come on, Mr. Eppes. We got you."

Alan blinked groggily as he passed Charlie. "Charlie? Are you okay? Where's Don?"

"I'm good, Dad. Don went to get the painting."

"What was he thinking? He can't do that."

"I don't think he felt he had a choice," Charlie grunted as Greg pushed him towards the couch.

"Here, Professor. Have a seat next to Daddy and don't do anything stupid."

Alan's fog was starting to lift and he scowled at Greg. "Neither of my sons ever does anything stupid."

"Aw, listen to that, guys," Greg laughed. "The Professor here and his fed brother never do anything stupid."

Charlie sighed. "Dad, you know that's not true. I do lots of stupid things. Did you know Don wanted to arrest Greg after he attacked me on campus, and I told him not to worry about it?" He looked up at Greg. "Did you kill Ellen so you could take the painting from her?"

"Sorry, Professor. Your basic assumption is wrong. I did not kill Ellen."

"But you certainly benefited from her death." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Charlie knew he had gone too far.

Greg grabbed him by his shoulders and yanked him to his feet. "Shut up! Your brother is going to be ticked off if he comes back with the painting and finds you dead."

Charlie gasped at the sudden jarring of his injured arm. "If you kill me, Don won't rest until he finds you. And when he finds you, I wouldn't be surprised if somehow he manages to convince his superiors that you were killed trying to escape." He glanced from Greg's eyes to Jason's. "What are you planning to do with the painting?" Jason avoided Charlie's gaze, instead looking to Greg for the answer.

Greg gave Charlie a shake. "Why do you care?"

Charlie tried to free his injured arm from Greg's grip. He stopped when the pain became unbearable. Gritting his teeth, he tried to engage Greg in conversation. "I'm curious. It's the nature of the scientific mind to want to find answers. And you said it yourself: we've got a while to wait. Why not spend that time satisfying my curiosity?"

Greg shoved Charlie back down onto the couch. Charlie grabbed his aching arm, trying to shift it into a less painful position. Greg started to pace in front of the couch. "We are going to give the painting to the guy Felicia stole it for. He knows we have ... had ... it, and he's made it clear that if he doesn't get the painting, we're dead."

"Who is it?"

"You don't think I'm really going to tell you that, do you?"

Charlie shrugged, grimacing. "It was worth a try."

"Charlie," Alan gently touched his son's injured arm, "let me help you get your arm back into the sling. I think it'll help."

Charlie gave Greg a questioning glance. Greg nodded. "Sure. Go ahead."

Alan used both hands to carefully lift Charlie's arm. Charlie used his left hand to hold the sling open as Alan slowly slipped the right arm into the sling. Once he was settled he turned back to Greg. "Okay, so you're not going to tell me who it is, but earlier you mentioned that there was a third ring leader. Is this buyer the third ring leader?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "And he's not very happy that he's not getting his painting."

"Is he the buyer for all the pictures?"

"That I don't know."

"How did you guys end up with the Van Gogh?"

Greg shook his head. "I don't think I should tell you that. We didn't kill Ellen."

"Who did? And why?"

"I have my suspicions. But I don't know for sure."

"Tell me what you know and I'll help you find out who did it."

"Charlie!" Alan said, "I can't believe you're going to help these criminals."

"It's more like they'll be helping us, Dad." Turning back to Greg, he said, "Greg, you're smart. You have got to realize that you're not going to get far even if Don brings you the painting. Do you even know how to let this buyer know you've got it?"

"He said he'd contact us."

"Do you think he's going to let you live once he gets the painting and you know who he is?"

Greg hesitated, looking from Jason to Daniel. "What else can we do? We know he'll kill us if he doesn't get the painting..."

"Not if you're in protective custody," Charlie said softly.

--

Don stood, hand on the door of his SUV, watching Liz, David and Colby walk up the driveway of the neighbor's house. Suddenly, Liz turned and walked back to him, holding a gun out to him. "Here," she said, pressing the gun into his hand. "You might need this. I forgot you probably didn't have your own."

"Thanks," he said, softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. "You be careful."

"You too," she said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He turned and pressed his lips to hers. "I'm always careful," he murmured.

He could feel her lips turning up into a smile. "Not always, Agent," she said, pulling away from him. "Shall we take this up later?"

"Definitely."

She turned and walked back to where David and Colby waited for her. Don watched her, enjoying the view for a moment before he slipped her gun into his waistband and climbed into his car. He waited, watching until the three agents climbed over the fence that separated Charlie's house from the neighbor's. He had worked with them long enough, and was familiar enough with the terrain, that he knew instinctively when it was time to drive back to Charlie's house.

He took a deep, steadying breath as he pulled into Charlie's driveway. Before he got out of the car, he checked to make sure his bulky sweatshirt concealed the gun. Picking up the painting, he opened the car door.

As he walked up the driveway, he saw the living room curtains twitch. He held up the box so whoever was watching from behind the curtains could see it.

The first thing his trained eyes noticed as he walked into the house was the gun on the dining room table. Then he saw his father and brother sitting on the couch. And Jason, Greg and Daniel standing in front of them. Unarmed.

He dropped the painting and pulled the gun from his waistband. Aiming the gun at Greg, he said, "Step away from the couch."

The three erstwhile kidnappers raised their hands and took a couple of steps toward Don. Greg spoke. "Agent Eppes, we'd like to surrender. Professor Eppes told us you'd be able to offer us protection if we give you everything we know."

A grin slowly spread across Don's face. "Charlie talked you into giving yourselves up?" He raised his eyebrows at his brother. "You did that?"

Charlie shrugged and grinned. "I just pointed out the logical results of their actions. They decided to take the only viable option available to them."

"Okay," Don glanced toward the back of the house. "David? Colby? Liz? You can come out now. Charlie talked them into surrendering."

David came down the stairs, Liz came from the garage and Colby came from the kitchen, guns drawn. While Don kept his gun trained on the three students, the agents handcuffed them and recited their rights.

With the three assailants out of commission, Don handed Liz her gun and sat on the couch next to Charlie. "You okay, Buddy? Dad? How about you?"

"We're both fine, Don," Charlie shifted to make more room for Don. "Except I think my arm is broken."

"We'll get both of you to the hospital. And you can fill me in on your hostage negotiation techniques on the way."

--

Liz looked at the three Eppes men, seated on the couch. Alan had leaned into the corner of the couch with his eyes closed. Charlie was fidgeting, obviously trying to get more comfortable. And Don had pulled up his sweatshirt and was examining his bandages. She picked up her cell phone. "I'll call the paramedics."

"Don't bother," Charlie shook his head. "It'll be faster to drive to Huntington from here. Could one of you drive us? I don't think any of us is in any shape to drive..."

Don leaned back on the couch, pressing his hand to his belly. "I agree, Buddy. Dad, are you okay?"

Alan's eyes opened. "I'll be fine. But I'll never watch one of those hardboiled detective movies the same way again. Those guys get clobbered over the head and get up and chase the bad guys. I am not going to be chasing anybody any time soon."

"Colby, why don't we bring the cars around," David said, holstering his gun. "Walker is probably wondering what's going on in here."

Colby laughed. "I forgot all about him. He's probably calling in the SWAT team. Liz, you okay watching the prisoners for a few minutes?"

Liz walked over to the prisoners, handcuffed and sitting on the floor. "You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?" she asked, casually examining her gun.

"No, Ma'am," Jason said, "er, Agent."

Liz grinned at Colby. "We'll be fine. We've come to an understanding."

--

A few minutes later, Colby and David returned with Gary Walker. The lieutenant shook his head as he entered the living room. "Professor, I hear you talked these guys into surrendering. Good job."

Charlie gave Gary a rueful grin. "It's just logic, Lieutenant. Mathematicians are trained in logic."

"Well, whatever it was, you did good." Turning to Don, Walker said, "So, Eppes, if you're done with the painting, I'll take it back with me."

Don pointed to the box where it lay on the floor. "I dropped it."

Walker bent to pick up the box. "I'm almost afraid to look inside. These old paintings are pretty fragile, I hear." He opened the box. "Well, it looks pretty much the same as it did when I turned it over to you. Looks like you got lucky."

"That's good news," Don said. "I'd hate to have the cost of a Van Gogh taken out of my paycheck. Whaddaya think, Chuck? How long would it take them to dock me for a twenty million dollar painting?"

"There are several variables to consider. Would they leave you money to live on? If not, I would say it would take two hundred and fifty years. Of course, if they leave you money to live on..."

"Either way, I'd be screwed."

David and Colby helped the prisoners to their feet. "Liz," David said, "why don't you take our three victims to Huntington? Colby and I'll take these three in and have a little talk with them." Turning to Walker, he said, "Gary, thanks for your help."

"Any time, Sinclair. I enjoy working with you guys." He closed the box. "Let me know when you want this back." He gave a quick wave and left.

--

Liz pulled into the parking lot at Huntington. "My car must know the way here by heart," she said with a chuckle.

Don stirred in the passenger's seat. "We there already?"

"Yep. I'll drop you three off at the emergency entrance and park the car. Unless you need a hand getting inside."

"I think we can handle it," Don chuckled. "I wouldn't want you getting towed."

--

Liz was stunned to see the crowd in the emergency waiting room. She was even more stunned to see Alan, Don and Charlie sitting, waiting. Don had grown deathly pale, and was hunched over, both arms wrapped around his middle. Alan's eyes were closed, and he leaned against Charlie's left shoulder. Charlie's right sleeve was soaked with blood and he was clearly in pain. "What is going on here?" she demanded when she reached them. "They haven't taken you in yet?"

Don looked up and shook his head. "The receptionist told us to sit down and wait. I don't have the energy to argue."

"Well, I've got the energy," she muttered, storming off to the reception desk, pulling out her badge.

When she reached the desk, the receptionist looked up at her. "May I help you?"

"I'm Special Agent Liz Warner, FBI. I want to know why those three gentlemen have not been seen yet."

"Special Agent, they have to wait their turn like everyone else. There are people more severely injured..."

"How many of them were held hostage and tortured? How many have gunshot wounds?" She shifted her jacket so her gun was visible. "Who do I have to see to get these men treated?"

The hint was not lost on the receptionist. She picked up the phone. "I'll call the head of emergency services."

"I'll wait." Liz leaned against the counter, watching Don. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he looked up and gave her a weak grin.

"Agent?" the receptionist said. "They're sending wheelchairs out right now to pick up your three victims. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

Liz turned and gave the receptionist a brilliant smile. "Thank you."

"In my defense, the gentlemen didn't say anything about being tortured, or being kidnap victims. I just assumed they were our average clients."

"That's okay. It's all good now." Liz strode across the waiting room, sat beside Don, and said, "They're sending someone out for you guys now."

"You didn't threaten to shoot her, did you?" Don chuckled.

"No, but I did show her my badge and kind of casually made sure my gun was visible." She put her arm around Don and gave him a squeeze.

The doors opened and three orderlies with wheelchairs approached the group. "Eppes?" one of the orderlies asked.

Alan opened his eyes and stared at the three men. "Wheelchairs? We're not invalids."

"Sorry, sir," the orderly said. "Hospital policy."

Liz and the orderlies helped the injured men into the wheelchairs and took them to a large exam room with four beds, separated by curtains.

Alan stood up, ready to climb onto the exam table when he noticed Liz was still there. "Liz, you don't have to waste your time hanging around here."

"Actually, I do. I want to keep an eye on you three. Remember, there is still at least one person out there who's trying to get his hands on that painting."

Charlie shuddered. "That's unsettling to hear."

"Don't worry, Charlie," Liz said. "I'll make sure the three of you are okay. In fact, I'm going to make sure each of you has an agent with you until we've apprehended everyone in this case. We're not going to take any more chances."

Charlie's eyes widened, and he seemed to be staring at nothing. "I need to call David," he said suddenly. "I think I have an idea that will help him finish this whole thing once and for all."