David's earpiece crackled and Betty's voice came through. "Sinclair? We're following a blue Nissan Maxima. Two occupants. The driver is Mike Tang from the 13W gang. He's apparently got Yang's phone. The other occupant is Tang's brother Louis. Tom tells me we're about five blocks from your location. Any word on Tomlin's movements yet?"

"Thanks, Betty. Last I heard, Tomlin was heading in your direction. You guys have any idea where Yang could be?"

"We've had him under surveillance since he arrived in LA. He's got an office in the back of Mike Tang's restaurant, and as far as we know, he's still there."

"Might be a good idea to have someone check on that."

"I'll get someone on it."

David arrived at the intersection, and pulled over to the curb, watching. He listened to the voices in his earpiece reporting the progress of the two cars, and his eyes shifted back and forth until he felt like he was watching a tennis match. Finally, Tomlin's car sped through the intersection from his right. When the light changed, David pulled away from the curb and turned left to follow a few cars behind Tomlin. A few blocks later, he caught sight of a blue Nissan approaching them.

Tomlin must have seen Tang's car as well. He signaled and pulled into the parking lot of a McDonald's. David passed the McDonald's and pulled into the next parking lot. He watched as Colby continued to a lot a few doors down, and then saw Liu pull into a Burger King across the street from the McDonald's. The Nissan made an illegal left turn into the McDonald's. "Hail, hail, the gang's all here," he muttered as he got out of his car.

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Charlie was determined not to pester Don. But as he set the napkins down on the table, he couldn't help studying Don's face across the room. His brother's eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping. Liz moved slightly, catching Charlie's attention. She smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up.

"Here," Amita said as she and Ben stood, "let us take care of that. You go sit with your brother and relax."

"I can do this," Charlie objected.

"Nobody's disagreeing with that, Charlie," Ben said, picking up a napkin. "But let us make ourselves useful. Please."

"Besides," Amita said, "I saw you looking at Don. You're worried about him. Go, keep an eye on him."

"Since you put it that way…" Charlie gave Amita a quick kiss and crossed the room to sit on the couch next to Liz. "How's he doing?" he whispered.

"Sound asleep. I think the painkillers knocked him out. How are you feeling?"

Charlie shrugged and winced. "Sore. Tired."

"Sorry your nap was interrupted," Liz said, grinning.

"Don't remind me about that," Charlie groaned. "I'll never live that down."

"Charlie, you did the right thing. You heard a noise and you told us about it. What if you hadn't said anything about it and it turned out to be an intruder?"

"Thanks. I'm still never going to live it down."

"Knowing this crew, I believe it. But don't forget that we only pick on people we like."

Charlie snorted. "You always hurt the one you love. Dad used to sing that when he was punishing us."

"Dinner's ready!" Alan announced as he set the casserole on the table.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Liz nudged Don, "you ready for dinner?"

"Mmm… yeah. I'm awake," Don stirred and stretched.

"Would you rather I bring your food in here?" Liz asked.

"Nah. I can do it," Don said, sliding his feet off of the ottoman.

"You sure, Bro?" Charlie asked. "We can set up a tray table for you. You look like you're going to fall asleep in your dinner."

"I'm sure," Don said firmly. Liz helped him to his feet and helped him walk slowly toward the table. He paused as Ben pulled out his chair for him. "Thanks." Once he was settled, he said, "Hey, Liz, have you heard anything from David and Colby?"

"Not yet. Last I heard David was heading toward the spot where they expected Tomlin and Yang's gang to meet. Betty is checking on Yang's whereabouts, but they think he's still in Chinatown. Probably waiting for his guys to bring him the painting. Now would probably be a bad time to call David," she added with a smirk.

"Can we forget the case for a few minutes and enjoy supper?" Alan asked pointedly.

"Definitely," Don said, "but the minute we finish eating, if I haven't heard from David, I'm calling in."

"If you're still awake," Alan said. "Have some salad. Maggie pulled off a miracle."

"Give credit to Amita. She brought over a head of lettuce and some tomatoes."

As Maggie was passing the salad to Don, they were startled by a loud knock on the front door. Don started to stand, but Liz put her hand on his shoulder. "I've got it." With her hand on her weapon, she walked to the door and pulled the curtain on the sidelight aside. With a relieved grin, she unlocked and opened the door. "Megan! Come on in!"

Megan's smile didn't quite banish the signs of fatigue and stress from her eyes. "Hey, Liz. How's it going?"

"What's that ancient curse? May you live in interesting times? It's been interesting," Liz leaned out the doorway and glanced up and down the block before closing and locking the door.

"I can see that," Megan said.

"Hey, Reeves!" Don called. "Get in here before dinner gets cold!"

Megan rolled her eyes at Liz. "Some things never change."

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"All right," David spoke into the mic clipped to his collar, "wait until they make the swap. I'll pick up Tomlin after Tang leaves with the painting. Betty, Colby, you follow Tang and get him giving the painting to Yang."

"Sounds good to me," Betty answered. "My man tells me Yang is still at the restaurant, but it looks like he's getting ready to do some traveling."

"I would imagine he is," Colby said.

"Okay," Betty said, "Tomlin's getting out of the car with the painting."

David said. "I wonder how he was planning on explaining this when he gets back to the office."

"I don't know. You'd think an agent would be smarter about committing a crime," Betty said with a chuckle.

"You'd think," David agreed. "Lucky for us most criminals are dumb as a box of rocks."

The agents watched as Tomlin approached Tang's car. The window of the Nissan rolled down as the agent approached, and Mike Tang leaned out the window.

Tom Yang's voice came across the earpieces. "Louis Tang just called Yang Chaoxiang. Crap! They're going to kill Tomlin."

"Damn!" David pulled his weapon and ran through the parking lot. As he was rounding the corner, he heard a gunshot and saw Tomlin fall. Tires squealed and the Nissan hurtled toward him. David dove out of the way, landing in the shrubs surrounding the McDonald's entrance. "Liu! Colby! Follow them! I'll get Tomlin."

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Alan stood and gave Megan a hug in greeting. "Megan, dear, you look tired. What can I get for you?"

"Something with caffeine?" Megan said as she sank into the chair Liz pulled over for her. "Oh, that smells wonderful! Alan, are you sure there's enough for everyone?"

Alan laughed. "Having raised two healthy boys, I can assure you that nobody will walk away from this table hungry, even if I have to order pizza."

With the large salad Maggie had assembled, plus a healthy quantity of crusty Italian bread, the casserole did indeed manage to feed the eight people assembled around the table.

"It's not quite the feeding of the five thousand," Ben said, lifting his glass in a toast "but, Alan, I would say you've pulled off a minor miracle."

"The thanks goes to Maggie, for her wonderful casserole, and Amita for the salad," Alan said, standing to clear the table.

Maggie and Amita stood to help. Charlie started to rise, but Alan shook his head. "Why don't you, Don and Liz fill Ben and Megan in on the events of the past few hours? Ben might have heard of that Yang guy who bought the Van Gogh, and I'm sure Megan can help you figure out why these people are doing what they're doing."

"Yang?" Ben interrupted. "The buyer's surname is Yang?"

"Yeah. Yang Chaoxiang," Don said. "Why? You've heard of him?"

"The taxi driver who brought us home the night Jason LoBella confronted us was called Gene Yang. Now, I understand Yang is a fairly common name..."

"According to the 2000 US census, Yang is in the top 400 surnames," Charlie said. "There were approximately seventy two thousand people in the country with that name."

Don was stunned. "Now how on earth do you know that? Did you memorize the rankings of all the surnames in the country?"

"Of course not," Charlie scoffed. "I was gathering data to do a network analysis. By the way, Eppes is ranked twenty five thousand two hundred eighty fourth." He turned to Liz. "Did anybody check on this Gene Yang?"

Liz shrugged. "No reason to. He just happened to be there. It was a coincidence."

"Uh oh," Megan said, grinning at Charlie. "She used that word."

Charlie returned Megan's smile, then turned to Liz. "When you talk with David, could you ask him to check on Gene Yang? Just to humor me?" He pulled out his notebook and pencil. Scowling, he held the pencil awkwardly in his left hand. After a few moments, he muttered, "Damn," and tossed the pencil on the table. "I'll be in the garage."

"Why?" Don said, "You don't want Dad to see you using your right hand?"

"No," Charlie said without a glance back. "Writing on the boards uses the large muscles. It's easier than using the small muscles of the non-dominant hand."

Liz pulled out her cell phone. "I'll call David now."

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David knelt beside Tomlin. The man hadn't stood a chance. He was probably dead before he hit the pavement. "Sinclair here," he said into his mic. "Tomlin's dead. Granger and Liu are in pursuit of two Asian males driving a blue Nissan Altima."

He heard Tom's sigh. "Okay, Agent Sinclair. I'll send evidence response to your location. I've already been in touch with Liu and Granger."

"Have the Tangs made any phone calls?"

"They called Yang and told him they're on the way with the painting and Tomlin was dead. Yang asked if they were being followed and they said no."

"Thanks, Tom. Just a second. My cell phone's ringing." David opened his cell phone. "Sinclair."

"Hey, David," Liz said. "How's everything going?"


"Tomlin's dead. Yang's men have got the Van Gogh. Colby and Betty are in pursuit. How's your day going?"

There was silence on the line for a long moment, then Liz said, "What can I do to help?"

David sighed. "Nothing at this point. Just keep an eye on things on the home front. We should have Yang and his guys soon, but for now, they're still at large. Did Megan get there yet?"

"Yeah. She's here. Alan fed us and now we're filling her in on the case. It may be nothing, but the cab driver who took Ben and Maggie home when they were accosted was named Yang. Charlie's trying to find a connection."

"You know how many Yangs there are in LA?"

"Nope. But Charlie does, I'm sure. My next call is to find out if that Yang had any kind of record."

"I'll talk to you later," David said, "Oh, and by the way, were there any leftovers? I'm starving."

"Knowing Alan, if you show up, you will not go hungry."

David grinned. "That's what I was hoping. See you later."

David closed his phone and looked down at Tomlin. Now he'd never know what kind of hold the Agincourts had on Tomlin. Or on all the other kids they corrupted over the years. He'd have to sit down and have a talk with Megan about this once they had everyone behind bars who belonged there.

Maybe she could make some sense of this.

But for now he had more pressing matters to deal with. "Colby? What's your status?"

"We're heading into Chinatown."

"The last Tom heard, they didn't think they were being followed. Does it look like they made you?"

"They'd have to be blind or overconfident not to. Any word on what's going on with Yang?"

Betty's voice interrupted. "Yang's had his car brought around. The Tang brothers are pretty low level. It's possible they wouldn't know we were on them."

"Are your people in place there at the restaurant, Liu?"

"Yeah. They're ready and waiting."

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Liz ended the call with David and immediately dialed again. At Don's questioning look, she whispered, "Just a minute." Once she had received the information about Gene Yang, she closed the phone. "Okay, they're emailing Gene Yang's information to Charlie."

Don's patience was wearing thin. "What did David have to say?"

"Tomlin's dead. The Tangs have the painting and are taking it to Yang in Chinatown. Colby and Liu are pursuing the Tangs, and David is waiting for evidence response."

Don stood and paced, rubbing his face with both hands. "Damn. It's hard to just sit here and do nothing."

"Donnie," Alan said from the kitchen doorway, "if you want to do something, go help with the dishes."

Don grinned. "I think I'll join Liz and Charlie in the garage instead."

Liz sat on the ratty old sofa, watching Charlie. She turned when Don entered. "You come to watch your brother try to write?"

"Ah, Liz, that's harsh," Don said walking to Charlie's side. "It is interesting. I couldn't read his math gibberish before. Now I can't even make out the English words."

"Funny," Charlie muttered. "Why don't you two go patrol the perimeter or something?"

"Seriously, Charlie, what are you working on?"

"I'm adding the cab driver to the mix. I'm just waiting for the email..." he paused as his computer beeped. "This might be it. Excuse me," he said as he pushed past Don. "Don't touch any of that," he added, "I can read it even if you can't."

Don chuckled. "I know you can, Buddy."

Charlie opened the most recent email. "Okay, this is what I was waiting for. Unless either of you two can help me input this, could you go ask Amita if she could come in here?"

"Grumpy, isn't he?" Liz murmured to Don as she stood.

"I'm only grumpy when I get picked on," Charlie growled. "Which, around here happens ninety nine percent of the time," he added.

"That's it," Liz said, laughing. "I'm going to go get Amita and leave you to your brotherly sniping."

Don took Liz's place on the couch, leaned back and closed his eyes. "I don't know about you, Buddy, but I'm too tired to snipe."

Charlie sat next to Don. "You feeling okay?"

"Just tired. I think it's that pain medication. How are you feeling?"

"My arm's sore. I think that's what's making me grumpy, actually. That and having to use my left hand. I think it's giving me a headache."

"Your arm is giving you a headache?" Don opened his eyes. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It does if you consider my brain is trying to learn a new way of doing things. If it wasn't so annoying, it would be interesting. Have you ever tried writing with your left hand?"

"Yeah, once or twice back in school. I tried to make myself ambidextrous."

"Really? Why?"

"Can you imagine how great it would be to have a pitcher who could throw with either arm? He could match up with whatever batter he was facing."

Charlie nodded. "That would be cool. I wonder why they've never had anyone do that before. There must be some ambidextrous baseball players...." He went back to his computer. "I'm going to see what I can find..."

"Charlie?" Amita said from the doorway. "Liz said you needed my help?"

Don craned his neck to look at Amita. "Do you happen to know of any ambidextrous baseball players?"

"What?! No!" Amita said, shaking her head. "I thought it was something to do with the case, not sports."

"Don't listen to him," Charlie said. "I think the drugs are messing with his brain. I do need some help inputting some new data from the FBI. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Amita said, sitting beside him.

"If you two are going to do math stuff, I'm going to take a nap," Don murmured, stretching out on the couch. "Wake me up when you get back to baseball."