Disclaimer – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
CHAPTER FOUR
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Don spun to see an LAPD officer. He looked behind the woman to see a squad car and several ambulances. EMT's were starting to move the wounded. In situations like this he knew the procedure was to remove all obviously mobile patients from the immediate vicinity of the explosion before commencing full triage. He nodded. "I'm Eppes."
She grabbed her radio and called in that she had found him. An instruction came back to get him to the northern parking lot.
"Command post?" Don queried as he followed her to the squad car.
"Yeah. I'm taking you to the shift supervisor." She answered.
Don realised that not much time had actually passed since the explosions, twenty minutes at the most. It took a few more minutes to make their way to the north side of the building, dodging around cars still stuck on the ring road and avoiding some pedestrians that were wandering around in confusion. Finally they screeched to a halt near some other squad cars and a larger truck. Don followed his escort over to a sergeant who was issuing orders to some officers. Another sergeant in coveralls stood next to him.
The uniformed sergeant glanced at him, finished his instructions then introduced himself and his colleague as the other officers raced off. "Sergeant Gavin Harrison, north LA supervisor, Sergeant Andrew Moran, bomb disposal."
"Don Eppes." They shook hands.
"What have you got?" Harrison asked making notations on his clipboard.
"I've been contacted by the bombers." Don started. He then told the man about the threat of internal bombs and that he had ordered the building locked down.
"How many inside?"
"Not sure, could be as many as two thousand. Maybe more."
The shift supervisor swore. There would be a lot of that today Don knew. "Alright. We'll evacuate everyone from outside. Bomb disposal are going to go over the exterior, make sure that there are no more explosives."
Don nodded, that had not been forbidden.
"Do you know what type of explosives we're up against?" Moran asked.
"I don't know what was used outside." Don answered. "They showed me one of the internal bombs; remote controlled, two bricks of C4 packed with nails and ball bearings."
"Anti-personnel." Moran identified. "Nasty. How many?"
"Five, that they've told me." Don realised he had no reason to expect that there weren't any more. Telford hadn't told him about the ones at the entrance until just before detonation.
"Do you know where they are placed?"
"No. There are a lot of places in there that would amplify the effect." Don said locking down a shudder at the thought. Plant such a bomb behind a glass window and the shrapnel would be increased. There were a lot of glass windows inside the mall. And with all the open concourse areas the resultant shrapnel and remaining ball bearings would be able to travel a fair way, injuring many.
Moran nodded in agreement. He looked to Harrison. "We'll get to work." The bomb disposal man strode off towards where his men were waiting patiently by their truck checking over equipment.
"Agent Eppes!" A woman's voice called out from behind them. "Agent Eppes!"
Harrison and the agent turned to see a woman jogging towards them. She was followed by a man carrying a television camera. Harrison groaned, that was all he needed, the media. It was inevitable, he'd just been hoping it would take them longer to get around the traffic snarl. He should have realised though that small things such as traffic laws wouldn't stop them. The media always find a way through. Sure enough, another reporter and another cameraman were a short distance behind.
Don's normal reaction was the same as Harrison. He preferred to avoid the media where possible, the FBI field office had an agent assigned as a media liaison. Today was not a normal day however. He then realised that he had been called by name.
The first reporter reached him. "Mandy Simpkins, K-CAL 9. You are Agent Eppes?"
"Yes. How did you know my name?" He demanded. The second reporter and cameraman arrived. Now he had two microphones shoved under his nose.
Mandy pulled her microphone back. "We received a message telling us you were here. The mad bomber Zuheen is in contact with you isn't he?"
"Who told you that?" Don asked as the microphone reappeared under his nose. It was disconcerting and he tried to ignore it, speaking directly at the first reporter.
"K-CAL 9 received a coded message just now informing us that there are bombs in the North LA Mall. He told us that you, Agent Eppes, are his contact. What more can you give us?"
Don remembered that Telford had said the media would know he was involved directly. Sending the media a coded message using Zuheen's code was part of the proof they mentioned, proof that Zuheen had set the bombs in the mall. Don felt his blood pressure rise as he was again forced to act against his training and instincts. "I can confirm that there are bombs inside the mall. No one is allowed out. A number of smaller bombs have gone off at the entrances."
Harrison looked at Don in disbelief as the second reporter fired off a question.
"KTLA, Bob Warner reporting. How many bombs inside?" The man asked.
"Five bombs."
"When will they go off? What does Zuheen want?" K-CAL 9 jumped in.
"We have 24 hours. No one is allowed in or out of the mall. He's holding two thousand people hostage. I'm waiting to be contacted with further demands." Don said.
"When will he call you?" KTLA demanded.
"I don't know."
"Why has Zuheen targeted the mall?"
"I don't know."
"This is Zuheen's first attack since France. How long has Zuheen been in the country?
"I don't know." Don was getting exasperated. This was worse than an interrogation. The questions were coming faster than he could think and showed no signs of stopping.
"But you knew he was here. How long have the FBI been tracking him? When did you know he was in California?"
"I can't answer that." Don had had enough, he turned and walked away. Harrison had waved over a couple of officers who managed to hold the reporters back as Don went over to the bomb disposal truck to put as much room between him and the media as he could for the moment.
Harrison bailed him up as he got there. "What the hell was that all about, agent? Now half of LA is going to panic, the other half will be panicking in a few minutes when the first half call them."
Don faced the angry sergeant, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he answered. "I had no choice. Zuheen wants me to speak to the media. If I don't one of the bombs will be set off."
Harrison wasn't happy but he could hardly argue. "Well I don't have to deal with them. When I get enough officers here to form a proper set of cordons they will be pushed right back. Nothing I can do about them though." He added looking upwards as a helicopter buzzed overhead.
Don also looked up and saw the livery of another news service on the side of a helicopter barely 500 feet up. He saw the glint of light off the camera lens mounted under the machine as it circled overhead. There was nothing he could do about them either; there was no threat at this point that could close the airspace over the mall.
"Can someone run me back to my SUV?" Don asked.
Harrison waved over a newly arrived officer. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to do the perimeter of the building and come back here. I've called my office so there should be agents here shortly. The Joint Terrorism Task Force will be activated and someone from that will take over as Incident Commander. I need to be able to make a full report for handover."
Harrison knew what that was all about. As the senior LAPD officer on scene he was the Police Forward Commander, a role that he would be gladly relinquishing once someone superior to him arrived. He made another note on his clipboard. Until he could spare someone to act as record keeper, he had to do that as well. He looked at his officer. "Take Agent Eppes back to his vehicle. Then come back here for tasking."
"Yes Sarge." He headed back to his squad car with Don in tow.
The trip back was quicker than before, most of the traffic had been finally moved off the ring road and away from the building. He saw that the EMTs were collecting the last of the wounded near the east entrance as they turned down the row Don indicated. He sent the LAPD officer back as he unlocked his SUV.
His trip around the perimeter of the large building took a while, especially when he stopped near each entranceway to check on damage, injuries and the security of the emergency shutters. Don saw that the entrances were mostly clear now, with LAPD at each. He spoke to the officers impressing upon them the need to ensure that the building was secure. He learnt that no-one had died but several people had received severe injuries and many more suffered minor shrapnel wounds and shock.
He finally returned to the north carpark and was surprised to see how many emergency services vehicles were now waiting there. Everything from LAPD SWAT trucks to fire trucks. As Don drove around looking for a spot to park he saw a set of black SUVs with tags he recognised from his building. He steered towards them and pulled to a stop. A few heads from a group of people standing nearby turned as he did so. By the time he turned the engine off three had started his way.
"Hey Don." Megan called out by way of greeting, following up with: "Merrick's pissed."
"Yeah, I kinda thought he would be." Don said. "I'm sure glad to see you guys." He didn't just mean his team, he meant the entire federal contingent.
"What happened to you?" Colby said peering at Don's split lip. "Got too close to one of the explosions?"
"No." Don answered without thinking. "Got too close to a terrorist."
"You got one of them?" David cut in.
"No." Don touched his lip, he'd forgotten all about it until now. It felt swollen and he noticed that it hurt as he spoke. How had he not felt it until now? "A terrorist got me."
"How's that?" Colby asked, alarmed.
"Agent Eppes!"
Don and his team turned. The Assistant Director in Charge was definitely pissed. He had stepped away from the other agents he'd been speaking to and was waving his arm in abrupt motions, come here! Don squared his shoulders and walked over, meeting the ADIC alone at the front of one of the SUVs.
"You were a SAC, you should know better." Merrick started in, his words no less forceful for the lack of volume. "Never speak to the media without approval. You know what panic your little interview is causing?"
Don had been a Special Agent in Charge, running the Albuquerque field office and did know better. Speaking to the media was something best left to media liaison officers who not only knew what to say but more importantly how to say it. It was drilled into the trainees at Quantico and was a part of every other law enforcement agency's training. After a few years of service, distrust of the media became ingrained, even offenders at times seemed more trustworthy. "I know. I had no choice."
"I'm listening."
Don told his tale, carefully edited, of how a representative of Zuheen had taken him, shown him a bomb and demanded he act as go between. He'd decided it would be best if he didn't claim to have met the terrorist himself. He knew very little about the man but there were others that did. It would be too easy to slip up on a detail and expose the whole deception.
"Alright." Merrick said neutrally, not making comment on whether or not he believed his subordinate. "Why you?"
Don had a theory on that. Telford and his employer could have picked someone else but Telford had picked him. Don thought that was the key, Telford had picked him and clearly enjoyed having power over him. The agent knew that Telford carried a grudge, he had said as much back in the car in the middle of the desert all those months ago. "I don't know. Right place, right time I guess."
Merrick grunted. He was not stupid. In normal circumstances perhaps you could distinguish an FBI agent on the street, there was a certain attitude, if you like, that went along with the suit and sunglasses. In a winter coat and a crowd however it wasn't as easy to differentiate an FBI agent from any other man wearing business style clothing. He let it go for now. "What does he want then?"
Don ran his hand through his hair. "Aside from media coverage, I don't know yet."
Merrick thought for a few seconds, staring at his agent trying to read more from his body language. Not too much forthcoming from that angle. He reached a decision. "Right. You're compromised."
Don automatically started to raise an objection but stopped with Merrick's raised hand. It was true. He'd surrendered control of himself, of his very life, to Telford. He was compromised. He'd as good as said that there may be further demands made of him. His interview with the media demonstrated his compliance with the demands made thus far and therefore the likelihood of him following further instructions was strong. Don knew that, if the situations were reversed, he wouldn't trust him either.
"Go back to the office. I want you in the major incident room when I get back there." Merrick turned away, dismissing his agent.
"But I have to…." Don started to say.
"You just have to stay available; you can do that just as well at the MIR."
"Yes sir." He yanked his keys from his pocket and went back to his SUV. He didn't see the quick conversation between Merrick and Reeves.
"Don, wait up." Megan called out as he jumped into the driver's seat.
Don looked out the windshield as his passenger door opened and Megan climbed in. He saw Merrick watching and realised that he'd sent her to go with him. She was his partner and Merrick probably considered her to be compromised as well. "So he sent you to baby sit me, huh?" The words came out with a bit more venom behind them than he intended. He wasn't angry with her.
Megan looked at him in response to his tone. "Something like that, yeah."
Don chirped his tyres as he reversed enough to get a clear path away from the other vehicles. Merrick cast a disapproving glare in his direction but that was the least of his worries.
