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 TWO

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So much for the nice day, Don thought. He made it to his feet and keeping a hand on the wall for support he stepped into the cabin. His feet were then tripped out from under him and he sprawled back onto the deck as the door slammed shut. Hands pulled his shirt up, going over his waist before patting at his ankles, checking for weapons but finding nothing. The search over Don sat up and watched as the one of the men properly secured the door before they all took up seats braced on the bunks. Standing on the unstable deck was not a good idea, especially as all three men were now holding pistols. Don thought it was a tad overkill, but he was hardly in a position to argue. He wondered where they got the guns from then noticed that the bag that one had brought onboard with them from their sinking boat was sitting open on a bunk.

"You fire one of those and the crew will be on you in seconds." Don warned.

"But you'll be dead." The man who first produced a gun said.

True, Don chalked the point up to him. "So what now?"

"You remember me yet, Fed?" The second man said.

Don turned his head to the man with the bleached blonde hair. There was something familiar about him but he couldn't place it yet. "Your name might help."

"Anton. Anton Spinks."

Ah, yes he did remember now, that would explain the less than friendly tone. The hair had been dark brown back then, not dyed. He and Terry had pinched Spinks for drug trafficking three and a half years ago only to see him get off on a technicality six months later at the trial. Spinks had then disappeared off the radar and Don had forgotten about him. "So you didn't leave LA after all."

"Nah. Too good here."

"So who are your friends?"

"What do you think this is Fed, a tea party?" Spinks waggled his gun.

"Hardly." Don braced himself against another lurch of the Seahawk. "But you know who I am and we're obviously going to spend some quality time together."

Spinks looked to the man seated closest to the door, the one who had pulled the gun in the corridor. Don got the feeling he was the leader.

"Call me Tom." The leader said.

"So where do we go from here, Tom?" Don asked.

"'Where' is the thing." Tom said pulling out a GPS. He pointed at the phone mounted on the wall. "You know how to work that to call the captain?"

"This is nuts." The other man interrupted. His had been the voice arguing against Spinks' plan earlier. "There are ten of them and only three of us. Plus they got an arsenal locked away somewhere."

Don thought that was the wisest thing he'd heard from any of them so far. Their three handguns against the Seahawk's arsenal of three M-16s, two riot shotguns and six 9mm pistols. Enough weapons to arm the entire crew of ten with one gun spare.

"Shut-up, Cam." Spinks said. "They won't do nothing with a fed hostage. Isn't that right, Fed?"

Regrettably, Spinks was right. Another point to the bad guys. "Yeah."

"We should wait until we get in to the marina then he's our ticket out of here." Cam persisted.

Definitely the smartest of the three. It was the plan Don would have gone with in their position, simple and guaranteed to work with the element of surprise on their side. The Coast Guard's weapons would all be locked up and there would be no armed opposition.

"No. We go with Anton's plan." Tom fiddled with the GPS but it wasn't able to receive a signal with all the metal of the Seahawk's superstructure between the instrument and the satellites.

"So where is that?" Don indicated the GPS, assuming Tom had a waypoint set.

"A few miles back that way. The boat we were going to meet."

They'd left it too long if they still wanted to meet their friends. "You think they'd really still be hanging around out there waiting for you? In this?"

Tom seemed to concede that this time Don was right. Point to Don. He looked to his men then back at his prisoner. "Maybe we need to ring them first."

Don nearly snorted at how ridiculous that sounded. If things weren't so serious he would have. But now was not the time or place, these three were actually planning to hijack the Coast Guard cutter. There was another, older term for it. Piracy.

Tom lifted the handset off the wall cradle. "What's the captain's number?"

Don grudgingly told him the number for the bridge and waited as Tom dialled.

"Captain?" Tom said as the call was answered. He listened for a moment then appeared to change his mind, covering the microphone. He held the handset out to his prisoner. "They're just getting her. You convince her to come down here. Alone."

Don started to his feet but changed his mind when Spinks cocked his gun and shook his head. Instead the agent scooted over on the deck to take the handset from Tom's hand. His breath caught briefly as Tom's gun settled on his temple.

"Dylan." The woman's voice came from the phone speaker.

"Lieutenant, this is Don."

"How are you all doing down there? Not too rough for you I hope? Another couple of hours or so and we should be right." She said cheerfully.

"Lieutenant, I need to see you for a minute."

"Just a little bit busy at the moment."

"I'm sure, but this is important." Don said. Tom's gun pressed a little harder. "Official business."

Don could feel her thinking that over. She knew he was here as a tag-along with his brother. What could suddenly be official business in the middle of the ocean when she knew he had no contact with shore? He could almost hear the thoughts.

"What is it?" She asked after a second or so.

"Come down to the crew quarters. I'll meet you there."

"This better be good, Agent." Her voice was not so cheerful now. She had eighteen people, nineteen including herself, to keep safe.

"Yeah, it's good." Don said as she hung up. Tom took the handset back.

"Back over there, Fed." Tom ordered flicking his gun towards the corner where Don had been sitting. "Cam, watch him."

Don scooted back and sat where he was directed. Cam shifted his position on the bunk so that he was sitting with his knee against Don's left shoulder wedging the agent into the corner. Don felt an additional pressure on his shoulder and looked down to see the muzzle of Cam's gun resting there. This was so not good. Hopefully Dylan would come up with something. He was sure she would be released to follow their demands while they kept him under their guns.

A few minutes later there was a knock from down the corridor and a soft voice calling out, "Agent Eppes?" The lieutenant would have gone to the cabin she had assigned to their group.

Tom nodded at him as he unlatched the door. Don reluctantly called out: "In here, Lieutenant."

A couple of seconds later the door slid aside. Tom reached out grabbed a slim wrist and pulled the lieutenant into the now crowded room. Cabins on 87' coastal patrol boats weren't all that large to start with and now there were five of them crowded into this one.

"What the-?" The lieutenant exclaimed as Tom slammed the door shut behind her and latched it. She saw the guns and fell silent.

"Sorry, Lieutenant." Don apologised.

She noted the small trickle of blood down his chin from his split lip. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Got the jump on me."

"What do they want?"

"Sit." Tom ordered. The lieutenant had been keeping her balance with practiced grace, holding onto a shelf bolted to the wall. Tom was not so skilful and didn't want the Coast Guard officer standing over him.

The lieutenant lowered herself until she sat cross legged beside Don waiting to find out what was going on. Tom explained his plan. "Ringing your friends is easy enough." She said when he finished. "But if they are still out there it is too dangerous to do a ship-to-ship transfer in these seas."

"You did it before."

"That was a rescue." The lieutenant explained. "It's dark now, plus the conditions further out are worsening and will be beyond our rating soon." They were rated up to Sea State 5, but the low pressure system that had suddenly decided to spin up out of nothing was threatening to rapidly push the classification up a peg or two.

"I don't care what your rating is."

"You should. I hope your friends have headed inshore, otherwise they are going to be in trouble soon."

"That's why we're gonna ring them." Tom said. "Can you patch it through to here?"

"No. You have to ring from the bridge."

"Then that's what we'll do."

Don and the Coast Guard officer exchanged glances. Don had expected orders to be given and the officer released. He hadn't expected Tom to go with the lieutenant to the bridge. But Tom would have to be the one to make the call, Don knew that a call from the lieutenant, 'Hi, this is the Coast Guard can we have your lat. and long.?' would only make the other boat disappear.

Tom seemed to understand their real concern. Once this little scenario became common knowledge it was going to be difficult for them to control everyone on the boat. They needed to push that eventuality off for as long as they could. He dug into their bag and pulled out a light sweater. He tucked his gun away into his belt and pulled the sweater on over the top, concealing it. "We find out where they are and head their way."

"Not if they are further out to sea." She flat refused.

"Cam."

Cam cocked his gun and put it to the side of Don's head.

"Not even if you threaten to shoot him." Lieutenant Dylan insisted. Her eyes apologised to Don before she turned back to Tom. "I have everyone on this boat to worry about, including you. If they are out further it is too dangerous. You'll have to think of something else."

"Listen to her Tom." Don supported the Coast Guard officer, he had Charlie to think about as well as the students. They weren't paid to take risks like this. "I think you're making a mistake. Cam here had the better idea, let's just head inshore and I'll make sure you get away safely."

"Too late now. We have to let her go and she'll radio it in." Tom said, smart enough to know he couldn't stay with her on the bridge, nor could they hold her here, without giving the game away.

"Not if you tell her not to." While they were stuck out at sea it didn't really matter if she radioed her shore base, it would take too long to get the LAPD's water police or any other nearby Coast Guard vessel into the area. It would only be an issue if they headed in.

Tom seemed to consider it for a moment but then discarded the idea. "I think we're safer out here. Let's go."

That was a relative term if ever Don had heard one. He shared another glance with Lieutenant Dylan before she stood.

"Don't do anything stupid, Agent. This is my boat and I don't want a fire fight on board." Lieutenant Dylan ordered.

"No, Ma'am." With one gun above decks on her and the other two on him, one of which was still against his head, there wasn't anything he could do anyway. When Tom came back after his call the odds would be three-to-one against Don. It was her boat, her command and her play to resolve this. Besides, if he was incapacitated as a hostage Tom and his friends would look elsewhere for leverage, starting with the civilians on the mess deck. No, he would watch and wait.

The door slid shut behind the lieutenant and Tom. Spinks locked the latch. Finally Cam moved his gun away from the side of Don's head and released the hammer. Don resisted the temptation to rub the side of his head where the muzzle had rested. Another 'pothole' and the Seahawk shuddered again. Don was relieved that hadn't happened a few seconds earlier although he was reasonably sure Cam's gun still had the safety on.

"Where are your handcuffs, Fed?" Spinks demanded.

Oh, no. His backpack. Don didn't want them getting hold of another gun. "In my SUV at the marina."

"Yeah, sure." Spinks wasn't convinced.

Spinks lunged forward and swung his gun. Don tried but despite his best effort to duck the weapon still caught him on the temple. Don blinked through the sudden tears caused by the stinging pain, raising his right hand to touch the wound caused by the gun sight. His fingers came away bloody. He looked back up. "This is a Coast Guard cutter, I didn't need my kit. You know I've got nothing." Don allowed a bitterness to creep into his voice. He waved his left hand at his own belt which had already been searched, bare of even his badge.

"That's right, you got nothin'." Spinks sneered.

Don knew he'd walked right into that one but it had done the trick, Spinks believed him. The man in question turned and dug into their bag. He came up with a windbreaker causing Don to frown wondering what he was up to. It all became clear as Spinks pulled the long cord from the hem. Handcuffs, Spinks had asked for, he wanted to restrain their hostage.

Spinks put his gun into the bag after passing a meaningful glance at Cam. Cam's gun came back up as Spinks knelt in front of the agent. Don raised his hands, wrists together before the man could ask. It was obvious what the drug runner wanted. As the cord was looped around his wrists Don clenched his fists against the tightness, tensing his wrists in an effort to slightly increase their diameter.

"Not too tight." Cam suddenly said to Don's surprise. He hardly expected him to care.

Spinks grunted and continued his work, pulling the cord as tight as he could. Don winced and hissed through his teeth as the thin cord bit painfully into his wrists, cutting off all circulation.

"Anton," Cam said warningly. "Not so tight. You'll cause permanent damage."

"What do I care about damaging a fed? You know how much he cost me?"

"I know you don't care, but they do. If they see his hands going black they'll act. Loosen it off."

"They're not gonna see." Spinks protested but undid the knots and jerked roughly at the cord, loosening the loops. Don's hands suddenly flushed pink as the circulation was restored. Spinks retied the knots and moved back a little.

Don relaxed his hands and twisted his wrists cautiously, testing to be sure he had full circulation. The cord was still tight enough that he wouldn't be pulling his hands loose. He couldn't work on the knots either whilst he was being watched. He was glad Cam had him pinned into the corner, with his hands bound he wouldn't be able to keep his balance so well.

Concentrating on his wrists Don didn't see it coming, the punch snapping his head back to connect solidly with the wall, two hits for the price of one. For the second time that evening he saw stars and automatically raised his arms, forearms together to shield his face from the next blow as Spinks drew his fist back. He caught a secondary hit to his face as Spinks connected with his forearms. Don's knees started to come up as he tried to roll himself into a ball but in his dazed state he wasn't quick enough, the next couple of punches breaking through his defence to reach his stomach and solar plexus. He curled up coughing, taking the next hit on his side, dangerously close to the sensitive kidney.

He couldn't fight back, not with Dylan now under threat from Tom. All he could do was try to protect himself as best he could. He pushed himself as tightly into the corner trying to protect his back and kidneys. He dimly heard Cam call out: "Anton, stop."

After one more blow, this time getting past his forearms to strike the side of head, the attack stopped. Don didn't move. He kept his hands up over his head, forearms protecting his face, knees up against his chest and back pressed into the corner. He sat there, panting and coughing as he tried to keep his dinner down and hoped the stars would go away soon. The violence was expected. Spinks had spent six months on remand before being released on the technicality. He now had one of the agent's responsible at his mercy. Spinks wasn't brave enough to take on an armed agent, but a helpless one? Yeah, he was brave enough for that.

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A/N: Things seem to be going from bad to worse. Thanks for all the reviews!