Numb3rs: Phobia
Numb3rs: Phobia
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. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
A/N: Hi everyone. Yes I'm back, finally. It has been hectic few months and now that things are starting to settle down I find I am able to write again. I'm going to be moving into the new house in a couple of weeks and things should get back to normal once again. Enjoy!
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The two sailors went into a huddle, speaking in hushed tones. Don tried but couldn't quite follow what they were saying due to the other ship's noises that successfully drowned them out.
"How did you get here today, Agent?" Martin finally asked.
Why it made any difference he wasn't sure. "I drove."
"Alone?"
Actually he had. He was supposed to bring the rest of the team with him in the SUV. The only problem was he was also supposed to go straight to Charlie's after work for dinner. To make that drive from here and arrive at a reasonable hour required that he avoid the worst of the peak hour traffic in LA. That meant avoiding the FBI Field Office. The rest of the team had no plans and offered to come separately in another vehicle. "Yes."
Martin returned to his private conversation with Tod. Don watched closely and soon their body language changed, their expressions suddenly positive and relieved. They had come to a conclusion that worked for them. Don wondered if it would work for him.
"Stand up." Martin ordered, returning to face the agent.
This didn't sound so good. Don struggled to his feet, a little woozy still from the blows to his head.
"Turn around. Assume the position."
Don turned and leant against the wall, finding a couple of relatively safe areas in amongst the fittings to brace his forearms as far apart as he could to maintain his balance in anticipation of what might come next. Sure enough, his feet were kicked apart, definitely too many movies or well meaning cop shows. He was then searched and his cell phone, handcuffs, keys and wallet were taken. Once they had decided he was clean he was allowed to turn around and the gun jerked downwards in an obvious command to sit once again. He complied and watched silently as they searched the contents of his wallet before it was unexpectedly tossed back at him. A little surprised he picked it up out of his lap and with difficulty slid it into a pocket on his windbreaker.
"We got enough going on Agent that we don't need to rob you of a lousy couple of hundred bucks." Martin explained.
"You're too kind."
Martin curled his lip a little at that but made no other comment. He had a closer look at the car keys in his hand. "Chevy. What sort?"
"Suburban."
"Cool. Where?"
"Parking lot." Where else?
Martin suddenly crouched and pushed the muzzle of the gun hard up under Don's chin forcing his head back. "If you keep playing games I might decide it will be easier just to kill you."
A little bit too much snark there, Donny, he thought to himself. With his neck stretched back it was hard to talk but he managed. "No games." The gun remained. "Lot closest to the dock. Black suburban. Government tags."
"Very funny. I'm sure there are a few of those down there today."
Very true, but only one would respond to the key tag remote. With the gun still firmly in place he decided not to point that out, instead rattling off the number on the plate.
"Better." The sailor moved back. He held the SUV keys out to the younger man.
"You sure?"
Martin looked a little exasperated. Don sympathised, little brothers could do that. "We just talked about this. Take the SUV and park it somewhere out of sight. They'll think he left."
Tod looked at Don as if seeking his opinion on the matter. Don for his part kept his face neutral, it was actually a good idea but he didn't want them to know that.
"What about the stuff? What if they find his truck and search it?"
"If they are looking for it in the first place it really makes no difference, they'll know something is wrong."
"But they'll take the stuff."
"Well then we'll get it back, won't we?"
"Why don't you do it?"
"I'm on duty."
"But what if the feds see me?"
Martin resorted to slapping Tod on the back of his head. It looked like a familiar routine between the two. "This is your mess I'm fixing. You have to take some of the risk. If they do arrest you I've still got him, remember?"
"Oww!" Tod rubbed at the back of his head eying off Don as he did so, seemingly blaming him for the clip to the head.
"If you don't like that plan, I can suggest another." Don offered.
"Shut up!" Martin snapped. He didn't even look at the seated agent. He raised his hand and pointed at one of the airtight doors. "Tod, move it."
The other man moved, grabbing the bag before opening the hatch cautiously and stepping out. As it was dogged back into place Don turned his attention back to Martin. "If you are meant to be working won't they miss you?"
"Not for a while yet. Besides, this is one of my duty stations."
Speaking of being missed, Don's cell took that moment to start ringing. This deep in the ship he wouldn't have thought it was possible to have cell reception. The ship must have been wired to allow for phone transmissions, either that or it was some freak effect of all the pipes.
Martin pulled the offending phone from his pocket, glanced at the display then presented the screen to Don. "Who is it?"
The screen showed the caller ID as 'Megan'. Don thought furiously. Which way should he play this? Tell them that the caller was his girlfriend, his boss, his partner or housekeeper? Which would give him the best result, warning Megan that he was in trouble without alerting the sailor? Was warning her even the best option at this point? It all came down to what they were intending to do with him and that was an unknown. On the other hand, Martin was pointing a gun at him, which was plenty intention enough.
"My boss." Don decided.
"If you don't answer?"
"She'll be pissed."
"Is she here?"
"Yeah."
"Answer it. Tell her you've had to leave."
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Megan tapped her fingers on the back of her cell in impatience. How long did it take to answer a call? Finally a click and an open line.
"Hello? This is Special Agent Eppes."
That wasn't right. Where was the clipped 'Eppes' that normally greeted a caller? "Don?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Don, what-?"
"Boss, I'm sorry, but I had to leave in a hurry."
"Don why-?"
"Hot tip. I'm on my way now."
"Don, I need-"
"I know. I promise I'll get it to you first thing. I'm a bit tied up right now though. I have to go." The line went dead.
Megan stared at her phone in consternation. Just what the hell was going on with Don? And what was with the whole 'boss' thing? She'd had a few strange calls from her team leader before; sometimes it was hard to tell if he was joking around. He had deadpan down pat. But something didn't seem quite right this time. She dialled again but the phone went to voice mail. She hesitated, if he really had gone to a job of some sort it was reasonable that he might have now diverted his phone. Nah, something was wrong.
She caught David and Colby's attention, waving them over. The first thing that they had to do was find out whether he really had left or not. The best way to do that was to go and check on his SUV parked a short distance from their sedan in the lot near the ship.
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Don pressed the 'end' button and closed the phone. It had been close, Martin insisting on the phone being on speaker just as Don had answered it. He'd had to cut Megan off to prevent her from blowing the whole thing. But the call would have achieved his purpose, he was sufficiently out of character to start setting off her alarm bells. A hand appeared in his field of view and he surrendered the phone.
He looked up to see Martin frowning a little. He waited but no comment was made, Martin didn't know him so really didn't have anything to base any suspicions on. Don had complied with his order, not saying anything that could immediately cause alarm.
"So what now?"
"When Tod comes back I go back to work. When it gets late we'll be on our way."
Despite his earlier offers to make suggestions Don remained silent. This plan was one that worked in his favour. If the two sailors had taken off now they had a real chance of escaping. By delaying, the odds shifted more to Don's side for at least two main reasons. If they were planning on leaving Don behind then a search would be in earnest by then and he should be quickly located. It they were intending on taking him with them then it was that more likely that base security and navy police would be in a position to stop them.
Martin smiled. "You even get to help us take the stuff off the base."
That answered that question, he was going with them. And raised another, were these two connected to the jewellery smuggling ring that they'd thought completely broken? He thought back to the sea bag. "What is this 'stuff' you keep going on about?"
"None of your business."
"Whatever." So, he wasn't going to get anywhere with that line of inquiry. Don shrugged and leant back against the wall, the very picture of boredom. He watched for a few minutes but things appeared stable for now, Martin leaning against the opposite wall. The agent shifted to a slightly more comfortable position and allowed his eyes to close. Whilst the pounding in his head had eased, he still had a killer headache and some rest was about all he could do for himself just now.
Tod returned about half an hour later, carrying a small backpack which he dumped on the deck just inside the door as he closed it.
"What took you so long?" Martin demanded.
"They know something is wrong."
The other man glared at their captive. Don stared blandly back, daring Martin to find fault with anything that he had done. He'd been the model hostage.
Tod continued. "There were agents hanging around in the parking lot when I came back. They asked me if I'd seen him and described his SUV."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd seen his truck leave the gate a while ago."
Martin nodded. "That should buy us some time."
Don doubted it. If they were asking around they wouldn't leave it at that. With no answer on his cell phone now that Martin had turned it off, they would try his radio. The next step would be the GPS on his SUV and that's when it would all fall apart. The guard on the gate would also confirm that he had never left. Megan would ensure that the military implemented a search. In the interim however there was nothing much he could do.
Tod dug into his bag and pulled out a length of light rope. "Will this do?"
"That will be fine." He turned to see Don looking at him with a degree of concern. He indicated the agent's bound hands. "You didn't think I was going to leave you alone with my brother like that did you?"
"The thought crossed my mind." He'd been doing some planning. Tod was the weakest link of the two. He was hardly a professional at keeping a prisoner under control and could be pushed into making a mistake. Even bound, Don was willing to take advantage of an opportunity if he managed to create one. Martin had obviously done some planning of his own.
"Exactly. Lay down on your stomach."
Don held his position for a second or two but reluctantly decided that he had no other option than to cooperate. He was already at risk, but on the plus side Martin had already indicated that they wanted him alive. The man was just going to make sure that Don didn't get himself, or Tod killed. He slid down onto his side and then rolled onto his stomach, his hands trapped uncomfortably beneath him. He didn't resist as his ankles were drawn together and bound. He did mount an objection however at the next step in Martin's plan.
.