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.

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Don had been watching Martin work as best he could and had thought the man had finished when he sat back. He then noticed there was a length of rope left loose after the knots had been tied. Martin started to tie another knot and Don suddenly understood what the sailor was planning.

"Ah, Martin?" He began, apprehension clear in his voice. "I'd really rather you left that part out."

"I'm sure you would."

"Martin. I'm serious."

The sailor realised that Don's attitude had completely changed. He stopped and met the agent's eyes briefly before continuing with the knot. "About time you took this for real."

"I've seen people die from that. I give you my word, it is not necessary." He was starting to get desperate.

The loop was now completed. Martin's next move would be to put it around Don's neck and tighten the joining length of rope to force his legs up behind him, putting pressure on his throat. Normally the victim's hands were behind the back and the line looped through but even though his hands were still in front of him, the end result would likely be the same. After a while he would tire of holding his legs up to relieve the pressure on his neck and the noose would strangle him. He doubted Martin intended for that to happen but that was not the point. It was a likely result and not a pleasant way to die. Another unwanted influence from television, it looked impressive trussing a prisoner up that way but Don had seen firsthand a victim of the technique.

It had been not long after leaving the academy, one of his first homicide scenes in fact. It had taken some time to get the man's face and the horror of his death out of his mind. Since then he'd seen so much death over the years, some of which he'd even caused himself and the memory had finally faded to be virtually forgotten. So he was a little surprised at his immediate reaction to the loop of rope. It made no sense that his heart was racing and his palms were becoming sweaty. Don recognised he was in the early signs of panic at the thought of Martin placing the loop of rope around his neck. It was all he could think about just now, all that he could see was the rope around that other man's neck, the look on his swollen and blackened face. Johan Fredericks had died hard.

Martin hesitated, staring again into Don's eyes. He could see the fear. Then a slow smile curved his lips. The agent's smart assed attitude had really annoyed him, after already being in a bad mood because of Tod's actions. Here was a gift wrapped way to get his own back. He lengthened the cord between Don's ankles and the loop, retying one of the knots. He then reached towards the agent's head with the loop.

Don bucked, changing the position of his bound hands under his body, creating leverage. He pushed, starting to lift his torso and twist. His resistance was short lived, Tod jumped in before he'd risen more than a couple of inches and forced Don back down through the simple expedient of kneeling on his back. Don had seen this before as well, being restrained in this way could result in what was known in law enforcement circles as 'positional asphyxia'. He had to get a grip and control himself. To struggle now would cause Tod and Martin to expend energy forcing him down. As it became increasingly difficult to breathe his body would fight harder creating a vicious circle of action and consequence. His ribcage would be crushed and in the end he would likely die from being unable to breathe.

He closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together, forcing himself not to move. It took all of his willpower. The weight on his back eased, Tod relaxing slightly as Don stopped fighting. He could breathe again and that was the main thing for now. There was the sensation of something brushing against the top of his head and he had to talk firmly to himself to hold still. The loop had been lengthened, it would not strangle him. He repeated it like a mantra. Despite that he found himself breathing in short gasps as the rope settled loosely around his neck. The restriction on his throat may have been imagined, but felt real enough.

Abruptly the weight eased off his back. He automatically rolled onto his side, realising only now that having his arms crushed between his body and the deck had hurt. He froze in a moment of panic then became aware that the rope about his neck had not tightened from his unthinking action.

Martin wasn't finished yet. A length of cord was produced from a side pocket on his overalls. Pulling out a pocket knife he cut off some knot work from the end. So that was where the cord had come from, Martin really was into fancy knots. Don's bound hands were grabbed and forced down towards his waist. The short length was then used to secure his hands to his belt taking away any chance he had at dealing with the loop around his neck.

"Any trouble Special Agent Eppes and Tod will pull on this bit of rope here." Martin explained dangling the end of the rope in front of Don's eyes. "You understand what will happen then?"

"Yes." Don managed. The adjusted knot meant that pulling on the end of rope would reduce the distance between his ankles and his neck placing him into the position he wanted to avoid. For now he was able to lie with his legs fully extended without pressure on his neck. "I gave you my word, you don't have to do this."

"Not so funny now is it?" Martin taunted. He stood and handed the gun to his brother. "Here. Don't leave him alone. I'll check on you when I can and bring you something later."

"I've got some food." Tod nodded at the backpack lying on the floor in the corner.

"Good work." His tone leaving no doubt that it was about time his brother did something right.

It was Martin now who left the small room, leaving Tod to secure the hatch. He then put a bright red sign pulled from a hook beside the hatch over the small view port. Something akin to 'out of order', 'no admittance' or 'gas leak' Don suspected.

"I guess I'm not the idiot anymore then, am I Fed?" Tod gloated. He shook his head in disgust. "Scared of a bit of rope."

Don didn't bother dignifying that with a response, although one came rapidly to his lips and needed firm control to bite back. In Tod's current frame of mind the younger man could easily go from guarding a hostage to torturing one. He'd given Tod that power over him, he wasn't going to provoke him into using it.

Against his nature Don forced his gaze downwards so he wouldn't appear to be challenging the other man but watched him closely for a while. Tod settled himself down on the opposite side of the narrow space, leaning back against the wall managing to avoid any taps or switches. The younger man dug into the backpack and came up with a bar of chocolate and started eating. The agent felt that any immediate threat had passed and turned his attention inwards. He had some thinking to do.

The real threat at the moment was not so much the man sitting across from him with a gun at his side but the fear reaction induced by the rope. Ironically those that had put him into this position had given him the best opportunity to resolve this burgeoning phobia. He was aware that familiarity through exposure to the stressor was the way that most psychiatrists cured their patients of such fears or to at the very least enable the patient to function in the face of the fear. He needed that, needed to be able to function as an agent despite the rope that burned against his neck.

His time with Bradford had given him skills that he was able to employ now during this enforced period of delay. Skills he used to first of all acknowledge his own control, that he'd been able to halt his near panicked physical reaction and identify the greater threat posed by positional asphyxiation. That whilst in that state he had still maintained the ability to process data and respond was a huge positive. The new phobia wasn't yet all consuming and could be controlled. By carrying through and placing the rope about his neck Martin had probably done the best thing for him. Leaving the loop off would have made the imagined threat greater than the current reality. The reality was that he could still breathe and was not going to die from the rope being about his neck. At least not right now, he couldn't help but qualify.

His pulse quickened again at the though but he recovered faster this time. The likelihood that Martin and Tod would use the loop of rope against him was strong, he'd shown more fear to that than the gun. Don was pragmatic enough to know that a few hours introspection was not going to cure him from the perfectly reasonable fear of strangulation. He just had to be able to function, to think, plan and act no matter what they did to him. That was the hard part.

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"Agent Reeves," the ship's commanding officer started patiently. "I understand you are concerned and I've started a ship wide search. But you have to understand that with most of the crew ashore on leave it is going to take some time. Plus you wouldn't believe the number of places someone could hide on a ship this size." The USS Paul Hamilton was 550 feet long and housed a crew of over 330.

Megan shook her head. She knew all that but she was worried about her boss. They had searched the parking lot and had asked passing sailors whether his SUV had been seen leaving. One had seen it leave but inquiries with the gate had only shown a record of the vehicle entering the base, not leaving. She was now in the Captain's office. The other FBI agents were waiting on the quarterdeck having been briefed that one of their own was missing.

"I realise that. But you don't know Agent Eppes. Something has happened to him, he has no reason to hide. His vehicle had been deliberately hidden which proves foul play." After Colby had checked the gate footage and failed to see Don's SUV leaving she had called the field office and had the techs ping the GPS locator. They had called with a result only a few minutes later. The beacon had led them directly to the vehicle parked deep in a large warehouse and hidden under a tarpaulin. The warehouse was a short distance from the parking lot and was used to maintain the navy's smaller boats. David was there now going over the suburban to see what he could find to help them. Megan had come straight back to the ship to report the discovery.

"It does seem odd. We are doing all that we can. As you know base security are also mounting a landside search."

"I've got nearly twenty agents just standing around on your deck. Let us help search."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. You of all people would understand that I have security issues."

Megan snorted. They were FBI agents and had also sworn an oath of service to the United States. She didn't find 'security issues' to be sufficiently important in the scheme of things when compared with finding Don. She opened her mouth but he beat her to it.

"No, Agent." Commander Sagan said firmly. "I mean no offence but I can't allow it. Your people can wait there or landside, whichever they prefer but that is the best I can do. We will find your boss, you just have to realise it will take time, assuming he is even still on this ship."

"He is. I know he is." The way his SUV had been moved and hidden told her that much. Someone had gone to the effort to make it seem that he had left. Don had even been forced to tell her so during that phone call some time ago now which explained why he'd called her 'boss' and had sounded so unlike himself. He'd been sending a message. It had taken her too long to figure it out, Don's 'I'm a bit tied up right now' should have been obvious.

"Please Agent, let my people do their jobs. I'll notify you as soon as we have something."

Megan recognised the dismissal, as did the other officer in the room assigned as a liaison. The woman opened the door and motioned the agent out. Reluctantly Megan went, knowing as Sagan turned away that the man was thinking of other scenarios. That was fine by her, it didn't really matter whether he thought Don was being held against his will or was sneaking about the ship up to no good. Either way it was incentive for the missing agent to be found and found as quickly as they could manage.

She briefed the agents waiting on the quarterdeck. They wanted to join the search but without jurisdiction and without permission they had no option but to stand around and wait. It was frustrating. They knew they could be ordered off the ship and even the base and had no rights to challenge such orders were they to be issued. Despite it being dark no one was inclined to leave until they found out what had happened.

Megan made her way down the gangplank to the dock and the waiting vehicle assigned to take her back to Don's SUV. At this time it was the only real clue as to what had happened to her boss and why.

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