CHAPTER EIGHT
When Charlie returned 45 minutes later, he seemed much calmer. He had showered and changed, and looked steady on his feet.
"I'm fine," he said to Don and Alan, who had both gotten to their feet.
"Did you sleep?" Alan asked with a worried frown.
"Yes," Charlie said with a nod, his eyes focused on the numbers on the wall. He picked up the marker, and stood far enough away from the wall so that he could see the entire series of numbers without having to move.
Everyone had stopped what they were doing and just watched as Charlie stared at the numbers. David and Colby had been engaged in a riveting chess match, and Alan had been reading.
Anna had come back in with Charlie, and she was speaking quietly with Jimmy Dean, who had relaxed somewhat in the last half hour, and was nodding along to what she was saying.
Charlie had walked up to the wall now, and was writing at a rapid pace. Don didn't even try to follow the numbers, and instead focused on Anna and Jimmy Dean, who were talking very seriously and very quietly. They were turned slightly away from everyone as well, so Don couldn't try to guess what they were saying. It was disconcerting.
The door opened and Michigan, who hadn't been seen since Charlie had been back, walked in. He joined the conversation with Anna and Jimmy Dean, and seemed to have good news for them, judging by the excited whispers and a congratulatory clap on the back from Jimmy Dean. Don watched and considered joining the conversation. He had a right to know what was going on, after all.
"What are you thinking?" Alan asked as he sat down beside Don.
"I'm thinking I'm out of my element," Don said wearily. "I'm thinking I have no idea what's happening, and I don't know how to fix what's happening. I'm used to fixing stuff, you know. I like being able to take charge and fix things. And I don't like where this is going. I don't like it that my government and the organization that I belong to seem to want to set Charlie up and are going about it in this way…" Don shrugged and shook his head.
"Did he do it?" Alan asked very seriously.
Don looked over at him sharply. "Do what?"
"The fraud case. They seem very determined to find evidence against him. Do they have a cause to behave this way? Are they right?"
"Dad…" Don said uncomfortably.
"So he did do it," Alan said with a nod.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't say that he didn't." Alan looked at Charlie, who was still writing, though he seemed to have slowed down somewhat. He had circled a series of numbers and Kate was writing them down on a notepad. They looked like coordinates.
"You'll have to ask him, Dad," Don said, shaking his head. He really didn't want to be put in the middle of this.
"I will. When he's done."
"And what if he did do it?" Don asked carefully. He wanted to be prepared for whatever was going to happen. His mind was going over drastic consequences, but he hoped his father could be more forgiving than he himself had been.
"There would have been a reason," Alan said simply. "And I'm tired of the way we've been behaving the last few months. Something we're all guilty of, including Charlie. Whatever it takes, I want to fix it now. While we have the chance." He nodded toward Charlie, who had stopped writing and was in hurried conversation with Kate. He seemed uncertain about something, his eyes were still watching the numbers and he was shaking his head.
Don watched as Charlie picked up a different coloured marker and walked over to a specific series of numbers. He made a modification, which seemed to flow through the numbers that came after it, until he changed the coordinates that he had written down. Or at least Don thought they were coordinates.
"Are you sure?" Jimmy Dean asked, sounding slightly anxious.
"No," Charlie muttered.
Michigan had typed the coordinates into his computer and the map zoomed into the Pacific Ocean. The middle of the Pacific Ocean, it appeared. No where near land.
"I don't understand," Anna said, shaking her head and looking at the map, tilting her head slightly.
"Shipping lanes," Kate said suddenly. Michigan typed a few more commands into the computer and red lines began crossing the map, some directly with Charlie's coordinates.
"Patrolled by NATO ships," Jimmy Dean said thoughtfully. "And others, of course. International waters." He seemed to remember suddenly that they were not the only ones in the room. "Michigan, get on the phone, start calling." He turned to Don. "We need you guys to step out for a minute."
"Oh, come on," Colby protested. "This is just getting good!"
"Still," Jimmy Dean said apologetically.
"We're not leaving," Marjolie said stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at Jimmy Dean defiantly. "We've been here for days; we have a right to see some outcome."
"Fine," Jimmy Dean muttered irritably. "Just go way over there," he motioned to the conference table. "And don't say a word."
Everyone reluctantly complied. Colby eagerly maneuvered his chair to the very front of the table, and inched it as close as he could. Don wondered if maybe Colby wouldn't prefer working here, with these guys, as opposed to his team with the FBI. Colby liked action and he liked being a little bit sneaky.
Michigan had ceded his chair behind the computer to Anna, who had started typing. A large screen rolled down from the ceiling, partially covering Charlie's numbers. The screen divided into sections, each displaying live pictures of certain areas, some office interiors with empty desks. One an empty stretch of water. Don guessed that those were the coordinates. Everyone had donned headsets, and as Michigan continued calling people, the empty seats on the screen filled with people Don recognized from the news. Top members of the military, and not just those of the USA. Once each chair was filled – four in total, with several people standing behind each person – some sort of conference began. Anna had muted the people on the screen so that Don and the rest couldn't overhear. Don assumed everyone could hear them through their headsets. The conversation was quick and to the point. There was no argument. Everyone seemed to take the information for what it was, and didn't question whether it was correct.
Jimmy Dean did most of the talking on this end, and he spoke quietly enough that Don couldn't quite hear what was being said. He could pick out a few words: terrorists, explosives, shipping lanes, supply ships. And he could let his imagination fill in the rest of the blanks. Some of those ships out there carried thousands of people. Others carried valuable goods or devastating weapons. If any of those were targeted…
The conference ended twenty minutes after it began. The screen went blank and rolled back into the ceiling. Kate took a camera and took photographs of Charlie's work for documentation, then began to erase it.
"What happens now?" Colby asked eagerly. He had jumped out of his seat and was already across the room to ask Jimmy Dean.
"Now it's out of our hands," Jimmy Dean said with a casual shrug.
Colby seemed surprised. "You mean you're not going to go out there?"
"Nope. Our job was to retrieve the code. And really, that only happened by chance. We've passed on our knowledge, and what they choose to do with that knowledge is up to them."
"How will you know you've succeeded?" Marjolie asked.
"Watch the news," Charlie said wryly from his position on the couch. "If nothing happens, then we were right. If something does happen, I was wrong."
"We were wrong," Kate corrected with a disapproving shake of her head.
Charlie shrugged. "Same difference." He stood and left the room.
Don watched him go in surprise, then turned back to Kate, who shook her head and sighed.
"He has a hard time not knowing," she said. "And a hard time waiting. He feels responsible if it goes wrong."
"Can't really blame him," Lauren said, slowly walking over. "That's a lot of pressure."
"It's his job," Jimmy Dean said.
"I should check on him," Alan said with a worried glance toward the door.
"He'll be sleeping," Anna said, her eyes glued to her computer screen. "He always sleeps after."
"So I should do nothing," Alan said, sounding frustrated.
"Yes, you should give him space," Anna said.
Alan threw his hands up in frustration and sat down in a nearby chair.
"The good news is that you can all go home," Kate said cheerfully. "Michigan arranged it for you."
"What? What do you mean?" Don asked incredulously.
"I spoke to some people," Michigan said somewhat sheepishly. "And they spoke to some of your people, and they dropped the investigation into Charlie. So you should be ok now."
"Should be?" Don asked suspiciously.
"Well… No one is willing to take responsibility for shooting up your house," Michigan admitted. "Though they do admit to searching it thoroughly after the fact and taking a lot of 'evidence' with them for further processing. All of which will be returned, of course. Anyway, we'll watch the house for a little while, just to be sure."
"What about me?" Marjolie demanded.
"That was the FBI," Michigan said. "They checked into Charlie's finances. Your name came up. They won't bother you anymore."
"Oh," Marjolie said. "Alright, I guess I'll go pack up my things."
The others agreed and went to their rooms to gather their things.
Don stayed behind. "So you and I both know Charlie was responsible for the fraud case," he began.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jimmy Dean said smoothly, arms folded across his chest.
"Yes, you do," Don snapped in return. "I just want to make sure no one is going to take the fall for this. You're not going to pin this on someone else."
"It won't be pinned on anybody," Jimmy Dean replied.
"Good." Don stared at him a moment and then sighed. "I just want to know what it's all supposed to accomplish," he said with a shake of his head.
"What?" Jimmy Dean asked.
"This back and forth. A few months ago you handed them a couple of million dollars. This month you're stopping a terrorist attack, that you probably helped fund. I don't get it."
"You're right, you don't get it," Jimmy Dean said defensively.
"So explain it."
"I can't. It not black-and-white, it's not simple. And even if I did explain, it doesn't really make sense. It doesn't make sense to me, and I've been doing this for a really long time. This is just what we do."
"I don't like it."
"That's fine."
"So we're free to go?" Don asked, looking around at the four people in the room, all of whom were watching the computer screen Anna was sitting behind.
"Yes," Jimmy Dean said, nodding. "Look, I know you're frustrated. I know you're probably angry. It's just… It's just how it has to be done. And you're right, it's stupid. But it's also our jobs. And Charlie certainly doesn't need to be told that he funded a terrorist organization on purpose. He's well aware, and we're trying to fix it, but that takes time. I think you can understand, with your job, that sometimes you have to do something you really don't want to do, to someone who really doesn't deserve it."
Don nodded. He could understand that.
"So, I guess I'm saying… We're taking care of it. It's not like we just washed our hands of it and said, here's the money, have a nice day. We're working on a way to fix it."
"Ok," Don said with a nod. "Ok, I just want to make sure someone doesn't take the fall for it, I guess. And I also don't want Charlie to take the fall for it, so don't think that that's where I was going."
"I didn't."
"Good."
"Good."
"I'll go pack my things then. Charlie's coming home too?"
"We'll be home tonight," Anna said with a friendly smile from her computer. "Tomorrow at the latest. We just have a couple of things to finish here, and I want to let Charlie sleep."
"Ok." Don said, walking to the door and leaving the room. He was beginning to see that he wasn't ever going to get any sort of answers to the things Charlie was doing with these people, but he was getting a fairly clear picture. And for now, he would have to support his brother, no matter what.