Life would be much easier if I had the source code
10100
Don walked through a dark hallway. The metal of his gun seemed to burn his hands yet be cool to the touch. His heart beat so loudly in his own ears he thought he could hear it echoing in the empty space. The hallway seemed to go on forever with only one door looming at its end.
When the door was finally within Don's reach, he hesitated. For a reason he couldn't remember, he feared what was behind the door. Slowly, his hand reached out and turned the handle.
The room was even darker than the hallway, so it took Don's eyes several seconds to adjust to the lack of lighting. His eyes saw the form of a body facedown on the floor long before his mind had registered it. He walked towards it and bent down to feel for a pulse. There was none.
Don turned the body to face him and froze while staring at the still face of his baby brother. He felt bile rise in his throat as he looked into his brother's sad eyes as they were staring into nothingness.
Suddenly, the dead lips whispered, "It's your fault."
Don sat up with a start. He had fallen asleep in his office while reviewing an old file. He could still feel the bile from the dream deep in his throat.
He knew he had to find Charlie soon.
10101
October 30th
"Good morning, Charlie," John's cheerful greeting woke the mathematician from his sleep. He still felt exhausted, despite resting for quite a few hours. "Breakfast's ready."
"Morning," Charlie mumbled, half asleep.
"We'll be moving today, but first you've got to eat." John touched Charlie's lips with a straw, and Charlie drank fast. "I'm sorry I haven't given you more food and water. I know it hurts. I've been busy with finding us a place. Everything will be better once we move."
Charlie said nothing, opting to use the time to drink some more.
"I won't tie you up this time, but you'll still have to travel in the trunk." John informed him.
Charlie almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement. He knew he would have some problems moving for quite some time. Why tie up someone who can't move anyway?
John kept speaking as he fed Charlie his breakfast.
"The house is a bit far from here, so I padded the trunk for you. I know that right now everything will hurt, but we'll take care of that." John stopped speaking, leaving the questions for Charlie.
"Take care of it?" Charlie asked between bites.
John moved a needle into Charlie's small view of the world. "Some pain killers. It won't knock you out, but you will be kinda out of it for a while."
Charlie wasn't sure that would be a bad thing. He would welcome being 'out of it' at this point.
John brought another bite to Charlie's lips and this time Charlie felt the glove on John's hand. He wondered if John had always worn gloves and if there were a chance that Don would find fingerprints.
"I'm sorry about this, Charlie." John said ominously.
Charlie felt his left arm protest as John cut into his flesh with the hunting knife, blood dripping to the floor.
"I need some blood. I'm sorry I have to hurt you again. But it's not deep; it'll heal fast."
Once John stopped cutting, he gave Charlie a few more bites to eat and then left the room.
10110
Don needed to get out of the office. He joined Colby in his search through the list of industrial buildings in L.A. Doing some of the leg work made him feel like he was doing something instead of going stir crazy sitting in his office.
He and Colby had called the owners of the buildings on their lists and set it up so they would meet them there to let them in to search.
10111
"Time to go, Charlie." John walked towards Charlie lazily.
"Okay," Charlie rasped out. Fear seemed to make his voice disappear.
His right hand was suddenly released from its restraint and was turned over, revealing his inner arm. He felt the needle going into his flesh and the cool fluid pushed into him. Charlie was almost ashamed to admit how much he wanted to not feel anything at a time when he should be completely aware of his surroundings.
While they were waiting for the drug to take effect, John undid Charlie's restraints, starting with his legs and moving up his body. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief when the hard ring was removed from his neck.
By the time Charlie was completely free to move he was unable to do so. He didn't know if it was the effect of the last few days of mistreatment or if it was just the drug. Eventually he decided it didn't really matter.
John stood by his side, pausing for a second. Charlie, as always, tried to figure out what was going through his captor's head with little success. When he moved again, John slid his arms under Charlie's back and knees, lifting him off the chair.
His movements were slow and considerate, obviously trying not to cause Charlie any pain. Charlie knew that without the pain killer he would be suffering, but instead there was only a little discomfort. He knew the drug would eventually wear off and that he would have some difficulty functioning for a while, but at the moment, he didn't care. His analytical mind couldn't help but wonder why a person who tortured him would give him a pain killer.
John carried Charlie a few feet and then laid him on the floor.
"I'll be right back."
Charlie watched as John dismantled the chair and carried the pieces outside. Once he was done, he placed a piece of paper where the chair had been and then walked back to Charlie.
The young genius kept praying he would hear a familiar voice yelling 'FBI! Freeze!', but the words never came.
"Come here," John said as if he spoke to a loving child and put his arm under Charlie's back, pulling him into a sitting position. He carefully put Charlie's arms in his lap, avoiding his severely bruised wrists. He then settled Charlie's head on his shoulder, trying to spare his neck any strain.
He tenderly slipped his arm under Charlie's legs and lifted him up. When Charlie was secure in his arms, he started walking out the door.
Charlie closed his eyes as the brunt of the Californian sun hit them. He had forgotten it had been days since he had seen the light of day.
He was lowered gently into the trunk. John took his time positioning him comfortably on his side before closing the trunk on him.
"I'll see you soon, buddy," John's voice was muffled through the closed lid.
Charlie's world was dark once again and as the car drove away, whatever hope he had of seeing his family again slipped away. Right there, in the darkness and emptiness of John's trunk, Charlie began to cry.
11000
Don and Colby were on their third building that day and Don was becoming more and more edgy as time went on.
As soon as they entered the building they split up, each taking a different direction.
"Don," Colby called out to his boss.
"I'm coming."
Don hurried to where Colby's voice had come from. He found himself entering an empty room, finding nothing distinctively different about it. Only when he approached Colby who was standing in the middle of the room did he see what had caused the young agent to call him.
On the floor, right by Colby's feet, was a note.
Don knelt down to read it, careful not to touch anything, "Too late, Donnie. 3780."
"I already called forensics," Colby told his friend.
"It's written in blood," Don murmured to himself.
Colby felt his stomach lurch as he realized what Don had said, and what it could mean. He prayed to God he was wrong.
11001
David and Megan were interviewing the building's owner while Don was watching through the one way mirror. It didn't take long for the forensic results to come back. There were no finger prints and no DNA except the blood on the note. A positive match for Charlie's DNA could be done by checking it against his family's but it would take a while. For now they knew it was the same blood type and it was enough for Don.
John was taunting them and they knew it.
"Who rented the building from you?" David asked.
"John Eppes," said the man hesitatingly. "But I'm not sure he had the chance to move in yet."
"He moved in and out." Megan said, mostly to herself.
"Can you describe him to a sketch artist?" David continued.
"I've never seen him. We closed the deal on the phone. My lawyer might know, though." He tried to be helpful. Once his alibi had been checked out they had no reason not to believe him. There seemed to be nothing else they could do.
"We'll need his contact information."
"Of course."
Megan stepped out of the interrogation room and right into the back room where Don was waiting.
"How are you doing?" She asked softly. Megan could see the answer to her question since it was written all over his face. But he needed to say the words, needed to hear himself say them.
"I'm... scared," Don admitted for the first time. He wasn't the kind of man who let his guard down too often, but his brother's kidnapping left him at a loss. He had no idea how to face his father and tell him he lost his son. He couldn't even look at the mirror. The tired, worn down man that starred back at him longed for his baby brother and Don had no answers left to give.
"How's your father holding up?"
"He barely leaves the house. He keeps waiting for Charlie to call or come back." Don found that hard to admit.
"I think that whoever this John is, he's been planning this for a while and he planned it well."
"There has to be something we're missing," Don said, banging his fist against the table in frustration. "I'm not letting this happen to him."
"I think you need to accept that this will take longer than we want. You can't keep going without food and sleep the way you have been. You won't do Charlie any good." Megan put her hands on Don's shoulders, making him face her.
"I can't sleep, Megan. I keep dreaming." Don couldn't say anymore but it was enough for Megan to understand.
"I wish I could change that."
"I know," Don gave Megan a weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's weird. I spent years away from home working for the FBI and we barely talked. Now, he's gone for a few days and I miss him so much it hurts." Don could feel tears forming, and did everything he could to stop them.
"You only recently started seeing him as a man you could be friends with and not just your brilliant little brother." Megan smiled. "You miss your friend, not just your brother. That's why it hurts so much."
Don knew she was right. Seeing Charlie interact as an adult, and seeing what he could do with math in Don's own line of work made him see Charlie as more than his baby brother. He had to admit he was often impressed. "Maybe." He offered Megan a warm smile.
"We'll find him, I promise," Megan raised her hand to stop Don from saying anything. "He's not just your brother, he's one of us. And I'm speaking on everyone's behalf when I say that we'll do whatever we have to."
"Thank you, for saying that."
"You're very welcome. Now go get some sleep." Don smiled and shook his head. He would go to sleep soon, but not yet.
11010
Charlie tried to count heartbeats in order to figure out how long they were driving, but stopped when he realized it had been hours and the margin of error would be too big to draw accurate conclusions. The medication was starting to wear off and the ride was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He was thankful to find that he wasn't in a lot of pain, but the weakness and discomfort bothered him. The uneasiness only increased when the car pulled to a stop.
Charlie closed his eyes as the trunk lid lifted to reveal the harsh Californian sunlight.
"Sorry," John spoke for the first time in hours. "Your eyes must really hurt."
Charlie couldn't find the strength to give a decent comeback.
"Here." John opened a bottle of water and put it in Charlie's hands. "Can you drink this on your own?"
"Not lying down." His voice was hoarse and dry.
"Right." John pulled Charlie into a sitting position with his back against the side of the trunk. Once he was settled Charlie lifted the bottle to his lips and took his time drinking. His eyes got used to the light eventually, and he looked around for where they were. All he could tell was that he was out of the city on some deserted road.
When Charlie was done drinking, John settled him back in the trunk. "We're almost there, buddy," John said, closing the lid again.
Charlie wanted to throw up when he heard John use the nickname Don always used. It didn't really sound like a term of endearment when John said it.
He occupied his mind trying to settle his frail nerves and didn't even notice when the car started to move again.
11011