CHAPTER 4

The disclaimer continues.

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A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews! I have a few days off work at the moment so I'll be updating regularly. Enjoy...

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"Wait." Telford said abruptly.

Don opened his eyes but hardly dared breathe or hope. Telford's next words crushed the small spark of hope that had flared.

"I'll do it." Telford announced. "Torch the van and wait for me outside with the car."

The safety on Boot's gun clicked back on as the three men left the room. Telford had his gun pointed steadily at Don's head as he followed his men over to the door and closed it behind them. Telford watched through the grimy glass for a few moments before coming back to stand in front of Don.

Don shifted slightly, pushing his toes against the concrete, moving his weight backwards. He was preparing to lunge at Telford, a manoeuvre unlikely to work but against one man Don had a slight chance and he was going to take it.

Telford just stood watching as Don heard a soft 'whumf' and saw a bright yellow flare through the office windows as the van was ignited. The yellow glow dulled to orange as Don waited just a little longer, giving time for the other three men to leave the warehouse before he moved. His left knee started to lift off the floor.

"Don't even think about it, agent." Telford said moving slightly to the side and lowering his gun. "Things aren't quite what they seem."

Don froze. It was amazing how fast the mind can process data under stress. He had been about to move when he heard Telford's words and saw his arm drop. He had been prepared to move despite the gun being pointed at him, expecting it to be fired as he did so. What he hadn't been expecting was the weapon to be pointed away from him. The surprise stopped him. "What do you mean?"

"Where is your phone?" Telford said, ignoring Don's question.

Don told him, watching as Telford placed a surgical glove on his left hand. Don then held still, his thoughts confused, as Telford recovered the phone. Telford started pressing buttons, going through the phone book and looking at the stored numbers.

Telford finally pressed a different button and Don could tell from the tone that a call was being made. "I have Special Agent Eppes. You can verify that by this phone number. He is in a warehouse at 7th and Quay." He listened a moment then continued. "You'll know which one, it's on fire. I suggest you hurry."

Telford pointed his gun into the air and fired two rapid shots, a double tap. He then hung up the phone and allowed it to drop clattering to the floor.

Don was staring at him. "What is going on?"

"My men need to think that you are dead." Telford explained.

"Why?"

"So that they will not come after you." He answered. He stepped closer to Don. "Lay down."

Don hesitated, glancing at the gun that was being held at Telford's side, before he rolled himself onto his right side.

Telford crouched beside Don. He reached out with this spare hand and undid Don's tie, pulling it from around his neck. "Onto your stomach." Telford then instructed.

Don complied and felt his ankles being tied together with his tie as Telford continued speaking. "My employer has decided that you should be left alive. You are a very lucky man Eppes, you don't realise yet what this will cost us."

"Who is your employer?" Don asked.

"You don't need to know that, you should be happy that he knows you and thinks highly enough of you to do this." Telford stood and started for the door. "Remember, my men think that you are dead. For your safety, and that of your family, I suggest you keep it that way for a while."

"How long?"

"You'll know." Telford ducked out the door, started to close it but opened it briefly. "You might want this."

A slim leather folder arced through the air to land next to Don. His badge and ID. Don looked up to see the door close as Telford left.

Don rolled back onto his side then sat up, scooting backwards until he reached the wall. He saw his phone lying nearby and worked his way over until he could pick it up. He flipped it open and hit the speed dial before letting it lie on the floor. Don bent down so that he could hear the emergency operator when he answered. Don identified himself then was interrupted as the operator assured him help was on the way. Telford really had called the FBI. Don could only wait, keeping a wary eye on the door and the steadily rising flames from the van.

--100--1111--1110--

Don was sitting on the rear step of an ambulance a short distance from the warehouse. Firemen were working to extinguish the blaze and prevent it spreading from adjoining warehouses as the paramedic worked on Don's head. He poked at Don's ribs and looked at the bruising to his back.

"How is he?" Megan Reeves asked.

"Mild concussion, possible bruised kidneys and bruised ribs. The office you guys found him in protected him from too much smoke inhalation." The paramedic answered as he packed up the wrappers from the dressing he had placed on Don's head. "He needs to go to hospital to have x-rays and CT scans to be sure that there is no permanent damage."

"No." Don protested. "I'm fine. I need to give my statement. We have to find these guys."

The paramedic was shaking his head, the expression on his face clear that he did not think delaying hospital treatment was advisable. Megan looked from the paramedic to her boss. "How about I come with you? You tell me what happened on the way. Your dad will kill me if I don't get you to hospital."

At mention of his father Don realised just how unlikely it was that he had survived this. He couldn't explain it away on good luck or any number of other factors by which he had survived being shot at in the past. Even when bullets had struck him he was able to move, to adjust the outcome. This was different. His survival had depended totally on someone deciding not to exert a few pounds of pressure on a trigger.

He didn't know just how much he would tell his family about what had just happened. For them to know that his life had been held in the balance by men whose best option was to kill him would be too much. But at lease he was alive and able to tell his father that he had been attacked. Far better than having Megan deliver a death message. "Have you told him yet?"

"No, I thought you might like to do that." She replied.

At that point Don noticed that she was holding his cell phone sealed in an evidence bag. "Give me my phone." He asked reaching out for it.

Megan held it away. "We need to get prints off it."

"He wore a glove. There are no prints aside from mine."

"Alright." Megan opened the bag but still didn't hand the phone over. "But only if you get in the ambulance and go to hospital."

Don growled but followed the paramedic's directions and allowed himself to be placed onto a gurney. The paramedic had to hold off on fitting the monitoring devices however whilst Don called his father.

Don kept the call short, grimacing as he hung up.

"Upset, huh?" Megan asked.

"Yeah." Don answered rubbing his face with his left hand, his right had a heart rate monitor attached. "Get your notebook out."

Megan started writing furiously as Don described the events of the last two hours. By the time Don was seen by the doctor at the hospital a sketch artist had arrived to draw the faces of his attackers.

Don, remembering Telford's warning, had Megan convince the hospital to list him under an assumed name. This caused his father some consternation at the desk arguing with staff who insisted that they had never heard of any Don Eppes. Alan was demanding to speak to the medical supervisor by the time that Megan made it to the desk to collect him.

"How is he?" Alan demanded, still angry. "Why isn't he listed? What's going on?"

"Mr Eppes, calm down." Megan soothed as they rode upwards in the elevator. "Don is alright. They want to hold him in for observation overnight. They expect he can go home in the morning. I'll let him explain the rest."

Megan led Alan to Don's door and watched him go in. She nodded at the agent standing guard and flipped through the drawings of the offenders while she waited.