Disclaimer: Don, Charlie and the other characters still do not belong to me.
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Part VI
"Your half brother! Now that explains a lot; why you didn't raise the alarm when he came to the office, why he can't bring himself to kill you and transfers his anger on to others."
Wright nodded slowly and looked at Don, ill at ease. "That's the reason he took you." He confirmed.
"Lucky me." Don whispered.
"My sister and I, we always let him get away with everything. I know it's not an excuse but he's our younger brother, you see." Don nodded. Yes, he could see. "He wasn't like that when he was younger but I must admit he always had a tendency to take advantage of people, to manipulate them. I realise that now. But back then, we thought it was cute, even funny the way he got our parents and relatives round his little finger." He shrugged sorrowfully. "He was taking advantage of us, even at that time. He is what he is today because of us, because we never gave him any boundaries, we let him do what he wanted. My sister and I always over-protected him and defended him even when we knew it wasn't right. Today, I feel still compelled to defend him." He looked at Don, hesitantly. "You must find me pathetic, hmm?"
Don looked at him intensely for a moment before replying. "No. I understand that. I used to look after Charlie when we were kids. I guess I keep doing it today, although we're both adults. Age has nothing do to with it. It's just... I care for him and the fact that he consults, I mean consulted for the FBI placed him under my responsibility, whether he liked it or not. Our relationship is still complicated and tense on occasion and Charlie can be a little... obstinate-"
The AD smiled sarcastically. "I heard his brother was quite stubborn too."
Don smiled back. "I prefer persistent. What I'm trying to say is that despite our differences, we care for and respect one another too much to deliberately hurt each other."
The AD snorted a laugh. "When I was 10, I was persuaded that younger brothers had been invented just to ruin their elder brother's lives. Well, mine certainly did..." He glanced at Don. "Yours did a pretty good job too. He put you in an impossible position with the FBI when he sent that email."
Don looked at him in shock. "No! No, you can't compare Harper with Charlie! My brother never meant any harm. He sent that email because he thought it was right. He... he hates injustice and it was his way to fight it. The difference with Harper is that he never did anything by malice, you know? I mean, he has his heart in the right place, he would never do anything that could hurt people, me included. He just didn't think of the consequences that his act would have on me or my work. He never killed anyone. He is not a criminal! Maybe a bit naive, I give you that, but definitely not a criminal!"
Wright stared at Don in the eyes and asked in an angry tone. "May I ask you a question, Eppes?"
Don nodded silently.
"What would you have done at my place? Would you denounce your brother to the authorities if you knew he was a traitor?"
Don remained silent, thinking. He had tried to help Charlie. Alright, the offence wasn't as serious as Harper's but he did try to help him. He shook his head. "I don't know, Sir. I honestly don't know. But again, Charlie isn't Harper. His motives were different."
The AD's expression on his face softened. "You're right. They're totally different. Your brother is a good man, which is far from what I can say about Jack." He snorted sadly. "You see, even today I keep defending him and God know he doesn't deserve it."
"I guess that's what big brothers are made for." Don offered as a consolation. "So what do you think his next move will be?"
"His mind is too twisted for us to out-think him, I'm afraid."
Don rested his head against the wall. Brilliant! They were trapped in the room at the mercy of a psychopath and all they could do was to hope that the cavalry arrived in time.
--
"We have fifteen possible places." Charlie announced, pointing at the map on the screen.
Colby jumped. "Fifteen? That many? Charlie, we don't have the resources, nor the time to search fifteen places! We must narrow that number down."
"Ok." The professor replied calmly. He pressed his hands together in front of his mouth as if to pray and thought. "You said he uses places that have just shut down. I went for two weeks. Is that correct?"
"No, make it one week at most. I guess he needs electricity for whatever he does with the cold stores. The current is usually cut several days after the buildings are shut down."
"Okay, let's say seven days then." Charlie modified his algorithm and dots disappeared from the map. "Seven left."
"That's better."
David rushed into the room. "We've got a track on the van. The cam you saw on the building showed them changing cars. The angle wasn't too good but we saw Harper and two men taking Wright."
"What about Don?" Charlie interrupted him anxiously.
"He was still unconscious. They carried him into the vehicle. Walker has just despatched its details to LAPD. We managed to follow them for a while with the ITS but they turned in an area not covered by CCTV. And that was no coincidence. They knew exactly where to go to lose us."
Liz got up and walked to the screen. "What was their last position?"
"There." David indicated a point on the map. "Heading North. But they could be anywhere now."
Colby shook his head. "No, not anywhere. They won't take the risk to cross LA again, not in a car wanted by all the police departments, with two hostages."
"Unless they changed cars again." Liz suggested.
"They would do that if they intended to drive for a long distance. But they won't; too risky. Harper wants to settle scores with Wright and leave the country as soon as possible. Staying would make no sense."
"Alright, let's see, if we ignore the South, we end up with..." Charlie squinted at the screen, waiting for the result. "Five places." He said looking up at the agents around him.
"Oh! I like these two!" Colby fingered with his index at two dots on the map. "That one is close to the coast and that one to a private airport. Both perfectly positioned to escape in case of trouble. If I were Harper, I'd go for either of them."
"Very well. You and Liz take the one on the docks, I take the airport. Miller, Parson, Richie go check the three remaining ones." David ordered. "Everybody stays in radio contact. If you get something, call for a SWAT team immediately. Let's go!"
--
Don was feeling increasingly light-headed and hot, beads of sweat covering his brow and upper lip. He tried to stay as still as possible; his eyes didn't seem to follow his head movements and he had to close them more and more often to avoid being too dizzy. Wright noticed the change in the agent's condition.
"Don, you should lie down." He said softly.
"I'm fine, Sir." He muttered without moving.
"Of course you are, but you should still lie down." The AD replied, gently forcing the agent down, making sure his head didn't bump against the floor. "I knew you had a concussion." He whispered to himself.
He shook lightly the other man's shoulder. "Stay awake, Don."
"'m awake." Advised the agent.
The door opened violently and Harper and his two gunmen entered.
"Hello, brother." He gestured towards Don. "Looks like your friend here isn't feeling too good. " He crouched next to Don. "Feeling hot, Agent Eppes? I've got just what you need."
He nodded at his men who lifted the agent, holding him by the arms. Wright took a step forward. "Leave him. He's wounded. Take me instead."
Harper tilted his head and said. "Oh! Isn't that nice? So much compassion for others. For anybody but me, hmm?" He handcuffed Wright.
"I never meant you any harm, Jack."
The Ghost raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No? What exactly do you think you did when you denounced me? Because of you, I spent years in prison."
Wright flinched. "For God sake, what do you want from me?"
The Ghost glared at him. "I suffered because of you. Your turn now."
Wright took a threatening step but Harper lifted his gun. "Don't even think of it. Move." He gestured to the door and Wright followed the two men holding Don. He could see the agent was struggling to stay on his feet.
"Where is the other guy?" Harper frowned at Don with a questioning look. "The killer you hired," Don explained. Talking was becoming difficult but he needed to know. "I don't think he's any of these gorillas." The men didn't appreciate his comments and one raised his hand to slap the agent but Harper stopped him with a glare.
"Oh! Him." The Ghost replied with a pleasant tone. "Well, he's doing a little job for me at the moment. He's a good student, very gifted and creative. But he's the least of your problems right now, Agent Eppes."
They stopped in front of a large and heavy insulated door. When one of the men pulled it open, cool air escaped from the inside of the room. Don raised his head seeing shelves and two rails crossing the room, hooks hanging on the rails. Although he was in no shape to fight, Don tried to resist the men anyway. They tightened their grip on the agent's arms, forcing him inside. They tied his wrists with a rope, then forced his arms up and passed the rope around a hook. Don's shoulders were stretched to their limits and the rope started to tear the skin around his wrists.
Wright stepped into the room but Harped pulled him back. "Not you. Say bye-bye to Eppes, Brother."
The Ghost closed the door and turned the thermostat down.
A draft of icy air started to spread in the room and suddenly, Don realised where he was; a refrigerated room! And he was hanging like a piece of meat... dead meat if he didn't react quickly.
The thought sent a rush of adrenalin in his system and he started a seesaw movement with his hands to try and wear the rope out, ignoring the burning sensation as the rope cut deeper into his flesh.
He knew he wouldn't last long in his condition. His strength was fading quickly and his breathing was becoming laborious. He was feeling both burning hot and freezing; he didn't know which sensation was stronger. It didn't matter anyway, he needed to free himself. He concentrated on the rope.
--
Colby slowed down the SUV as he entered the docks. The yard had closed the previous month to be relocated a few miles South but this part had remained in use until the week before. That was where food and medications used to be stored.
Colby stopped the car and observed the dockside warehouse with his binoculars. There were two stores, one main entry, two back exits and the loading deck.
Liz, sitting in the passenger seat, stated. "There doesn't seem to be any activity."
"No, but that doesn't mean the place's empty. Let's go check closer."
They got out and ran to the adjacent building then, very carefully, started to approach the storehouse. The roller shutter was down and they couldn't see any light on. Silently, they moved along the facade and headed for the shutter. As they passed a window, they heard a voice inside. They couldn't hear the words but it was definitely a man talking. They drew their weapons and Colby tried to open the main door finding it locked.
He signalled Liz to carry on to the loading dock. A small opening with a dirty window on the side allowed the young woman to peer inside. She turned to Colby and pointed her index and middle fingers to her eyes then thumbed at the opening.
Colby walked over to her and looked; the light was dim but he could still make out the outlines of a car. Colby nodded. It was Harper's. He checked the roller shutter; it was activated electronically and alarmed. There was no way to get inside without setting it off.
The two agents went back to their car. Colby called Control on the way asking for back-up and a SWAT team.
"I'm on my way too." David responded on the radio.
Ten minutes later, David joined his friends. "SWAT team's not here yet?" He asked.
Colby looked at his watch impatiently. The gesture reminded them of Don and the three agents got even more anxious.
--
Harper pushed Wright onto a chair and turned on a monitor placed on a table. The black and white image of Don struggling to stay up appeared.
"How long do you think he's gonna hold on? With a concussion, I'd say one hour max. What do you say? Shall we bet? Like we used to do when we were kids?"
"You're sick, Jack. You know that?"
Harper slapped him brutally, splitting his lower lip. "No, I'm not sick, Phil. I'm angry."
Wright looked at him with a mix of sadness and horror. "You're going to kill a man because you're angry. I call that sick."
Harper took his gun out and aimed it at Wright. "Shut up or I shoot you. I swear I will."
"No you won't. You can't."
Harper's hands started to shake and he lowered his weapon. To ease his frustration, he again brutally slapped his brother. "But your man's gonna die... slowly and painfully."
Wright was about to answer back when one of the gunmen opened the door and whispered something into Harper's ear. The Ghost nodded sharply then turned to his brother. "I need to take care of a little matter. I won't be long. Sit back, relax and enjoy the show." He said, gesturing toward the monitor.
--
Don blinked away the sweat but his sight remained blurred. Frosted clouds escaped from his mouth and nose at each breath. His throat and his chest were hurting as if an invisible icy hand was squashing him. He tried to regulate his breathing. He didn't want to pass out. He had to hold on. He could do it, stay conscious and unhook himself.
He stopped; wearing the rope out would take too long, he decided to try another technique. Standing on his toes, he started to push the hook inch by inch to roll it up around the rope. He was amazed at how heavy it was or maybe his strength was betraying him? His fingers were going numb due to the cold and the lack of blood and he could hardly feel the iced metal under his touch. The more he pushed, the heavier the hook was. It was half way up when he lost his grip on it. His fingers slipped and the hook fell back heavily in its original position, pulling sharply on the rope and Don's wrists and shoulders. The agent screamed out in pain and frustration.
He was out of breath, dizzy, feeling weaker and weaker but more determined than ever to get out of there. He was not going to die here!
He rested his head against his arms, trying to catch his breath, working his hands to bring back some blood in them and tried again. Inch by inch he pushed the hook, rolling it up around the cord. Almost there. He stood as high on his toes as he could. Almost there. His grip was more and more precarious but he concentrated on keeping his fingers around the hook. Almost there. He breathed to himself as an encouragement "Come on, you can do it."
In a final effort, he pressed as hard as he could on his feet and jumped while pushing the hook forward. It balanced and for a second the point seemed caught with the rope then... he was free. He collapsed on the floor, drained, breathless, in pain but happy and relieved... until he realised he couldn't move anymore. For once his body was stronger than his mind – it had had enough and refused to obey. He closed his eyes in exhaustion to reopen them right away. He couldn't fall asleep, not now, not here. He had to stay awake, but the cold seemed to intensify now he was still. He started to shiver violently. He had to move. He had to...
TBC