A/N: Sorry for the delay - RL really intruded the last few days. Here's 17 -

Chapter 17

Charlie's cell phone buzzed on the passenger seat of the SUV, and he grabbed it, glancing at the number. It was Megan again, and he hesitated for just a moment before setting it down next to his pistol. He gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, peering through the rain into the dark, hurtling down Highway 210 toward Asuza. According to Don's GPS, he'd have plenty of time to get there, but he was driven by unbearable anxiety, which somehow seemed to be weighing on his right foot.

The SUV hit a transition for an overpass and bounced, and Charlie and the pistol on the passenger seat bounced with it. He suddenly felt foolish in the big vehicle, like a pint-sized Rambo packing heat. Who in the hell did he think he was, anyway? He was way out of his league, here. He felt a surge of despair – he didn't know what to do. Would Don's chances really be better if he came alone? He glanced at the cell phone again; and suddenly snatched it from the seat and dialed voicemail.

Megan's voice came on again, pleading with him to call her, the message this time a little more pointed. "Come on, Charlie, pick up. We have a trace on your phone, and we're on our way behind you right now. Don't do anything stupid – you'll never forgive yourself if Don gets hurt – you know that. Call me back."

Damn – they were tracking him. He glanced nervously in his rear view mirror, wondering how far back they were. They were forcing his hand. He hated to get rid of the cell phone; he might need it to contact Moran or Walsh again, but if he really intended to go in alone, that was what he needed to do, or they would trace him there. A sudden thought occurred to him, and it stirred a bit of hope in his gut. What if he went in alone, but the team knew where he was and could come in after him, if it turned out that he and Don needed help? It might be a plan he could control even if the agents behind him didn't agree – if he could keep ahead of them by a certain margin, they would have no choice. However, for that, he needed to know where they were.

He lifted the cell phone again, found the last received number, and hit dial. Megan answered immediately. "Charlie."

"Yeah, I'm here." He couldn't keep the sheepish tone out of his voice; he felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"They contacted you?"

"Yes. Moran and Walsh - they told me where to meet them. They said if I gave them information, they'd let Don go."

"Charlie, you know they're lying."

"I know that," he replied with exasperation, "but I didn't have much of a choice. They said they'd kill Don if I didn't give them what they want."

"Which is?"

"The location and name of the other consultant. They think he's still working on the program – they don't realize it's already done. I was going to give them a fake name and location."

Megan's voice turned cutting, decisive. "Okay, Charlie, you need to take yourself out of this. Give us the address of the meeting place."

"No."

There was a stunned silence, and then Megan spoke again, her voice rising. "Charlie, don't be crazy! You'll get yourself killed, along with Don. Give us the address, and we'll take care of it – we'll get Don out of there."

"I can't take that chance," said Charlie stubbornly. The rain was lessening, and he peered ahead. The exit for Highway 39 was approaching; he needed to take it north. "They told me to come alone, and they said they'd have people watching to make sure I did. You need to let me go in first and scope it out. If we don't come out right away, you can come in after us."

"Charlie, that's not acceptable."

"Well, that's how it's going to be."

Megan paused for a moment, and stared at her cell phone, taken aback. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought it was Don on the phone. Apparently, stubbornness was genetic, also. She'd had Decker drive; she was well aware he was watching her, and she flushed a little. It was a bit embarrassing to be talked down by a mild-mannered professor. Charlie's voice came through the earpiece, and she put the phone back to her ear. "What?"

"I said; I need to know where you are."

"Tell us where you're going first," she demanded.

"I'm not going to do that until I know where you are. If you can't do that, I'm going to toss the phone."

Megan gritted her teeth. If Charlie didn't get killed doing this, she swore, she was going to do it herself. "We just got on 210 East near Pasadena. I'm guessing we're only about fifteen minutes behind you."

Fifteen minutes – it would have to be far enough. Charlie manipulated the wheel one-handed, and the SUV veered for the exit ramp. "I'm getting off on 39 North. The address is about 10 miles up 39, and then right on Madre Hills Road. The GPS says it's called the Sierra Distribution Center – it sounds like a warehouse. I'm going in first – I'll turn my cell phone on first, and try to keep it on. I've got a gun," he added, almost as an afterthought.

'Oh, that's comforting,' thought Megan, rolling her eyes. "Charlie, you're probably better off without that. Don't give them any reason to shoot at you. Better yet, just wait for us." The phone went dead, and she groaned. "He's as obstinate as his brother."

Decker eyed her sympathetically. "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that."

"Just step on it," she muttered, as she dialed Colby. "I need to fill in Granger and Sinclair."

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Highway 39 North proved to be slower going. Charlie rapidly left the outskirts of Asuza and was soon bouncing and swerving along two-lane highway that twisted through the hills. There was very little out this way, and Charlie was grateful the rain had ended; it was dark and hard enough to see. The road seemed deserted; he kept shooting quick glances in his rearview mirror, but saw nothing. After fifteen minutes, he reached Madre Hills Road, which led to the warehouse and turned right, and although it was narrower and had no berm, he barely slackened speed. He was nearly there, and had just passed a metal storage shed illuminated by a security light, when he saw the car.

It was a dark sedan, pulled off on a gravel drive just past the shed, and as Charlie flashed past, he caught a glimpse of figure in the front seat. His heart jumped painfully, and he fumbled for his cell phone, flipping it open as fat drops of rain began to hit the windshield again, and hit dial.

"Megan, where are you?"

Megan tensed at the panic in Charlie's voice. "Right behind you, Charlie. We just turned off 39 onto Madre Hills Road. What's wrong?"

"You need to pull off, right away. There's a storage shed with a light partway down on the right side, and there's a man in dark sedan on a little drive just past it, watching the road. If you come in behind me, he'll see you."

"Roger that," he heard, and the line disconnected. She was actually listening to him, he realized with surprise. She had to be dialing Colby and David.

The rain was increasing now, the fat drops had turned into something resembling sheets, and he slowed. The GPS said he was almost at the warehouse, and he reached for the lights. If he turned them off, in this rain, they might not hear him come in. Of course, then he wouldn't be able to see, either. It then occurred to him it didn't matter – undoubtedly, the man in the sedan had told them he was arriving. He slowed to a creep, and as he caught sight of the drive to his left, pulled into it.

He wound through the dark buildings until he reached the end of the complex. He didn't need to see the sign to know it was the Sierra Distribution Center – it was the only building that was illuminated, although the light shining through the windows was dim. He pulled the SUV up and squinted through the windshield, trying to get a look at the building, but the rain was making that difficult. He could see it was a corrugated metal structure, like many of the others in the industrial park, and he made out a door next to the window, which was flanked by large garage doors for delivery trucks.

His heart was hammering now, and his mouth dry. He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around the Smith & Wesson to keep it from the rain, and opened the SUV door.

9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

The agents pulled off up the road, as Megan conversed with David on the cell phone. She could barely see their vehicle parked behind her; it was raining that hard. Ahead, she could make out a light, a faint glow, on the right side of the road – presumably the security light for the shed that Charlie had seen.

David's voice came through her phone. "Okay, we've got it. Colby and I are going to go ahead on foot, and try to take the guy out."

"Right," responded Megan, tersely. She tamped down the urge to tell them hurry – they knew that. Seconds later, two dark figures slipped by her vehicle on either side, and were swallowed just yards ahead by the darkness and pouring rain.

"I could have gone with them," said Decker, frowning, peering out through the windshield.

Megan shook her head. "If something happens to them, I'll need you with me at the warehouse." She punched in Wright's number, and spoke into the phone as he answered. "Sir, we're near the location, and it would be good to have some backup, but they have to come in quietly." She gave him the address. "Have them pull one mile down Madre Hills Road and wait for my command. Better send a couple of buses, too, from the nearest hospital – same restrictions." She disconnected quickly, before Wright could ask too many questions. She didn't want to explain how she'd failed to talk Charlie out of going in ahead of them, and she didn't have the time – she needed to focus on the situation at hand.

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Colby and David splashed through the downpour, running full out until they reached the shed. The FBI windbreakers and their flak jackets offered some protection from the rain, but their lower body was already drenched, shoes and pants soaked with cold rain. They left the road at the shed, and plunged into the wooded area around it, skirting the building and the light, and creeping through the woods on the other side. After a few yards of woods, they reached the gravel road, and could make out the dim outline of the dark sedan.

"Okay?" asked David, quietly. They'd worked together long enough that the single word represented a conversation – "Are you ready? We'll need to take him quickly to keep him from his phone. I'll go left and you go right," – was all rolled into one word.

"Yeah," replied Colby, and they moved forward, crouching, both of them suddenly glad of the sound-muffling, visibility-reducing rain.

They crept forward until they were positioned on either side of the vehicle, and both opened the doors at once, pistols pointing at the stunned Hispanic man inside.

"Hands on your head!" barked David, and he pulled the man out of the driver's seat into the rain, as the man complied.

Ramon blinked furiously, stupidly in the pouring rain, completely speechless, as they removed his phone and his gun. The two agents led him to a nearby tree, cuffed his hands behind his back around the trunk, and as they moved off, he was still standing with a dumbfounded look on his face, so shocked he barely noticed the rain.

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Dillon looked out the window expectantly. Sean and Walsh had taken positions behind the stacks of boxes flanking Don's prone form, and Ramon had called just moments before. Dr. Eppes would be here any moment, and according to Ramon, he appeared to be alone. The rain streamed against the window, but there was no mistaking the headlights or the vehicle; it pulled up right in front. Dillon watched as the slight figure climbed from the vehicle, and he stepped back from the window and retreated to the other side of the table. He nodded at Sean and Walsh as he moved, and they slipped out of sight behind the boxes. "He's here."

He reached the table and sat behind it, waiting. Four pairs of eyes turned toward the door, and for a moment, there was no sound but the pounding of the rain on the corrugated metal roof.

9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

End Chapter 17