Obsession:
Disclaimer: See Prologue
A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews. I truly appreciate them. You guys are awesome! :)
Chapter 23:
Don drove like a man possessed, irrationally chasing an airborne jet. He knew he couldn't catch it but it was the only link that he had left to his brother and he was afraid that if he lost sight of it then he would lose Charlie forever, so against all reason he raced down the highway in pursuit of the aircraft.
The collision with the Learjet had damaged the red and blue emergency lights in his windshield so Don ordered Walker to take the lead. His siren was still working but the other driver's on the highway were not connecting the sound with his vehicle and were slowing him down. His madness was contagious it seemed, for Walker didn't even question his order to take the lead, he just raced around him and continued the chase. Don sped up again and followed closely behind the police cruiser leaving the FBI Tactical van and two more patrol cars to bring up the rear.
The beautiful California coastline whizzed by them at a dizzying speed but all eyes were turned toward the sky. One pair of brown eyes in particular that should have been fixed on the road in front of him couldn't help but drift skyward every few seconds.
"Can you see it?" Don shouted anxiously. Between the wailing of the sirens and the roar of the wind rushing through the broken window of the SUV the agents could barely hear one another. They finally had to resort to shouting to be heard.
Megan, David and Colby all had binoculars trained on the jet as it headed out over the Pacific.
"We can still see it Don." Megan yelled back.
"Megan contact Point Mugu Naval Base and have them scramble a jet to follow it." as an afterthought he added. "Make sure they know not to shoot it down."
"I don't think that's going to be necessary Don." Colby called out loudly from the back seat. "It's having trouble gaining altitude."
"He's right." David yelled. "Look, it's turning back toward the shore. The wheel is still down, the collision must have jammed it."
The caravan took the next exit on highway 1 heading north which happened to be a sharp turn and Don careened onto the exit on two wheels amid cries of alarm from his team members. A simultaneous sigh of relief echoed audibly through the vehicle a few seconds later when the airborne wheels finally hit the pavement again.
They were racing along the La Jolla coastline now and the low-lying alluvial cliffs were coming into view The cliffs began to rise as they sped along the highway toward La Jolla and it's highest cliff, The Projecting Point.
The big question now was how long the jet would be able to stay in the air and exactly where it was going to come down.
"He just dumped his…..fuel." David called out as he made a desperate grab for the map that was working it's way toward the broken window.
The jet's speed appeared to be decreasing as it headed inland and as they watched the plane's wings began to wobble back and forth erratically. It was all too apparent that the pilot was losing control of the aircraft and that it would be on the ground within minutes.
"He's heading for the cliffs!" Don yelled as his heart worked it's way up into his throat.
The white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel wasn't the only evidence of his distress as he made another hair-raising turn on the Pacific Highway.
"Get higher….you've got to get higher!" he was shouting at the top of his lungs, oblivious to the fact that the pilot couldn't hear him.
"Come on…come on….pull up!" Megan was yelling at the plane.
Don cursed under his breath and then voiced his frustration. "What the hell is wrong with that pilot….can't he see what's up ahead. It's not like you could miss those cliffs!"
Don raced along the coastal road trying to keep the jet in sight. Every time it dipped he held his breath, only to release it again moments later as the pilot managed to get the plane a little higher again. He knew where it was headed though, and he watched in dread as it maintained it's course for the La Jolla sea cliffs.
Suddenly it disappeared over the top of the Projecting Point and Don veered off the road and skidded to a stop at a an overlook point directly beneath the cliffs.
"Oh God, no!" Don gasped out as he scrambled out of the car. He slowly removed his sunglasses and stared upward in silence, horror and loss etched into his features. Covering his mouth with one hand he began to whisper his brother's name over and over in a horrified voice.
"Charlie…Charlie….no…no…oh…no."
An unearthly silence seemed to engulf them, only the sounds of the wind and the waves hitting the seawall could be heard. The agents stood still and silent, overwhelmed by the sight of the tail of the plane dangling over the edge of the cliffs.
Sound returned and more car doors could be heard as the rest of the entourage pulled off to join them.
The blood seem to drain from Don's face as he sank to his knees. "I killed him…I killed Charlie." he whispered brokenly. "I killed my brother."
Fighting back the moisture at the corners of her eyes, Megan knelt down by Don's side and reached for his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze but he didn't seem to notice that she was there. She swallowed thickly and squeezed his hand a little harder to try and get his attention.
" Don?" she said his name softly and felt a tear slide down her cheek, losing her battle to keep the tears at bay.
He turned his face toward her and she caught her breath at the turmoil that was reflected in his dark eyes. Don's face had gone chalk-white and the trickle of blood on his temple stood out in stark contrast. He opened his mouth several times to say something but finally he just turned away, lifting his eyes to the top of the cliff.
Megan wiped at her tears then leaned over and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Don, we don't know for sure if….I mean…he might have …you know…he might be okay." Her voice faded away weakly as she glanced up at the plane dangling over the cliff above her.
Colby knelt down to face the older agent and gripped his arm tightly. "Don, listen to me. In Afghanistan, I witnessed a lot of plane crashes and some of them were so bad that you just knew there couldn't be any survivors. " he paused as the other man slowly lowered his eyes and made eye contact with him. "But when we got to those planes, in some cases, people did walk away from them. We couldn't explain it, but it happened." he stood up and shrugged his shoulders. "Look, man, I'm just saying ….don't give up yet…there's a chance that Charlie might still be alive."
David squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Colby's right Don, we don't know anything yet."
Don took a deep shuddering breath and slowly got to his feet. He glanced at the plane above him before putting his glasses back on and getting himself under control. The agent could see sympathy on the faces of Walker and the other men who had followed him on the chase and he turned his face away, clenching his jaw and pulling on his years of training as an FBI agent, to push his emotions and fears aside. Colby was right, he told himself, Charlie might have survived the crash. He gently pushed the hope that his brother might have survived into a small corner of his heart and cradled it protectively, unwilling to give it up completely, and then he became the professional agent once again.
Megan was on the phone with the Point Mugu Naval Base trying to coordinate a rescue party. "Yes, that's right." She answered, holding the phone closely to her ear. "North on Pacific Coast highway, the plane crashed on the cliff top of Projecting Point. We are going to need medical and rescue personnel. Reeves out." she closed her phone .
"Point Mugu is sending out a chopper."
"How soon?" Don asked as his eyes drifted back to the top of the cliffs.
"Fifteen minutes, maybe sooner." she said dully.
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Alexis Krill and James Picarry were accustomed to getting out of tight spots and this one was proving to be no exception. Working as mercenary's did have it's advantages, especially when they ran into a situation like this. As soon as the plane broke apart they had jumped and rolled away from the wreckage but neither man had escaped unscathed.
Krill's right shoulder had gotten pretty banged up and Picarry thought he might have broken a few ribs when he landed on the ground. All things considered however, they weren't complaining; they had both been dam lucky to be still breathing.
They stood up cautiously and perused the area. The wreckage was spread over three hundred yards and so far they were the only one's moving around on the cliff top.
"Do you think anyone else made it?" Alexis asked as he slowly started to sort through the debris.
Picarry shrugged as he began to search around. "Who cares, we made it, that's all that counts." he picked his way around pieces of the wreckage. "Do you see the moneybag anywhere?"
"Not …" his partner started to answer. Krill froze and tilted his head slightly. "Listen, do you hear that? Someone's yelling for help."
"Yeah…I hear it too." he pointed toward the tail section, "It's coming from over there."
They hurried over to the edge of the cliff and carefully looked into the wreckage of the tail section of the jet. A gaping hole now replaced the floor that had once occupied the space. Silently, they exchanged looks and backed away from the wreckage.
Suddenly a voice gasped out pleadingly. "Help …me …please"
The two mercenaries crept back to the edge and peered into the hole from a different angle. From this vantage point they could see a pair of hands holding onto a piece of metal just below the opening in the floor.
"Benton, is that you man?" Krill called out sharing a grin with Picarry. "You've got yourself in a bit of a spot, eh?"
"Yes….yes…hurry please!" Tad Benton was Bashere's bodyguard and driver. He was a large man who weighed at least 250 lbs and he could be very intimidating when he needed to be. "Cut the…crap, Krill. Get ..me…out of here!"
"Sorry, mate, no can do, but don't worry we'll take care of your share of the money." Alexis called over his shoulder as they moved away from the edge.
"No!…come back!" Benton screamed. Suddenly the sound of ripping metal filled the air and they heard a blood curdling scream. "Noooooooooo! The yell faded away and silence once again encompassed the cliff top.
Picarry smiled at his partner. "Oops!"
"Yeah, come on, let's find that money." They were nearing the cockpit when they noticed hundred dollar bills floating around the clearing. Rushing toward the largest cluster of bills they found the duffel bag containing the millions that Bashere had taken from the armored car heist. The bag had a tear in it and some of the bills had become unbundled and were now flying around the cliff top, spurred on by the ocean breeze. Grinning, they gathered up the bag along with their automatic weapons that were near by.
"Now this is what I call lucky." Alexis commented as he slung his automatic rifle over his shoulder with care and picked up the duffle bag with his left hand. "Come on, let's see if Bashere survived the crash."
His partner stepped in front of him blocking his path and with a raised eyebrow and a stiffness in his demeanor he asked? "And if he did?"
"Then I suppose we'll just have to finish him off, won't we?" Krill responded. "The man gives me the creeps but he has a lot of contacts so if he survives and discovers that we've gone, he'll come after us. I want to be sure that he doesn't."
Picarry nodded his head in agreement. "Right, what about the Professor, if he's still alive I mean? We might need a hostage to get out of this."
Krill shook his head. "No, he would just slow us down and besides if the Fed's find him they won't be looking so hard to find us." he paused and looked around at the debris field. "They're both probably dead anyway."
They were just about to check the forward half of the plane when they heard a helicopter approaching.
"Shit!" Picarry muttered. "That was fast, we'll never be able to get down the mountain now."
His partner pulled his gun from around his shoulder and scanned the site. "Let's head for those trees. We'll shoot the chopper down and the Fed's will have to think twice before they send up another one. It just might buy us enough time to put some distance between us."
As one the mercenaries headed for the tree line and crouched down under the cover of the dense chaparral bushes and yucca plants and waited for the chopper to make it's appearance.
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"Hey! Look at that... someone is hanging from the plane!" an officer cried out, pointing upward. "I can see his feet!"
Everyone raced over to the edge of the overlook and raised their binoculars again. Sure enough a pair of sneakers were hanging just below the dangling tail section of the jet. A hundred feet of water separated the overlook from the base of the cliff and the water level was at it's highest. High tide had arrived and the water was breaking near the top of the surrounding sea walls. Even if they had a boat to take them to the cliff side, they all knew there wasn't any way that they could reach the man in time to save him.
As everyone watched the man dropped lower and now they could clearly see jeans and part of a shirt. Either the man was losing his grip or the object that he was holding onto was separating from the plane because a few minutes later he slipped even lower and was now completely visible. His striped shirt was open and a gun holster could be seen hanging on from his shoulder.
Don silently exhaled a breath of relief. It was one of the kidnappers but larger than the three that were at the house. This man was a lot taller and heavier than the others.
The law enforcement personnel on the overlook stared at the man in silence realizing that there was nothing that they could do to help him. He was going to fall unless there was someone up on the cliff top that could lend him a hand. The man's head was tilted upward and he appeared to be calling out to someone above him. Ultimately the piece of metal that he was holding onto gave way and he scrambled frantically for something else to grab a hold of; his fingers desperately clutched at the cliff wall before gravity finally claimed him.
"Oh, dear God!" Megan covered her mouth as the man began to fall.
They were too far away to hear his screams but could clearly see his mouth open as he fell. His body bounced from rock to rock as he flew down the cliff side. The man had stopped screaming long before his body landed on top of the seawall at the base of the cliffs. It lay on top of the wall for only a moment before the breaking waves pulled it over the side and into the water.
Through the binoculars Don could see the man's face. His head was all battered and bleeding and his eyes were open and staring. The agent knew he was already dead before the body sank below the surface.
Without taking his eyes from the water the lead agent issued the order for the coast guard to be contacted.
Walker took charge. "Samuels." he called out. A young officer hurried over to his side. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Get on the horn and inform the Coast Guard that we need assistance."
"Yes, sir, right away sir." he answered as he hurried to the patrol car.
Don's eyes had drifted back up to the cliff top. Someone else had survived, the man had been calling to someone. That meant more survivors , that meant Charlie might still be alive too. Hope glinted suddenly in his brown eyes and he turned quickly to Megan.
"How long did you say it would take the chopper to get here?"
"I'd say about five minutes." Walker said dryly as he pointed to a helicopter that was rapidly approaching the cliffs.
Don turned quickly to Megan. "Get them on the phone, I need to talk to them right away."
A half a second later she was handing him her cell phone.
"This is Special Agent Don Eppes of the FBI. Who am I talking too?"
"Captain James Harper, US Navy." Over."
"Captain Harper, we were in pursuit of the downed aircraft. The men on board are considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution. There are at least three hostiles, possibly more. Be advised, there is a kidnap victim on board and his safety is a priority."
"Roger that Agent Eppes. What do you want us to do?" Over."
"Captain Harper, this is still an FBI operation. If your craft is equipped with surveillance equipment I want photographs taken immediately."
"Roger that Agent. I'm turning the cameras on now."
" I'll need those sent to our headquarters in Los Angeles right away." he paused and turned to David. "Call Stendhouser and have her get those photos right away." he put the phone back to his ear. "Captain, I'm standing at the base of Projecting Point and I want you to tell me what you are seeing right now."
The Naval helicopter was almost to the edge of the cliff but it already had a clear view of the crash site.
"Agent Eppes, the plane was split in half on impact. There's no evidence of an explosion or fire." he cleared his voice and continued. "The tail section is hanging over the side; but you already know that. The cockpit and forward compartment are approximately three hundred yards from the edge, wedged between some trees"
Don kept his voice steady and professional as he asked his next question. "Do you see any survivors or bodies lying around the area?"
The helicopter had passed from view and was now hovering over the crash site itself.
"Negative, Agent Eppes on both counts. There's just too much debris lying around to be sure. I'm going down for a closer look. Harper out."
Abruptly the helicopter came into view again and rapidly moved out over the water. Smoke was trailing from the side and it was having trouble maintaining altitude.
"Shots fired! Shots fired! Agent Eppes , your hostiles have survived!" The radio was still open and they could hear the pilot reporting the incident and heading back to base.
"Sorry, Agent Eppes, we can't help you anymore. I've got to get this bird back to base while I still can. Harper out."
"Was anyone hurt Harper?" Don asked anxiously.
"Negative, but were losing fuel. Over."
"Captain Harper did you return fire?" Don asked with a controlled effort, his forehead creased with worry as he waited for a response.
"Negative Agent Eppes. Harper out." The pilot didn't waste anymore time but was already becoming a dot in the late afternoon sky.
"Good luck to you Captain Harper." Don returned solemnly.
"Now what?" David asked. "We can't land a rescue helicopter up there with someone taking shots at them and it will be dark before we can get our own assault choppers out here"
"Yeah and even they can't go up there in the dark, the headlights would make them sitting ducks." Colby added dryly.
"Well, we've got to get up there somehow." Don anxiously scrubbed his hand through his hair and paced around in a circle. He stopped suddenly and turned to Sinclair. "David, where did you put that map?"
"Just a sec." he hurried over to the SUV and grabbed the map from a pocket on the back of the driver's seat. Don , Walker and the rest of the team followed him to the car and as the sun continued on it's descent they spread the map out over the hood of the vehicle and reviewed their options.
"Look, the Projecting Point is at the northern boundary of the Point Mugu State Park." he said pointing to a large area on the map. "Here's the entrance to the Park, we should be able to get up to the cliff from this point. Come on, let's find that ranger station." he glanced over his shoulder at the declining sunlight. "We don't have much time, it's going to get dark soon." he grabbed the map and handed it to David before pulling his keys out.
"Gary, can you stay here until I can get another agent on site?" he asked as he reached for the car door.
"You don't even have to ask Eppes." Walker returned. "I'll let you know if we discover anything on the body."
With a simple nod of his head Don thanked the lieutenant and reached for the door. It took the agent two attempts to get his car door open, the collision had pushed the door out of alignment and it was catching on the frame. Megan was already on the phone and Colby and David were already reviewing the map when he was finally seated and buckling his seat belt.
Megan turned to him as he was pulling back out on the coastal highway. "Don, I have the park ranger on the line."
"Tell him that we need a fast way to get up to that cliff top before it gets dark and we don't have any time to waste."
Megan glanced solemnly at the position of the sun. At the rate it was descending it was going to be dark by the time they got to the ranger's station. She glanced sideways at her partner, noting the tightness around his eyes and the way that he was clenching his jaw tightly and decided not to worry him with that little detail.
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"he's set me free… he's set me free…he's set me free."
These words were echoing over and over in Charlie's mind and for some reason he couldn't seem to get them to stop. They continued to swirl around in his head amid odd sounds and sensations. At length the sounds chased the words away and the sensations turned into pain and discomfort as he slowly regained consciousness.
Was he dreaming…..it felt like a dream……well, if it was a dream he didn't like it very much. He was feeling a distinct pain in his side and he was having trouble breathing; something was very wrong.
He opened his eyes slowly and had to blink several times to clear them. The first thing that he saw was a ball of bright light. Charlie stared at it for a few seconds longer before comprehending that he was looking at the sun. It was low in the sky but still shining brightly.
'The question was: why was he seeing it at this angle?" Puzzled, he glanced around the area. He lifted his and discovered that he was lying on the floor of the plane and that the sun was coming in through an opening at the rear of the cabin, an opening that shouldn't have been there.
"I remember now…the plane crashed…but shouldn't I be dead?"
He blinked several more times and tried to sit up, only to discover that he couldn't move. There was a heavy weight pressing down on him and the only thing that he could raise was his head; something was holding him down. He lowered his eyes to his chest and stared in amazement at the top of a head resting on his shoulder. His brown eyes widened in panic and his skin began to crawl as he realized the identity of the person lying on top of him. Bashere was unconscious but alive, Charlie could feel the man's chest rising and falling against his own.
"Bashere!" Sudden uncontrollable fear came over him and Charlie shouted the man's name out loud. The fact that he had survived the plane crash was abruptly forgotten and the only thing that mattered was to get out from under the Frenchman. His heart pounded in his chest and he ignored the pain in his side as he struggled to get free. Charlie's left arm had been pulled across his chest and was caught beneath the man's body. He pushed at the limp body with his right hand and desperately tried to squirm out from under him. Bashere might have been unconscious but his body completely covered the mathematicians and effectively pinned Charlie's legs to the floor.
Grunting with the effort the young man kept pushing and shoving at the body until he was finally able to get his right leg free and in a position where he could use his knee as a lever and push against the man's body. Sweat was running down Charlie's face from his efforts and he had to stop to catch his breath as a particularly sharp pain lanced through his side. A second after the pain subsided he was once again pushing against the body but this time he felt the pressure on his left arm lessen and hope infused his efforts.
Finally with one mighty heave, he rolled the man over and sat up quickly, scooting away from the man's body until the arm that he was handcuffed to jerked him to a stop. Wide-eyed and breathing heavily he searched the man's face to see if he was awake. There was blood running down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead but at the moment he wasn't showing any signs of regaining consciousness.
""No, don't wake up yet…please…not yet!" he muttered to himself. Charlie had to get away, he couldn't stand touching the man. Swallowing hard, he fought with himself to think rationally. "The key, he said the key was in his pocket."
Tentatively, he stretched out his hand and pushed the man's shoulder. Nothing, no movement at all. With a look of revulsion on his face he took a shaky breath and moved closer to the man. Cautiously at first he started searching through the man's pockets but as his efforts failed to find the key his actions became more desperate.
"Come on, where is it? He said it was in his pocket, it's got to be here! How many dam pockets does he have? " he thought to himself. " Wait …the shirt pocket …. that has to be where it is."
Charlie watched the man's face closely as he gently lifted up the jacket and felt the breast pocket of Bashere's shirt. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt the shape beneath his fingers and slowly slid his hand into the man's pocket. He quickly snatched the key and scooted backwards as far as he could go before the handcuff halted his progress He was so desperate to get free that he fumbled with the key several times before the cuff finally opened and he was able to pull his hand loose. Charlie barely contained a sob of relief as he slipped from the restraints that had bound him to the deranged man.
The young man kept his eyes on the Frenchman as he slid backwards, only stopping when his back hit the side of the plane. He sat there, catching his breath until a sudden irrational fear enveloped him. "Bashere had been lying on top of him!…. what if?-- the thought didn't get any further as he frantically checked his clothing. Anxiously he checked to see if he was still fully dressed and that everything was securely fastened. A part of him new that he was behaving irrationally, that he should be more concerned with the fact that he he had been in a plane crash, but the threat of Bashere touching him had been real and no matter how hard he tried to put it aside, he couldn't, he had to be sure. Finally convinced that Bashere hadn't taken advantage of him, his breathing began to return to normal and as rational thought returned he began to feel a little foolish, that given the circumstances, he seemed more relieved that Bashere hadn't had a chance to touch him than the fact that he had just survived a plane crash.
He shifted his position and felt the pain in his side again. In his momentary panic he had completely missed the tear in his tee shirt. It stretched across his right side and was covered with a red stain. He winced as he lifted up the shirt and wiped at the blood on his skin. He had a four inch gash in his side but it wasn't very deep and had already started to clot. Charlie's eyes drifted back to the spot where he had been lying on the floor and couldn't suppress a shiver when he saw a jagged piece of metal sticking straight up through the floor. If he had landed a half an inch to the right it would have impaled him.
He swallowed nervously and for the first time he took a really good look around the wrecked cabin.