Obsession

Disclaimer: See Prologue

A/N: You guys are really awesome! Thank you so much for your reviews.

Chapter 25:

Bashere grunted and covered his eyes to protect them from the brightness of the sun as he stumbled from the plane. He recovered quickly however, and spotted Charlie at the exact moment that the Professor had noticed him. Instinctively the Frenchman raised is gun and fired but the young man had already disappeared into the woods. Bashere closed the distance quickly and scanned the trail ahead.

"You can't hide from me Charlie." he called out in a loud voice. "I'm a skilled tracker and trust me, you don't want me to come in there and hunt you down."

Getting no response he turned back toward the crash site and perused the area. First things first, he needed supplies and he quickly spotted the broken beverage container. He slipped the gun into his pocket and bent down to pick up several unbroken bottles. He opened one and guzzled it down in one shot, tossing the empty bottle to the ground almost immediately. Bashere absently wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he eyes drifted around the cliff top. A small duffel bag that was lying nearby caught his eye and he picked it up, unceremoniously dumping the contents on the ground. He moved the meager belongings around with the toe of his shoe, reluctant to even touch them. There wasn't much there, only one change of clothing, but then Adam didn't have very much to bring along. Adam? What happened to him anyway? Not that he really cared, for that matter where were Krill, Picarry and Benton? He picked up the empty bag and gathered up more water bottles along with a few packs of peanuts. With a quick glance at the sun's position he hurried back to the plane and entered the cabin. He grabbed a flashlight and cigarette lighter from his brief case and hurried back outside. He hesitated when a glint of metal reflecting the sunlight caught his attention and he walked over to check it out. Bending down on one knee he studied the gun casings as well as two sets of tracks. It had to have been Krill and Picarry, but what were they shooting at? He straightened up and looked toward the edge of the cliff and spotted a thin trail of liquid that ended abruptly for no reason. He knelt down and touched it with his fingers, sniffing at the smell. Fuel...of course...the Fed's must have sent a chopper up right away, and his men had shot at it. That explained why the place wasn't swarming with FBI and rescue personnel. He smiled grimly and noticed the bills flying around, "so they shot at the helicopter and ran off with my money, didn't even bother to give me a hand". He fingered the gun in his pocket and studied Krill and Picarry's trail. It was on the opposite side of the crash site from the one that Charlie had taken.

Slipping the bag over his shoulder he turned away and headed back across the cliff top toward the other trail. He would catch up to them another time, the Professor was more important at the moment. He was almost there when he noticed the body. It was partially hidden under a piece of the wing. Bashere hastened over to take a quick look and he barely gave the broken and bloody body of Adam a glance before he turned around and headed back to the edge of the woods. That accounted for everyone but Benton and he assumed that the man must have gone down in the tail section.

Henri glanced at the sun, he had maybe an hour before it went down, and Charlie had a thirty minute head start on him. He wasn''t worried though, men on the run always left a trail and Charlie was hurt, he wouldn't be able to go very fast. Bashere hadn't lied to Charlie, he really was a good tracker. He had actually successfully tracked several men just for the sport of it.

Unhurriedly, he started down the trail watching it closely for signs and grinned broadly at the first footprint. Humming softly to himself he continued on, occasionally picking up small twigs and stuffing them in his bag for the fire that he was going to need when the sun went down.

3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Charlie ran and didn't look back. He heard Bashere's bullet hit a tree behind him but there hadn't been any sounds of pursuit since the man had called out to him. Not that it was going to make any difference because he had no intention of stopping until the sun set. In a near panic to put some distance between himself and Bashere, Charlie kept moving at a fast pace, only stopping when he needed to catch his breath and then for only a few minutes at a time.

At first the trail was flat so for the first twenty minutes he was able to cover a lot of ground but then the path began to grade upward and became more treacherous. Steep inclines and loose rocks, coupled with the waning light made each step more perilous. Charlie had no choice but to slow down and carefully pick his way along the trail. He kept moving , stopping every now and then to listen for any sounds of pursuit but he never heard any. This both puzzled and relieved him for he knew that Bashere would not give up. "So why..." he froze in mid-step. "If the man really was a good tracker then he wouldn't have to hurry, he could take his time and follow me." Charlie looked back down the trail and spotted his footprints. In his haste to get away he had left the man a clear trail to follow; somehow he had to disguise his passage. He broke off a small leafy twig from a tree close to the trail and kept moving ahead, only walking backwards every now and again to erase his footprints. This worked until he came to a really steep incline and then he had no other choice but to turn back around again. At the top of the trail he turned to wipe a few of his prints away but lost his balance when he stepped on a loose stone. His arms windmilled at his sides as he tried to prevent himself from falling but his efforts failed and he tumbled down the side of the mountain. Charlie grabbed at the brush to try and slow his momentum as he slid down the ridge and managed to hang onto a root about ten feet into the slide.

Charlie lay still, gasping from the throbbing in his side and the new bruises he had received from the fall. "Oh, God." he whispered, as a particularly sharp pain radiated across his side. He lay there, hanging on tightly to the root while the spasm subsided. He raised his head slowly telling himself that he had to keep moving, that he had to find shelter before the sun set. Charlie took a deep shuddering breath and pushed himself up to his knees and looked around the hillside. Slowly and painfully he climbed back on to the trail just as the sun appeared to be sitting on the tops of the trees. He knew that he wouldn't get much further tonight, not only because of his injuries but also because of the hazardous trails. Charlie had hiked parts of the La Jolla Park before and was aware that not only were there dangerous animals in the area but he also knew that many of the paths themselves were very treacherous. "Just like this one." he thought darkly. His one consolation was that Bashere would have to stop too. No matter how good a tracker he might be, even he wouldn't be able to track him in the dark.

Charlie kept walking until he spied a grove of majestic old oaks about sixty yards from the edge of the trail but he continued up the path until it curved around a bend. He doubled back, doing his best to step only on rocks and wiping any new tracks that he had made. He wasn't sure if it was going to work but he felt that he had to try it and at the very least maybe it would by him a little time. He veered off the path toward the oaks and cautiously wiped out his footprints. Moving quicker than he thought possible, Charlie soon found himself walking beneath the old oaks.. His eyes drifted over the massive trees, momentarily overwhelmed by their size. If he could just find a way to get up in one of them he might have a chance to survive this night. He hurried through the trees, searching for the one that would meet his needs. Finally, he spotted the perfect one and stood beneath it, checking out the branches. The shadows began to thicken and he looked to the sky, the sun had begun it's descent behind the trees; he had to hurry. Charlie felt around the tree trunk and found a small knot that he could put his foot in and reach the lowest branch. His first attempt to pull himself up ended in failure, leaving him weakly leaning against the tree trunk and he realized with dismay that his strength was failing. Charlie stubbornly set his jaw and pushed the toe of his shoe back into the knot of the tree. He pulled himself up and stretched out his arm for the lowest branch. Just as he thought he was going to have to let go his fingers curled around the branch and with a sudden surge of adrenaline he managed to climb up and stand on the oak branch. He gasped in relief and closing his eyes he pressed his forehead against the tree trunk. His lips curved upward in a slight smile, he could do this, it wasn't going to be easy, but he could do this. Taking a deep breath and willing himself to ignore the pain he began his ascent through the lofty branches of the oak until he was around fifty feet from the ground. It was more painful than he had imagined but desperation spurred him on and he couldn't afford to stop;;he had to get situated before he was in complete darkness. He was panting from the effort now and more than once he had to stop when his vision started to blur. Finally he found a branch large enough for him to sit on without falling off and with the heavy foliage hiding him from view he sat down with his back pressed solidly against the tree trunk. He felt a smaller branch on his right side so he shifted a little so that he could lean into it and hook his arm around it to prevent himself from falling out of the tree if he fell asleep.

Sweat was dripping down the sides of his face as he leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. He tried to focus on the sounds around him instead of the hammering of his heart and the constant throbbing in his side. At length the pain subsided to a dull ache and his heartbeat slowed down giving him a little relief. He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles, making himself a little more comfortable and glanced up at the horizon just as it deepened into a dark purple and gold.

Charlie sat in the semi-darkness, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the light. Twilight had always been a peaceful time for him but not this time. This time he was on edge and he strained to hear every little sound around him, listening for any signs of the madman that was chasing him. It had been at least an hour since he had any contact with Bashere but he kept his guard up anyway. The man was unpredictable when he was in control of a situation so Charlie couldn't imagine what he would be like now.

He shifted around on the limb again and felt something trickling down his side. Sighing, he lifted his shirt and felt a slight flow of blood dripping from his wound. Either the fall or his climb up the tree had re-opened a part of the cut. It wasn't much so he wiped at the excess with the tip of his shirt hoping that it would stop bleeding soon. He reached for the small branch again and instinctively tightened his grip as complete darkness enveloped him.

There would be a full moon again tonight, he told himself, and then it wouldn't be so dark, stars would come out to help brighten the night sky and then he wouldn't feel so alone. Was it just last night that he had set upon the hillside with Amita in his arms? The events of the day had clouded his mind and he exhaled a shaky breath of relief when the erie silence was replaced by the sounds of the creatures that inhabited the woods. Night birds began to call to one another, insects and frogs had come out to began their nightly rituals.

His breathing slowed down and he began to feel more at ease and for the first time since the whole nightmare had started he was actually beginning to think rationally. All he had to do was stay away from Bashere and wait for dawn. The morning sunlight would bring his brother and rescue from this terrible ordeal. He had no doubt that by dawn the crash site would be swarming with FBI agents and rescue personnel . Don and the team would be there and they would finally get Bashere. That madman would be out of his life forever.

Hope….he now had a sense of hope and he felt his heart flutter at the thought. All he had to do was survive the night and stay out of Bashere's way. Charlie closed his eyes and resisted the urge to calculate his odds of survival.

333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Jeff Cromwell leaned casually against the wall and noted with astonishment how quickly his small station had become a satellite office for the FBI. Not that he was complaining, he watched with interest as the agents gathered the information on the individuals that were on board the crashed plane. He was amazed at how quickly the intelligence was being gathered. Photos were already being made from the security tapes at the private airport and the agents were waiting to receive them via e-mail.. He had been allowed to stay because the agent in charge had decided that he and his people needed to know the type of men that they would be up against in the morning.

Eppes hadn't been kidding when he had asked about turning his station into a temporary headquarters for his team. His little station had only seen this much activity on one other occasion and that was when the Santa Ana Fires had threatened the park several years ago.

He shifted his position against the wall and as his eyes drifted around the room they came to rest on the dark-haired lead agent. He didn't understand how the man was holding it together. If it were his brother up on that mountain top, he would probably be a basket case by now but Eppes had not only held it together, he had successfully kept his team dealing with the investigation as well. They were a close team, that much was obvious…no.. not just a team but friends. It was as if they had all been through hell together and back again, and in the process an unbreakable bond had been forged. Complete trust in each other and unquestionable loyalty to their leader.

His musings were interrupted when the pretty agent hung up her phone. He found her extremely attractive and if he were a little younger he might be tempted to ask her out. Despite her sexy appearance, he had a feeling that she wouldn't have any problem dealing with the criminals that they were chasing.

Megan sat by the printer as the photos from the security video were printing out. Agent Stendhouser had successfully isolated the passengers on the downed Bonneville jet and had just e-mailed them to her. She absently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear just before the last one finished printing out.

"Got something guys." she announced as she walked over to a long table that had been brought in specifically for their use. It had been placed strategically, so that people around the table would have an optimal view of the wall map of the Santa Monica Mountain Range and the Point Mugu State Park. The agents filed over and took seats around the table while she spread a number of photographs out on the table top.

"According to the airport's manifest these five people boarded the jet." she said pushing three of the photographs to the side as she pointed to a fourth one that contained a picture of two men wearing aviation uniforms. "These two men are the pilot and co-pilot, they landed the jet at the airport, checked in and re-fueled for take-off. They passed all of the security screenings and all of their documents were in order. Fred Morris and Todd Humphrey supposedly worked for a wealthy businessman from Belgium." she moved on to the next photo. The picture was of an older man and a younger one supporting another young man between them. She pulled the cap from a blue marker and circled the young man in the middle but she pointed at the older man. "This is supposedly Anderson Fletcher and his two twin sons, Adam and Alexander." her finger hovered over the picture of the circled man and her voice softened. "Of course, we know this to be Charlie." she cleared her throat and continued. "Three more men boarded the plane at different intervals. This one is the man that fell from the cliff, still no I.D. on him yet, his passport said he was Samuel Gedwick, but I'll bet you a twenty that his fingerprints tell us something else. The last two are Jake Myers and Travis Oakley, so-called partners of Fletcher." Megan pulled off her glasses and faced Don. "Their documents were good, the forgeries are only showing up now because we are digging deeper; none of them existed a year ago." her eyes drifted to Charlie's picture. "Except one." she amended softly.

Silence hung in the air and then Colby twisted around in his seat. Ttilting his head up so he could make eye contact with his boss he asked. "Don, you said that Bashere told you that he had been around for weeks and that he had talked to you and discovered Charlie's weaknesses. Does Fletcher look like anyone that you've recently met?

Don rubbed at his temple. "No, he doesn't look familiar at all."

The junior agent picked up the picture and studied it closely. "Maybe Bashere was lying about being around you guys. We know he was stalking Charlie, he probably planted some listening devices and got his information that way."

"No, I don't think so." Don said, shaking his head slowly. "He was too proud of himself for deceiving us, he couldn't stop rubbing it in."

Megan nodded her head in agreement. "Don's right Colby. The man would have put a peacock to shame the way he was bragging about it. He even said that he deserved an "Oscar" for his performance." she paused and glanced at the picture in Colby's hand. "I believe that he was telling the truth."

"Then we're back at square one, because we still don't know what face Bashere is wearing." David snorted as he leaned back in his chair and dismally stared at the photos.

Cromwell had moved closer to the table to get a better view of the pictures. Puzzlement crossed his features as he stared at Bashere's photo. "What about this guy?" He turned to David. "What did you mean when you said you didn't know what face he was wearing?"

Don turned around and studied the ranger, answering before Sinclair had a chance to respond. "You should know what we'll be up against tomorrow." he pointed to one of the photos. "Henri Bashere had plastic surgery so we're guessing that this man is Bashere, but I've never met this man before, and Bashere told me that we had been together on more than one occasion." his forehead creased in thought as he stared at the photo. He raised his head suddenly and grabbed the picture, waving it around as he spoke. "Doesn't it seem odd to you that Bashere would go to all that trouble to hide his identify at the house only to walk straight into the cameras eye at the airport?"

Megan stared at him in surprise. "Your right Don, he wouldn't do that, he would hide his true identity until he had gotten away."

Don's phone rang and he quickly flipped it open. "Eppes, yeah, put a rush on it...right." he flipped it closed. "That was Jenson, they found the limo at the airport. They're taking it in now, maybe we'll get lucky and they'll find some prints."

Colby snorted. "If they do, it'll be the first bit of luck we've had today."

Megan's phone rang and the conversation ceased as she answered it. "Reeves...okay, wait a minute" tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder she quickly grabbed a pen and notebook and started to scribble furiously as she talked. "Got it, thanks." She snapped her phone closed and grabbed a red marker and the photo containing the picture of the professor. This time she circled the young man in the picture that was supporting Charlie.

"Don, we got a hit on this guy's fingerprints." she said glancing at her notes. "Adam Harken, a.k.a. Adam Fletcher, Charlie's twin. He's employed by a dating service based in Ventura when he's not sitting in a cell in LA. He's got a file and has been picked up by LAPD's vice squad on prostitution charges a number of times."

She raised her hand to forestall his next question. "Already done, Miller's on his way out to the madame's place as we speak. Let's see,..." she scanned her notes again.. " It's called "Lady Chatterley's Companions." her voice took on a sarcastic tone. as she continued.. "The ad reads, and I quote. "We cater to all tastes, let us find your "heart's delight." but she immediately regretted reading the last statement with Don's next words.

"Yeah…well we all know what Bashere's tastes are, don't we?" Don glowered darkly as he studied the picture. The young man was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt with the symbol of Pi on the front and as if that wasn't bad enough, he also had a head of brown curls. One look at the man's face and you knew it wasn't his brother, but from a distance it sure looked like Charlie.

Megan removed her glasses and met his eyes with regret. "I'm sorry Don, I didn't mean to sound insensitive to Charlie's situation."

"It's okay...I know...it's all part of the investigation anyway." he said a little gruffly and pulled his mind back from where it had drifted. "Maybe someone at Lady Chatterley's will be able to give us a description of the Frenchman. If Fletcher really is Bashere then he has somehow managed to disguise his face good enough to get through security." he sighed audibly. "The man has certainly gone to a lot of trouble to keep his real face hidden from us."

Don sat down on the edge of the table and ran his hands over his face tiredly. He glanced at his watch and he felt his gut twist, 8:45, almost sundown. In a few minutes night would fall and if his brother had survived the crash, could he make it through the night? Was he still alive?...injured?...still with Bashere or on his own? These questions kept rolling over and over in his mind and his heart ached in his chest from his fear for his brother's safety. Don swallowed hard and looked away in embarrassment when he noted the concern reflected in the eyes of his friends. He had stopped talking he realized and no one had wanted to break the silence. In the awkward moment he noticed the TV that was mounted on the wall in the corner of the office. It offered him a diversion and he nodded at it just as the words "Breaking News Story" flashed across the screen and a live video feed was shown coming from the overlook at the Projecting Point.

"How did they get there so fast?" Colby asked in disbelief.

"Turn it up Colby, let's see what they're saying." Don ordered.

"Yeah, sure thing." the younger agent said as he rose from the table and found the remote

The newscaster's voice boomed loudly around the small office. "This is Michael Whittemore reporting to you live from the southern California coastline of La Jolla beach. I'm standing below the Projecting Point at the La Jolla cliffs where earlier this evening a lear jet crashed on top of the Projecting Point. The crash happened around 7:00 p.m. this evening and officials have been unable to get any rescue personnel up to the site." The camera panned around the area and viewers could see multiple police cars and rescue vehicles as well as the coast guard in the water under the cliffs. The rescue personnel in the boats were training lights on the water in search of bodies. The camera returned to the newscaster.

"So far one body has been recovered from the water. This man fell from the plane shortly after the crash and it's unknown how many other survivors there are. We do know that the jet belonged to a businessman from Belgium and left from Red Hawk Private Air at Hermosa Beach. Our sources tell us that there were five male passengers on board plus the pilot and co-pilot. Their names have not been released pending the notification of the victim's families."

The picture shifted to the network news anchor. "Michael, have the authorities said why a rescue helicopter has not been sent to the crash site?"

The picture returned to the reporter on the scene. "We do have footage of a naval helicopter going to their aid, but as you can see, only moments later it leaves, apparently damaged. We have been assured by the Point Mugu Naval Base that the helicopter returned to the base without any apparent injuries to the crew."

David looked at Don in surprise. "What did they do, follow us from the airport?"

"Looks that way, huh?" Don responded disgustedly.

The newscaster continued. "According to the LAPD, the helicopter was fired upon by criminals on the plane. We know that the FBI and the LAPD were trying to prevent the aircraft from taking off and it would appear the some of the hostiles have survived. Nightfall and the threat of hostilities have prevented any further rescue attempts this evening. It is assumed that an early morning assault will take place."

"Let's hope the bad guys aren't listening in." Colby huffed sarcastically.

The voice of the network anchor could be heard asking.. "Michael, have the authorities told you why they were in pursuit of the plane?"

Shaking his head the news reporter responded. "No, only that it is an ongoing investigation and they are unable to talk about it." he hesitated momentarily as if considering whether he should say anything more and then continued. "I have received information from another source however, that this was an apparent kidnapping of a prominent Los Angeles figure. Earlier this evening an all points bulletin was issued to all law officials that an abduction had taken place at the home of Dr. Charles Eppes, the noted mathematician. I have not received an official reply from the FBI, but as you can see from this footage, his brother, Special Agent Don Eppes, was in the lead car pursuing the plane and was overcome by emotion when it crashed. It is my belief that Professor Eppes was indeed on board that plane."

"Oh my God!" Don's face paled. "Dad...if he sees this...?

"I can believe Whittemore aired that?" Megan hissed as she grabbed her phone. "Walker, get that reporter's video, make sure he doesn't show that footage again until we approve it?" she closed her phone and her voice softened as she met Don's eyes. "Walker's going to confiscate the video as soon as he's off the air."

The network apparently agreed with Megan because it quickly switched back to the news anchor, cutting off the video feed. "Michael, this is still unconfirmed information so let's focus on the crash until the FBI can confirm your story. Can you tel us what the FBI is doing now?"

Non-pulsed, the reporter continued with his broadcast. "We do know that the agents involved in the case have currently turned the ranger headquarters of Point Mugu National Park into a temporary headquarters and are waiting for morning to go up to the crash site. I have not been granted access to the park at this time to speak with the agents but I will keep you updated as more information comes in. Reporting live from La Jolla, this is Michael Whittemore for the Channel Six news."

The network returned to the studio where a female news anchor was seated behind a desk. "Thank you Michael. We will continue to monitor the situation at La Jolla and will update with any breaking news." She glanced down at the papers in her hand and quickly looked back at the camera. "The La Jolla cliffs are part of the 6000 acre Boney Mountain State Wilderness and grassland preserve and contains the most rugged coastline in the state. This coupled with the time of the accident is why they cannot attempt a rescue until daylight."

"Another source of concern is the wildlife in the area of the crash. If there are any survivors they may face yet another challenge tonightl. There are predators that are know to inhabit that area of the park; specifically mountain lions.. Our reporter Dana Sanchez has more information on this story."

The scene switched to a pretty blond woman standing beside an elderly man sporting a white goatee.

"Thank you Marla. Standing beside me is Dr. Atwood Desmond, an adjunct UCLA professor and wildlife expert with the Santa Monica National Recreation Area."

"Professor, what are the chances that one of the survivors could become a victim of a lion attack tonight?"

"That's a very difficult question to answer. "There are cats in the area. We've actually tagged three different males ranging in those mountains. The cats are very territorial and the one of concern here is called P-1. He's a 140-pound alpha male and has been mostly ranging in the hills of Zuma, Trancas, Decker Canyon and west to the Boney Mountain and Point Mugu area."

"Professor, what do the cats normally feed upon?"

"These are big mountains and full of deer and smaller game such as coyote, but they mostly feed on the deer. That said, however, any survivors that have suffered any amount of blood loss could possibly attract the puma. The cat has a very strong sense of smell and if he happens to be in that area tonight the smell of the blood could , in all probability, lead him to the site."

"Great." Don muttered dispiritedly as he walked toward a window, absently running his hand over his face. "That's just great!"

"Shut it off Colby." Megan said quietly.

The sound of the remote switching off seemed abnormally loud to the agents in that quiet moment. The atmosphere of the room had turned ominously silent and foreboding as all eyes followed Don across the room.

Don stood at the window and his shoulders slumped even further as he watched the mountain disappear into a shroud of darkness.