Mind Games

Chapter 4

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer

A/N: Thank you all so much for the alerts and reviews. They are very much appreciated. I am going out of town for a business trip this week, so my Tuesday post is going to be moved to Wedesday instead, probably Wednesday evening.

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Don arrived at the Stilton Medical Building twenty minutes early the next day. They had scheduled a follow-up meeting for noon with Rogan and Masters to give them their decision, but a sleepless night had driven Don to make one last attempt to try to talk them out of using Charlie. To do that, he needed to meet with them alone, so at nineteen minutes before twelve, he found himself ascending the stairs to the second-floor office, trying to fight off the uncomfortable feeling that came with the realization that he was going behind his brother's back.

The woman with the great legs and the nine-millimeter was staffing the desk in the waiting area, and after getting approval from Masters, she showed Don in. Masters, the politician, was up on his feet immediately, extending a hand. "Agent. You're here early."

Don shook his hand, and following Master's lead, sat. "Yeah, I wanted to run something past you before Charlie got here." At Rogan and Masters' inquisitive looks, he continued. "I'm willing to take the job, but I would prefer that you use someone other than Charlie for the math work. You can't tell me you have no other options."

Rogan and Masters exchanged a look; then Rogan spoke. "Actually, we really don't. There are a handful of people who have the proper clearance and can handle that level of mathematics, but they are all quite a bit older and more conservative than Charlie – they'd be a lot tougher to pass off."

Masters had narrowed his eyes, and was studying Don. "Is there something we need to know about your brother?"

"I just don't think he's cut out for this. I don't know if he can keep up a credible front – he's pretty easy to read."

Masters pursed his lips. "You don't think twice about selling him out, do you?"

Don flushed, and his dark eyes snapped. "I'm not selling him out. I'm making an unbiased observation, for his good, and yours. I've done this before, and when you're out there, no one's gonna cut you any slack – you'd better be damned sure you know what you're doing. I'm not certain he does, and even if he tried, I'm not sure he could pull it off."

"And we think he can," returned Masters easily. "We're going to make every attempt to control the situation, and try to make sure one of you agents is with him at all times." His expression hardened. "In fact, the person I'm having doubts about right now is you. You seem to be having a hard time with this. What is it, agent? Over-protectiveness? Or just plain sibling rivalry?"

Don tightened his lips, as if to physically hold in the retort that was forming on his tongue. When he spoke, however, his voice was level. "Neither. I'm simply trying to figure out what will give you the best chance of success, without jeopardizing either your mission or my brother. And I think that would be to send me, with another consultant."

"The only way that's going to happen is if Dr. Eppes refuses the job," replied Masters, smugly, as the phone buzzed. He had Don where he wanted him, and he knew it.

Rogan jabbed a button, and the woman in the waiting area answered. "Dr. Eppes is here," she intoned.

"Send him in," said Masters, and as he disconnected, he murmured, "right on cue."

Charlie entered, and his eyebrows rose slightly at the sight of Don, but he didn't seem unduly surprised that his brother was already there. He obviously hadn't even considered the possibility that Don would try a pre-emptive move to take him out of consideration, and the realization left Don feeling both vindicated and guilty for trying – it was yet another example of his brother's naivety, and Don himself had just tried to exploit that. He watched as Charlie shook the men's hands, and then sat, looking expectantly at Masters, who said, "Well, Professor, have you come to a decision?"

Charlie shot a sideways look at Don before he turned back to Masters and said, "I have. I'll take the job."

Masters looked at Don. "And you, agent?"

Don swallowed the sickening feeling that Charlie's words had prompted. He could see Charlie glancing at him, but Don looked directly at Masters when he answered. "I told you yesterday, if he signed up, I was in." He saw the relief in Charlie's eyes, and a self-satisfied look on Masters' face that made him want to punch the man. Instead, he sat there as Rogan pulled up some files.

"Good," said Rogan. "I know you're both on your lunch hours and need to get back, and we don't have a lot of time. We'll need to meet again before you leave, and you'll get a little more briefing down there. But while we're here, I'm going to give you a few more details on your covers." He flipped open a file. Charlie leaned forward expectantly, but Don remained immobile, his face inscrutable as he looked at the contents from his position, slouched against the back of the chair.

"We'll leave your first names the same," said Rogan. "It's easier that way, less chance of a slip-up. Your surname will be Archer. We need you to give us a city you've both spent some time in – some place that you're both somewhat familiar with."

Charlie and Don looked at each other. "He spent a good deal of time in Albuquerque, but I haven't," said Charlie. "Of course, we've both been to Washington, D.C. -,"

"We'd like to stay away from that one," said Masters. "There might be a subconscious association with government."

Don sat there; he realized that he really knew very little about Charlie's travels – he knew his brother had spent time in Princeton and London, and he knew that Charlie had traveled extensively for mathematics conferences, but hadn't really paid attention to where. He'd never discussed his fugitive recovery work with his family, so Charlie had no grasp of Don's travels either.

Rogan looked from Charlie to Don, and back again. "Anything? You guys are brothers, right?"

Charlie flushed, and looked at Don. "I was in Boston a few times, visiting MIT…"

"Yeah," said Don. "I've been to Boston a couple of times."

"No good," said Masters. "Bostonians have a very recognizable accent; they'll wonder why you don't."

"They could claim they were raised somewhere else, and have been working out of Boston the last couple of years," said Rogan.

"What about Chicago?" asked Don.

"Yeah, I've been to Chicago several times," replied Charlie, brightening.

Rogan nodded. "Chicago it is. We'll actually fly you there prior to going to New Orleans, and you can spend a day before you go down – kind of a crash course on the city. We'll have your driver's licenses and passports made up with Chicago addresses.

We'll pick Chicago schools for you, make up some credentials – it will be in the files. You'll need to study up on it prior to going down."

"Basically, the story is, since college you've both freelanced, tried to start your own business consulting firm together. Your success was mediocre; then Don, you started branching into some shadier deals. You pulled Charlie in on some of them. Over time, those deals got even more questionable, and you're now heavily into drug trafficking and gambling – not your own ventures – what you specialize in is making contacts, and then establishing connections among the players for a fee. You more or less represent the dealers and bookies; hook them up with sources and clients. While you're down there, you won't just be supporting Charlie – you'll be trying to get your own job with Montreaux working the cocaine angle, and attempting to help our agents find out how Montreaux is getting it into the country."

Rogan looked at Charlie. "Charlie, your freelancing has been more legitimate. You consult for reputable firms, but you've also done illegal work for your brother's clients under the table. The type of job Montreaux is looking for is right up your alley. You may also get a shot at figuring out the cocaine smuggling operations, but what we really want from you is what Montreaux is up to with his new export business, and whether or not it ties in to the Tehran offer. We're hoping you get the chance to get into his computer system, do some looking around. Part of your training will be spent with an expert computer hacker, learning some techniques."

He opened another file. "We have two agents inside – the one in deep, which we'll call Agent 1, will obviously know who you are, but you'll have no need to know Agent 1's identity – there will be less chance of screwing up. You'll be working closely with Agent 2 – he's the one who will suggest you to Montreaux, so you'll need to know who he is." Rogan pulled a picture out of the file, and a look of recognition crossed both brothers' faces.

"That's Ian!" Charlie sounded surprised.

Rogan and Masters exchanged a glance. "You've worked with Agent Edgerton before, I take it," said Masters.

"A couple of times," said Charlie. Don was silent, and Charlie glanced at him uncertainly. "Don has worked with him more than I have."

Rogan pursed his lips. "He's been working as Ian Crocker on this job, helping move the cocaine to dealers once it's gotten inside U.S. borders. Ian will suggest to Montreaux that he use you, Don, and your contacts, to help him expand his cocaine distribution, and he'll suggest you, Charlie, as a candidate for the export consultant. You can expect some time – days, maybe weeks - before Montreaux will make a move. He'll want to check you out first – he'll have people check your backgrounds, and if this works anything like it did with Ian, he'll invite you to some social events, first, see how you interact with his people. Those first couple of weeks will be critical – he'll be watching you like a hawk, testing you, and if he catches the slightest whiff of anything off, he won't make you an offer."

Don sat silently, listening while Rogan went on; watching as Charlie eagerly absorbed everything the fixer told him. The more details they got, the more excited Charlie seemed, and the more apprehensive Don became. As undercover operations went, this was very complex; something Charlie, with his lack of experience, didn't realize. Don knew that his brother had made up his own mind; he was an adult. That didn't erase the feeling that he was somehow responsible for Charlie; that he should have been able to convince his younger brother not to do this. He tried to focus on the conversation, but all he could think of was what would he tell his father, if the worst happened? A vision of Charlie in a body bag, and his father's look of grief and reproach, suddenly materialized in his mind, and his gut lurched.

He realized that Charlie and the two fixers were looking at him expectantly, and he jerked his mind back to the conversation. "I'm sorry, what?"

"They want us to fly to Chicago on Friday," said Charlie, his eyes gleaming. "Can you get away by then?"

"Yeah," said Don. "You guys will need to clear this with Wright, but I can get away."

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As it turned out, Don was glad to get away quickly – if they had to go, at least he wouldn't have to face Alan before he left. His father was coming back in from Juneau Friday night, but they had departed for Chicago earlier that day. Charlie had called Alan and told him they were taking the Quantico job, and although Alan had been disappointed not to see them before they went, he seemed happy with the idea that they would both be working together, developing courses. If he only knew the half of it, Don thought to himself, morosely. Not for the first time, he felt like a sneak. He'd had to lie to his team and to Robin; he and Charlie had told everyone they were going to spend several weeks in Quantico developing courses and running the pilot versions of the classes. Charlie had admitted to Don that he, too, found that part of it hard – lying to Alan, Amita, and Larry. The worst had been Millie; she had nearly refused to let Charlie go, with Amita and Larry scheduled to leave also, and it being the beginning of the spring term. It had actually taken a private call by FBI Director Dave Maxwell to convince her that Charlie's absence was necessary, and that they were under tight timing to develop the courses. Even the big guy was lying on their behalf.

Chicago at the end of January was a frigid version of hell; the wind whipping off the lake cut right through a person, and at one point, a particularly nasty gust had nearly knocked Charlie, who was shorter and slighter, off his feet. Prior to departing L.A., Charlie had spent a day with the computer expert learning hacking techniques; now they were both taking a crash course on the city of Chicago. They spent Saturday touring the town and their supposed residences – separate apartments, neither too far from the Sears tower. They memorized landmarks, and at night hopped the bars and restaurants, trying to commit as many to memory as they could. They had phone numbers of fictional bookies and drug dealers – all of them agents posing as Don's contacts, in case any of Montreaux's people wanted to check references.

In spite of the cold, it was actually almost fun, Don thought with surprise, as they stepped out of yet another bar into the bitter January night. Charlie winced as the wind hit him, but he grinned up at Don as his curls danced around his face, illuminated by a streetlight. There was no danger yet – they were merely establishing cover, playing at being spies, like children playing make-believe. The real stuff wouldn't hit until New Orleans.

The next day, they caught a flight out of O'Hare International, non-stop. As it touched down on the runway at Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans, Don looked at Charlie, gazing out of the small airplane window with excitement and tension written in every line of his body. The games were over – the real stuff had begun.

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End Chapter 4