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6 – CHAPTER SIX – 1.348^6

"Go ahead! Down here!"

Slowly, Charlie descended the ladder down into the cellar of the little house. It wasn't too easy with bound hands, and the way the ropes had been cutting into his flesh for the past three hours – or four, maybe even five? - wasn't helping. If he thought about it properly, it rather seemed a week – while you had been sitting in a small van being beamed on by a strong torch, still recognizing the thing that was directed at you as a weapon. At last, they had freed them of their gags. And at least, they now knew that there were least three opponents; invaders number one and two and a driver. At some point of time however, the vehicle had stood still for some time and they were quite sure that there, the driver had changed. Unfortunately, they had had to acknowledge that these guys were professionals enough not to offer them either an opportunity to escape or call for help. Why they had been kidnapped stayed a riddle, though.

"Come on now, faster!"

One of the kidnappers kicked at Charlie's shoulder, and Charlie nearly lost his balance. However, shortly afterwards he was standing on solid ground and only few seconds later Don was standing beside him. For some short seconds they saw their surroundings in the bright light that was drifting through the skylight. It looked like a dungeon: the walls were in stone and seemed to be very thick. They were unplastered. On the floor there was straw. Up high in a wall, directly beneath the ceiling, there was a little window, and on the other end of the wall up high as well, a ventilation shaft. There didn't seem to be much more, but they couldn't determine it either way because the ladder had already been pulled up and with a horrible squeal and creak, the kidnappers locked the skylight and left them in darkness and silence.

"So, what now?"

Don's voice echoed a bit. It was the first time that one of them had spoken since they had left the house. "Any proposals, you little math genius?"

"What is this? Do you really have to snarl at me like this again?"

"Looks like a torture chamber in a European castle," Don retorted, seemingly without context and in an icy tone. The kidnapping hadn't improved his mood any and the anger was a useful protection. "Fits," he continued. "For I hope you know that you're the last man on Earth I want to be locked up with."

"Yeah, likewise!"

"Yeah, I can imagine," Don scoffed. "You sure as hell would want to leave right away."

"If you really want to know, yes!" Charlie retorted hotly. "For I've got better things to do than to run to seed down here in this hole!"

"Then think up how you want us to escape from here. I'm curious."

"Know what?" Charlie argued. The fury made his eyes glimmer with fire. "That's typical! You've got no clue how it's gonna go on, and I'm supposed to put everything right for you! Just the same thing like in this mafia case! You know how –"

"I knew it!" his brother interrupted him. "So you admit that you took the file!"

A part of Charlie's fury gave way to confusion. The fire in his eyes had collapsed a bit, but it was still present. "Of course."

"Of course?" Don rose up. "Tell me, just what did you think you were doing? You've got no security clearance anymore! You aren't allowed to look at these files, let alone take them!"

Charlie believed he had understood wrong. "W-w-wait a sec – are you serious? First you put this file in my garage so I can help you once more dig you out of a hole, and then you bark at me because of it?"

"What? What – what rubbish are you talking about? I didn't put the file in your garage!"

Charlie didn't believe a single word. "No?" he scoffed. "So who was it, if I may ask?"

Hostilely, they glared at each other despite the fact that they could barely make out the other's face in the wan moonlight. And then it dawned on them.

"I don't believe it," Charlie mumbled.

"Still. Can't be otherwise," Don responded, flattened as well. The realization was rising up in them in big waves. It had been their father… because he didn't want his sons to argue… And now…

Don rose to speak again first. "Uh, Charlie, I…" He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry that I –"

"No, no, no. Never mind," Charlie interrupted; his forehead slightly puckered, still occupied with trying to assimilate the truth. "You thought I'd sort-of stolen the file, after all. It's clear then why you're behaving like this. Anyway, I'm not allowed to even look at them."

"No, I mean earlier."

"Oh. Yeah. Mhm," Involuntarily, Charlie's tone became cooler. "What do you mean specifically? The 'mean little asshole', or that I act up, or that you emptied my tires of air, or –"

"Please, stop."

"Why should I?"

"It wasn't at all meant that way! And I'd be too happy if I could make it unhappen. But it's simply this daft case! And I was simply so angry because –"

"Yeah, I know," Finally, Charlie's voice didn't sound cool anymore. "I shouldn't have made this stupid talk, not after I've known that you were the team this was about. It was… I don't even know why I've gone through with it in spite of everything."

They were silent for some seconds. They each felt so lost, as if they were swimming all alone, each one apart from the other, in a huge ocean.

"Friends again?" Don finally asked, cautiously.

"Of course," Charlie answered, relief audible in his words.

As if to demonstrate the release of the tension that had been between them, they sat on the floor. Don decided – and he thought he could feel Charlie's approval – to push the still pulsating question in his mind of why all of this was happening aside and to try to solve the more essential problems now. "I think we're supposed to 'kiss and make up' here," he therefore said, "but with being 'tied up' that could be a bit difficult."

"So let's get rid of them."

Don wanted to answer in an annoyed way, though changed his decision and left it with rolling his eyes.

"What?" Charlie asked because all he got from his brother was an impulsive exhalation as an answer.

"Well, not as easy as it sounds. After all, our hands are bent in our backs. And I've noticed that the knot tying you up is remarkably strong and tight and with the time you've taken to tie me up, I can only assume that this knot isn't easy either."

"Oh, come on! These guys have used rope! It'll be a child's play to get rid of it. And anyway, don't you think I'm capable of controlling without them noticing how to tie you up so that the knot would be easy for me to loosen?"

Don stalled. "W-Wait, does that mean you –? How did you do that?"

"Quite simply, with math. Ever heard of Kurt Reidemeister?"

"Er – no, Charlie, I haven't."

Despite Don's scepticism, Charlie held on his ideas. "Well, you should have. Reidemeister moves are an important basis of knot theory."

Don thought he'd misunderstood. "Knot theory? You wanna pull my leg?"

"Maybe later, when we're rid of these bonds… No, wait, not then either. But for your information, knot theory is an area of topology. And with its help I've created a knot that is simple to analyse and so simple to loosen. And you've got no faith in mathematics!"

Don considered it better not to answer directly. "Yeah, but… I couldn't get rid of them until now."

"Of course not. You still need a little help."

"Does that mean you're able to untie me now?"

"Of course. Wait… turn around a bit. Yeah, exactly. I only have to loosen this knot here – so… - and then… wait… voilà!"

Don couldn't believe it. His little brother hadn't even taken a minute to loosen his bonds – and with his hands bound behind his back as well. It would probably take longer the other way round. "I've got to admit, this math staff can be rather useful every now and then," Don admitted, half jokingly, half earnestly, while he was rubbing his wounded wrists. "And now wait… damn, do you happen to have a torch?"

"Do I look as if I have?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'd be glad if I could see you."

"We'll have to wait till tomorrow, then."

That was one thing Don didn't want, though. He knew that it wasn't quite comfortable to sit with your hands bound behind your back. His own wrists and arm muscles were already burning after the few past hours. "No, wait. I'll try without light, then."

Regrettably, it didn't take less than a minute, but more likely an hour before they finally had success.

"Rope," Don repeated when they had barely loosened the bonds trying to transform his face with some effort from a grimace to a contemptuous smile. "How primitive!"

"Well," Charlie reminded him rubbing his numb hands, "they don't need more, do they? I mean, the walls look quite stable, the window up there is barred and too small, and the skylight is three and a half meters above ground as well. I really wouldn't call our position perfect. In fact, they wouldn't even have needed the bonds."

"But they had still tied us!" Don said insistently. "That means there has to be an opportunity to get out of here!"

Charlie first offered a doubtful glance to his brother's silhouette, then to their dark prison. "You aren't serious, Don. They have to have known that sooner or later we'd be able to get our hands free."

"Still, there has to be an chance!"

"So tell me which! Give in, Don."

"Hey, since when is it that you're so pessimistic? There's always a solution! Did you give in with this P-versus-P-stuff at once?"

"NP. Yes. It's unsolvable. As well as our problem here."

Don would have really liked to kick his own ass. "Okay," he admitted. "That was a bad example. You didn't give in at once, though, not until you'd driven us all halfway mad with it! You never give in!"

Charlie wondered. Yeah, in some way, his brother was right. Their position might be looking bad – but what if there was still a solution? They had to find it.

"Okay, so what do you propose?"

"Well… dunno."

Charlie nearly wanted to give up again when Don eventually came up with an idea. "Hey, we could try to reach the skylight. Come on, you stand on my shoulders and try to pry it open."

"You don't really believe –"

"Let's at least try, okay?"

Why not, Charlie thought. They had to do something, anything, in order not to crack up completely. "Okay," he said. "Who's beneath, you or I?"

"Me. You're lighter." Don suddenly grinned a bit. "And besides, I'm stronger."

Charlie picked up on his words. "So kneel before me, my big strong brother."

"As his majesty desires," Don finished the jokey banter and went down on his knees.

A bit indecisively, Charlie looked at Don's shoulders. It was evident that it was of no use if he gave him a boost with his hands. Thus, he had to go on the shoulders. However, once up there was nothing for him to hold onto. "Wait," Charlie said, thinking. "Kneel directly before the wall. Then I've got a hold there when you stand up. You only have to go under the skylight, and then I'll be able to get a little hold at the ceiling."

"If you think so," Don retorted and took the order.

Yes, it should be better this way, Charlie thought and got on his brothers shoulders.

"You alright?" he questioned.

"Yeah, it's okay," Don reassured him, though his voice sounded a bit compressed. "But you used to be lighter than this."

"Or you stronger," Charlie joked. "But you're right, that's indeed strange. I mean, with all other materials, inertia decreases with time passing, but not so with living creatures. However, if you –"

"Charlie, please no lecture now."

With quite an effort, Don got up on his feet. He was swaying a bit. And on his shoulders Charlie was swaying too. There, now he was touching the ceiling. And already, Don was staggering towards the skylight. But then –

"Whoaaa – ouch!"

"Charlie? You okay?" The weight on Don's shoulders wasn't there anymore. However, in the darkness he couldn't see where it had disappeared to. The only clue was his brother's moaning.

"I'm fine. Quite," Charlie groaned. "Fortunately, there's straw everywhere."

"You sure you're alright?"

"'Course," Charlie replied. Actually, he could barely stand upright and he didn't even want to imagine the extent of the bruise at his hip, but he wasn't seriously hurt, and he didn't want to whine in front of Don.

"Well… so what are we doing now?"

Don was a bit concerned that Charlie was going to give up. He needn't have worried, as Charlie's matter-of-fact answer showed: "We try once again, what else?"

Inside, Don sighed with relief. He had feared his brother would be intimidated by the failure and would give in. "Then mount again, cowboy."

However, neither of the following tries were crowned with success. "Oh man, don't you have a sense of balance?" Don asked Charlie, pulling him on his feet for the third time.

"Generally yes, though it is unfortunately a bit limited in blackest darkness!" his brother retorted huffishly. "And if you could go a bit more slowly, my sense of balance could get used to being suddenly three meters above ground level!"

"Oh, here it goes! Now it's my fault again if the high-flyer gets back down to earth!"

"Hey, it was your idea that I stand on you!"

"At least I did have an idea and I'm not just bellyaching about everything!"

Charlie didn't have the chance to shout back. A loud rumble made the two brothers wince.

"What was that?" Charlie asked alarmed.

"No idea."

For some seconds, they listened sharply into the darkness until Charlie interrupted the silence. "Do you know how silly we are?"

"Well, with you I know exactly."

"Oh yeah? Just because you –"

"Oh come on, please stop it," Don interrupted him placidly and went on, "I wasn't serious. I'm sorry. We shouldn't argue now."

Charlie nodded, a fact Don admittedly could only assume had happened in the wan moonlight. "So," Don advanced again, half-heartedly trying to recognize any activator for the noise in his dark surroundings, "Why is it that we're so silly?"

"Well, did we call for help even one single time?"

Don wouldn't have thought it was possible, but he had to agree with his little brother. They had indeed behaved as idiots. "Well," he hummed and hawed a bit, "I thought, after we'd shouted like this, that wouldn't be necessary anymore…"

"An argument is by no means a cry for help. Maybe in spite of everything someone becomes aware of what's going on. In any case that's better than breaking your neck or your backbone."

So they tried their luck. They called for help until they were hoarse, but nobody came to their rescue. "Maybe nobody can hear us," Don grumbled dismally. "Maybe this room is sound-proof and –"

"No, the room isn't sound-proof," Charlie intervened a bit petulantly and quite croakily. "Otherwise we wouldn't have heard the rumble back then. And do you hear this low rustling and hissing? There must be some trees near here."

"Okay. But a neighbour isn't likely to have caused the noise. Otherwise he'd have reacted by now, wouldn't he?"

"Right. So the noise was probably by our gentlemen kidnappers. That means they're probably gone. Because I gather they wouldn't like the noise we've been making here."

"How tremendously sharp-sighted. Though that doesn't help us either."

"It does," Charlie contradicted. "If we manage to open the skylight we at least won't have to deal with them."

"But we can forget it in the dark."

"It's not that big a difference."

"Oh no? That sounded quite different a minute ago. And honestly, I don't really feel like one of us breaking his neck in the next few hours. Besides, I need a break. As I said, you're no featherweight anymore."

Charlie wasn't sure if he should believe what he was hearing. A few minutes ago Don had been dying to try everything in their power! "That means you want to give up? You want them to leave us to rot down here?"

"Yep, that's what I want," Don answered shortly, stretching slightly and moaning on the straw. "At least until tomorrow morning."